"Director Vilint's words are rather unpleasant."
The blonde young man gazed at the gray-haired man before him, his eyes narrowing slightly, carrying a deep expression that was both smirking and enigmatic.
"Well, that's how I am. I'm not very good at socializing,"
Vilint clapped his hands, placing one on his waist. "Most of the time, I speak to people like people, and to scoundrels like scoundrels. There are too many scoundrels in Ains, so I had no choice but to come to Dawn City."
"Ah, was it really necessary?"
The blonde young man shook his head. "You come from a founding family of the Federation. I originally had no intention of clashing with you—don't want those Ains bastards chasing after me and causing a mess. Wouldn't it be better to enjoy a good cup of coffee and have a peaceful sleep?"
"If all things could slide by with a blind eye,"