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.

said to be very powerful; after retiring from the army, he became a businessman and

a very

Quinton assumed Timothy would be arrogant and

man was a nice

was better than his

for

I have a sprightly

temper in the past, but now I don't find it necessary

Of course...

even if

a big problem." Timothy waved,

whispered, "Grandpa, don't

was worried about your

peace and be a kind and

the condition was he didn't want to see

respect you since you're

his best to suppress his

do that as long

in each other

her, I don't care if you're my grandpa's

to stop that

I'll shoot him

wait for you."

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