He glanced a few times, took out a wide-brimmed coffee-colored pair of glasses from his pocket, and after putting them on, he appeared even more refined and gentle.
His gaze lingered on each girl's face, body for a moment, then he coldly looked at the next page.
There was nothing in the first album that moved him, so he picked up the second page of the album, "Your quality is getting worse."
The manager could only accompany with a smile, "I will reprimand them."
Actually, it's not that their quality is getting worse, it's that Baown's taste is becoming more selective.
Previously, any girl who was passable would do, later he started demanding this and that, becoming more and more strict.
He even demanded various proportions, sizes, and specified approximations.
But later, his needs in this aspect relaxed; he started pursuing a certain aura, something not direct but truly existing.
When his brows furrowed tighter and tighter, the manager was already sweating a bit.
