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Two days later.
Count Bathist's Mansion.
In Floral City Pariel, the midday sun of August caused the air above the stone-slab-paved streets to slightly warp, a vehicle slowly coming to a stop in front of this mansion situated in a bustling area.
It was the hereditary mansion of the Bathist Family, whose morning glory iron gate had been coated with a faint layer of rust by the passage of time, with tall poplar trees on either side of the entrance standing guard-like, preserving the dignity and tranquility of this garden.
A blonde girl got out of the car.
She was wearing a thin summer dress without sleeves, which formed a perfect line from her shoulder down to her neatly manicured nails.
The loose design seemed very airy and lightweight.
Presumably, thanks to her regular exercise, the figure slightly revealed was very ideal.
She hadn't returned home for a month.