A General inspection

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Chapter 20:


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{Meanwhile, in her majesty's (Technically Japan's) vessel of St. Gloriana}


Located in such a grand and grandiose office fit for a General, an average-built man with a short and straight spiky hair, a pencil moustache, a blue sweater, and navy-blue trousers stares awkwardly at her majesty hijacking his phone call.


He was calling his friend—who he dearly loves, but the golden haired woman with French braids, wearing the female version of his uniform, intervened.


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Darjeeling: "At first, it will start off professionally, but trust me when I say we'll grow on each other like weeds. Hopefully no gardener would come to pull it out. I admire your cautiousness and how calculated you are; characteristics of a great leader. I'm sorry if I started off strong earlier, but don't fret, Ray."

Ray: "Alright? I'm at Ooarai High Military Academy; ever heard of it?"

Darjeeling: "Ooarai...high?... I'll look into that. I hope we'll get to know each other better in later days, and it is a pleasure speaking with you. I'll gladly give you my phone number so we can chat the day away - Michael did say you're an astute student of philosophy...so am I, but unfortunately I can't. Because... Well, restrictions. I'll aid your school the best I can; for new friends and new beginnings."

Ray: "You sound like a nice person, ma'am, but I honestly have my reservations. We'll continue such a pleasant conversation in a calmer environment, okay? And maybe when I'm not stressed out from battle. Have a nice day."

*Darjeeling then hands the phone over to the spiky haired man, with a cheerful expression to that of his slightly annoyed countenance.*

Michael: "Sorry, mate. General inspection. I've got my own office here! Merely she's checking up on me, and it's a coincidence she caught me calling you. Anyways, as much as I hate to end this pleasant converse, I have to go. See ya, Ray. I love you... The bloody hell was that for?"

Darjeeling: "Shouldn't you be thanking me? We're making amends with the school of your acquaintance."

Michael: "Well, yeah, I should be thankful, but...you just hijacked my call; that's uncool."

*Darjeeling shamefully looks down on the floor, blushing slightly.*

Darjeeling: "Of course, how...rude of me. Now then, his school is... Ooarai High Military Academy... That's weird."

Michael: "What's weird?"

Darjeeling: "A town oriented carrier? I half-expected him to be in some place more...eloquent, and all, but to each their own. I shall call Benjimin, and tell him to look into 'Ooarai High'."

Michael: "Actually; it's best if I call him myself. You know how much my folks hate you?"

Darjeeling: "As much as I...strongly dislike to admit it, yes..."

*Michael dons on his coat, and he was about to walk out the wooden door to get to Benji.*

Michael: "We'll warm up to you someday, Queen Darjeeling. We don't hate you entirely—we just didn't like the way you presented yourself."

Darjeeling: "I should be careful with my words next time then. I can't stop remembering what happened to Chai."

*Michael shivers and winces in disgust and sympathy.*

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