"Where did these ores come from?!" A few seconds later, Annie turned to look at the white-haired old man, speaking quickly, "How much is there? What's the price? I'll take them all!"
"Oh, is that so." The white-haired old man listened to Annie's words but didn't show any excitement, as if he wouldn't earn any commission from consignment. Like before, he looked at Annie nonchalantly and said slowly, "I really have to think about it, getting old makes the memory poor, I think it was—"
Halfway through speaking, the white-haired old man's tone stretched on, then... just ended...
Annie waited for a full half-minute, noticing there was no continuation, feeling a slowly rising anger from her abdomen. She lifted a hand, ready to drag the white-haired old man out from behind the counter for a violent interrogation.
At this moment, she noticed the white-haired old man suddenly looking toward the door.
Hmm? What?
