"You're just like your father," he said. "Carefree. Saying whatever you want."
His tone carried clear displeasure.
"Don't do that here, Rowan."
Rowan's eyes narrowed slightly.
Now I see…
My dad told me about him.
A powerful Sword God.
But this…
Rowan leaned back slightly in his chair.
For some reason…
It feels like he has a grudge against my father.
"Hey, can't you see I'm talking to you?" Michael snapped.
"Well, tell me—are you done?" Rowan replied calmly.
Michael's face froze. His arm was still wrapped in bandages from the last fight, yet he slowly looked at Rowan and said, "Hey, mind the way you speak to me. You know who I am. Mind your manners."
"I don't care who you are, or who your family is," Rowan said evenly.
Michael's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, really? You almost died yesterday, and you're trying to lecture me? You lost to a demon! Shouldn't you be ashamed?"
Rowan's voice sharpened. "You lost. You almost died. And yet you dare speak like that?"
