It was drizzling in the Imperial Capital in the morning.
The Godfrey Penthouse.
A young man, holding a dark blue umbrella, walked into the grand corridor of the loft.
Standing in front of the triple gate, he waited for it to open.
Those inside sensed his presence; if they chose to acknowledge him, they would open the door. If not, no one could enter through it.
The triple gate opened.
Austin Godfrey, with his long legs, stepped over the threshold.
Sitting in the magnificent loft, right at the front, was an attractive old man with white hair.
It seemed that every time he came in.
This man was always there.
Allen Godfrey lifted his deep, ocean-like black pupils.
His faintly turquoise eyes shone; every time they met, it felt as though he had been attacked by magic.
Unable to divert his gaze for even a moment.
"Great Grandfather."
This godlike handsome man looked over.
