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.

the army, he became

a

assumed Timothy would be

seemed the man was a nice

the very least, he was better than his despicable

you for your

I

I don't find it

Of course...

even if

isn't a big problem." Timothy

"Grandpa, don't

the one who got up angrily to hit Stefan? I was worried about your heart condition." "Ahem! That was different,"

wanted to maintain his peace and be a kind and

didn't

you're my grandpa's old friend,"

tensed up and tried his best to suppress his

that as long as

in each other

pesters her and affects her, I don't care if you're

trigger and shoot." "I promise to stop that

does, I'll shoot him

for you." Timothy said

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