“I Choose Three.”

The next morning. Shin Seok-heon stood at the door and stretched lazily. It was another clear day, and the morning sun felt pleasantly warm on his body. But Shin Seok-heon was not in a relaxed mood. If not for Bai Xing's death notice, he could have made money through magic performances. He might even have been able to organize a touring show. But now, he had no time left.