There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL)

Inside a high-rise building in Luxier, the capital of the Western Republic, a man leaned back on his swivel chair, staring at the scenery behind the floor-to-ceiling glass wall.

He smiled in satisfaction while absorbing the view of the urban landscape. "What a good day," he sighed while sipping on his morning coffee, excellently brewed by a world-champion barista whose job now was solely to make his coffee.

A woman in a pantsuit standing beside his desk muttered in confusion. "It’s snowing, Sir."

"That’s why it’s good," he swiveled back and smiled cheerfully--which was a rare sight. It was rare that the smile contained real joy instead of mockery. "The colder it is the better."

Not many people might come due to the snow, but the media would definitely be there, waiting for any story. Whether he, Ramsay Hammer, proceded with the auction or not, it would still be worth to be turned into an article or two.

"Still upholding our schedule even in this bad weather," the man smirked, spreading his arms wide. "Wouldn’t I look gracious?"

Another man in a suit replied readily. "A lot of people had come from afar, so it would be a loss for them if the auction is canceled."

"Exactly!" he snapped his fingers, before glancing at the snow persistently falling since the morning. "Prepare my heat insulation coat."

"Yes, Sir."

When his assistants went to fetch the coat, Ramsay left his seat and stood in front of the glass wall, enjoying the winter scenery even more.

"You must be pissed, right? Radia Mallarc..." he smirked.