Even though each one was a draft, Harvey’s sketches were as refined as finished works from some comic studios. The style of these drawings was exquisite and captivating, even without colors.

Relying on the market sense he had honed over the years, Toph was convinced that this work was bound to be a hit.

“Is this your comic?” he couldn’t help but ask. “It’s really good! Not only are the visuals beautiful, but the storyline is also great!

“Harvey, why did you never mention that you create comics yourself?”

“You…” Harvey turned his head slightly, his expression complex. “Why are you looking at this?”

“I stumbled upon it, just under this easel… Why? Is it not meant to be seen?”

Harvey waved his hand dismissively and turned his face away. After a while, he muttered, “You… You like it?”

“It’s great! If this sells, it’ll surely be a hit!”

“But the main characters are two guys…” Harvey’s voice trailed off. “People might dislike that, right?”

shoulder. “Bro, who says

surprised, staring blankly at

as one faces it,

“You…”

lowered his

“What about him?”

with King Alexander. After all, it was his father’s private matter, and flaunting

scratched his head. “Anyway, I don’t think it’s wrong! The world should embrace differences. You can disagree but should

a long time, the icy touch in his eyes seemingly melting quietly. He smiled and walked to the window. The sunlight felt warm on his face, and it felt nice to be treated so

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“What?”

Harvey didn’t repeat it.

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