A man in a dark red coat sat on a luxurious red leather chair. He crossed his legs, propped his cheek with his left hand, wore a face mask, and his unkempt bangs fell carelessly as he gazed out the window at the underground city, his eyes squinting slightly as if smiling.
Hanna's brush moved briskly, and before long, the painting had begun to take shape, but she slightly furrowed her brows, "Don't move."
"I can't hold the same pose for too long," Ash complained. "I've never worked as a model before."
"But I can't paint if you keep moving," Hanna said. "I have a good idea—Ash, don't move!"
Ash's body stiffened instantly, and Hanna, satisfied, continued painting with a smile, "It's a pity the outside isn't a burning world; otherwise, it would be just like the future number one on the 'Art List'."
"You're not as mature as the 'you' in the 'Art List' though," Ash said. "But no matter which list, I look more or less the same."
