"Casio, I suspect your decision to take in Simonyi as your underling is more than just admiration... Even though the lad possesses the potential to become a fighter, your attitude seems a bit excessive. Do you have some scheme regarding him?" Amos pondered for a moment, his glasses flashing slightly as he tested the waters.
"Do you see me as that kind of person? Can't it just be a benevolent act of extending a hand to a genius with a tragic past?" Casio retorted, appearing somewhat injured.
"Stop pretending, you can't fool my eyes. We've only met a few times but there's this inexplicable familiarity I have with you. You rarely exhibit any kind of benevolence—it's more like you're inherently cold-blooded. Not to say that you're completely out of sync with the whole world, but there is a certain barrier there. I suppose you hardly have anyone you consider confiding in..."
Amos suddenly shifted the topic towards Casio. Fifty years had passed, refining his keen and experienced eyes.
