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.

retiring from the army, he became

was a very

Quinton assumed Timothy

seemed the man was

was better than his

for

I'm old, I have a

bad temper in the past, but now I don't find it necessary to get angry unless it's something

Of course...

on even if something serious

big problem."

"Grandpa, don't

Stefan? I was worried

to maintain his peace and

condition was he didn't want to

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

tensed up and tried his best to

added calmly, "I can do that as long as your grandson stops

won't interfere in

affects her, I don't care if you're my

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

does, I'll shoot him

for you." Timothy

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