Chapter 1612: an omen with legs, hands, and a mouth to run.

Butler Jen and William stared at each other with mild curiosity—though their reasons varied. Butler Jen was a little surprised by the big guy. Charles and Haines were considerably tall, but they both maintained a more proportionate physique. Charles might’ve gained a bit of weight, but he still wasn’t as broad as this man.

William wasn’t fat, but he was definitely a large man.

As for William, he gazed at Butler Jen because the man looked too thin—perhaps a little too small for his liking.

"I’ve never seen you here before," William frowned. "And why are you still in costume?"

Butler Jen smiled politely. "I came here in a hurry. I didn’t think changing was necessary. If so, my apologies."

Normally, William Pierson would’ve immediately found something to nitpick. But Butler Jen’s humble response left him momentarily speechless.

"Ahem!" William cleared his throat. "There’s nothing to apologize for."

Butler Jen maintained his kind smile and stayed quiet as they waited for the lift.

DING!

As soon as the elevator arrived, Butler Jen stepped aside and lowered his head slightly. William, meanwhile, walked in without a care for the butler. But when Butler Jen stepped in and joined him, William raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize this lift isn’t for general use?" he asked, clearly ready to scold the old butler now.

"The receptionist told me to use this one instead," Butler Jen replied, his tone still gentle and respectful. "But if it’s not allowed, I’ll step out and wait for the next one."

True to his word, Butler Jen made a move to leave. William frowned. The butler was stealing his thunder—and doing it kindly, too.

"Ahem! That’s not what I meant," William said, clearing his throat again—this time unsure why.

Butler Jen paused and looked back. "Are you sure, sir?"

"Do you think I’m shallow? This lift isn’t for everyone, but since you’re already here, no need to make me look bad," William grumbled as he hit the ’close door’ button.

Hearing this, Butler Jen smiled in satisfaction and stepped back inside.

"Kind sir, if you please, may I ask you to press this floor?" Butler Jen said politely. "I’d have to squeeze past you otherwise, and I wouldn’t want to be impolite."

Normally, that kind of request would’ve earned a sharp rebuke.

How dare he ask William to press the floor number for him?

William usually had his lackeys do such things. It wasn’t a big task, but it symbolized the power dynamic. Yet here was this old butler, asking him to do it.

William wasn’t pleased, and his face showed it. But Butler Jen simply waited, still smiling with quiet expectation.

And surprisingly, William did it without a word.

"Thank you, kind sir," Butler Jen said, stepping to the other side of the elevator.

Surely, everyone here was a good person. Even this intimidating man was kind in his own way.

If only Butler Jen knew just how large William’s Hate Club was—and who its members were—he might’ve thought differently. But for now, considering how often William picked on others just to feel superior, it was surprising that he hadn’t done the same to Butler Jen.

As silence settled between them, William arched a brow at the floor number Butler Jen had requested.

Isn’t that Atlas’s department?

He glanced discreetly at Butler Jen, then cleared his throat, drawing the older man’s attention.

"You don’t seem like an employee here," William said. "Are you visiting your child?"

"Not my own, per se, but you could say that."

"Heh." William scoffed. "He must be very proud to be in that department."

Not proud, per se...

Butler Jen smiled and nodded. "He just got the job, but I think he likes it."

"I say this as one father to another—visits aren’t prohibited, but they can be considered unethical," William said, straightening his back and lifting his chin. "That department isn’t the best, but it’s a very challenging place."

"One visit won’t cause harm, but it could irritate someone," he added, thinking he was doing the old man a favor. "Frankly, the work environment there isn’t great."

"Thank you for the advice." Butler Jen bowed his head sincerely. "I’ll keep that in mind. I know he’s under a lot of pressure and struggles to get along with others, but I’m sure he’s doing his best."

William snorted. "Best in that department is never good enough," he grumbled, bitter at the thought of Atlas and the constant interference in his projects.

Oh, how he loathed the guy.

Still, William knew most of the staff there had been thoroughly screened by Allen himself. That meant this man’s ’child’ was probably capable, too. And maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t hurt to win someone from Atlas’s side.

"It’s not much, but I understand," William said. "If your son’s having trouble with his boss or coworkers, tell him he can always come to me."

Surprised, Butler Jen raised his brows, then smiled warmly. "That’s very kind of you, sir."

"It’s nothing." William waved dismissively. "I’m just better, and after decades here, I know more."

DING!

The elevator chimed again, and William stepped forward. But before walking out, he turned to Butler Jen.

"That’s just an option," he said, pointing at the floor display above the door. "Tell your son this floor number—and make sure he mentions you. I’ll take care of him."

"I’ll keep that in mind." Butler Jen lowered his head. "Thank you."

He remained bowed until William left, and the doors closed.

Then, slowly, Butler Jen straightened and chuckled to himself.

"Surely, the First Young Master and Sir Zoren just wanted an excuse to take extra leave," he said with a laugh. "Even that man is very kind and considerate. I wonder if the kind gentleman and the Young Master get along? He seemed to be of an important role here."

If only Butler Jen knew...

Or rather, if only William knew who this ’son’ really was, he wouldn’t have dared give such an invitation. Atlas, for him, was an omen with legs, hands, and a mouth to run.

Well, they didn’t know it yet, but this might just be the beginning of a strange relationship between Butler Jen and the most-hated man in the building—William Pierson.