"It was just overnight, but since when did he become more like his father?" a youthful man, around his early twenties, opened the pot that was being simmered. "I wonder what went in his head this time, running and yelling like a maniac, about to go off on a killing spree?"
The youthful man with a darker shade of ash hair sniffed the aroma of the stew. His plump lips curled up, appearing like a crafty fox.
"Amazing," said the young man, reaching for the ladle to scoop into the pot and taste the soup. Delight immediately washed over his charming face and the twinkle in his deep crimson eyes gleamed in satisfaction. "I can't believe this food is being simmered for two years."
"The person who preserved this place is amazing." A deep voice came from behind him, making the young man turn around. All the latter saw was a towering figure folding his brawny arms under his buffed chest, leaning his side against the jamb of the entrance of the kitchen.
