In the café, two men who looked almost identical sat across from each other. If they weren't so far apart in age, people would surely mistake them for brothers.
Joseph Lancaster held his coffee cup at his lips, looking at the expressionless man across from him, smirking through gritted teeth, "You brat! You've got quite a punch, didn't hold back at all."
Though the bandage on his cheekbone had been removed, the bruise was still faintly visible.
Evander Lancaster lowered his eyes, stirring his coffee slowly, "Weren't you the same?"
The inside of his cheek, next to his left teeth, wasn't fully healed yet, thanks to the punch from the old man's fist across from him.
"Hmph! A father hitting his son is perfectly justified! A son hitting his father, now that's rebellion!"
Joseph Lancaster shouted sternly, and the amusement in his phoenix eyes subsided. Even though it was a reprimand from a father to a son, his tone carried a hint of reluctance.
