The man in the brown apron stood by the door, and he glanced at his watch to ascertain how long his body had been there. At the same time, his eyeballs were still busy watching a human of the same type–sitting facing the screen of a laptop and printer for more than half an hour, his hands busy hovering in various directions without being certain–about what he wanted from the computer, seemingly daydreaming until Jose finally chuckled.

"What's bothering you? What are you doing there?" Jose's question got no response; he thought his voice was loud enough, but Denis didn't even turn his head. The man's body was still in...