Sophie Wexler couldn't be bothered to wrangle with them any longer and cut straight to the chase. "Alright, enough. Stop pretending you have my best interests at heart. You know exactly what you're really up to."
"You'd better transfer the money you owe me within a week," Sophie Wexler said, watching them calmly. "Otherwise, I'll file a suit with The Healers' Association. This amount should be enough to open a formal case, don't you think?"
"You!" One of the men flew into a rage, slamming his hand on the table as he shot to his feet and pointed at Sophie Wexler.
Instantly, the atmosphere in the area shifted. Palpable fluctuations of spiritual power began to fill the air, and the people nearby keenly sensed the change. The situation was on a knife's edge.
"Sophie Wexler, don't push your luck!" he roared, his spiritual power on the verge of erupting.
But in that split second, the man next to him grabbed his arm, shaking his head. "Don't. She's a Healer-class."
