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Hairdressing scissors snipped in the air.
“Are you sure about leaving this to me?” the orphanage director asked.
“Yes,” I replied, nodding as I glanced at my reflection in the large glass window. From over my shoulder, the orphanage director glanced down at me, looking somewhat displeased. “I really want you to cut my hair for me.”
“It’s always strange to hear someone express their wishes with such fervor. It sounds like if the wish isn’t strong enough, it won’t come true. Interestingly, a white cloth is wrapped around your neck, and I’m holding a pair of pretty sharp scissors.”
“Oh, it gets more interesting when you think that I’m a Class A Hunter and your Class is F.”
The director sighed, snipping the air with the scissors for no reason. “It’s not too late to change your mind. Miss Black Dragon Master has called over a professional hairdresser, so it would be rude to keep him waiting. You’re going to a press conference. Trusting an amateur like me is unwise.”
“Director, think about it.”
“Ah, here we go again...”
“If I let you cut my hair, it will make the hairdresser happy. He gets paid without having to work since he’s already waiting outside the door. You say I’m being rude to the Black Dragon Master, but the truth is that I’m besties with her. It’s okay if I’m only slightly rude to her. Besides—”
“Okay, okay. Zip it,” the director cut me off, frustrated. “I really shouldn’t have added a debate class in your curriculum when I was teaching you guys. You’re all fools, but you’re Olympic medalists at mental gymnastics.”
The Guardian seemed to have finally solved a ten-year-long mystery.
—I see. You’re...
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