At his age, Timothy was a man held in high esteem.

No one had ever been that rude toward him.

If it were someone else, Timothy would have long gotten angry.

Knowing that Quinton was the grandson of his old comrade, however, he grew to like Quinton.

He couldn't be angry at Quinton at all.

On the contrary, he tried to reflect on himself humbly.

"Yes, it was our fault," he admitted.

"I'm already very guilty.

I don't care what their surname is, but half of their bloodline belongs to the Hunt family.

You can't say they're not related to us.

Of course, I know that the relation isn't much." "Well, aren't you rather friendly?" Quinton said.

He now had a different impression of Timothy.

In the past, he had heard of Timothy's character.

from the army, he became a businessman and established the

was a

assumed Timothy would be arrogant

seemed the man was a nice

was better

for your

old, I have a sprightly

in the past, but now I don't

Of course...

on even

big problem." Timothy

whispered, "Grandpa, don't push

up angrily to hit Stefan? I was worried about your heart condition." "Ahem! That was

his peace and be a kind and

condition was he didn't want to see

you're my grandpa's old friend," Quinton

tried his

as long as your grandson

in

her, I don't care

and shoot." "I promise to stop that bastard from harming

I'll shoot him

wait for you." Timothy said

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