A man over forty, well-maintained, handsome, tall, with an extraordinary aura, dressed impeccably, and wearing the right perfume—he could captivate any woman aged eight to eighty without uttering a word—was sitting at the table with tears on his face, shamelessly complaining about the injustices others had done to him, while constantly displaying his bloody nose from being hit.
This man could only be Haska.
Haska had been sitting in front of Ethan complaining for over ten minutes, constantly talking about how barbaric and rude the members of the Evans Clan were, and he exaggerated many insulting comments that they might not have said about Ethan.
Ethan just listened this whole time, until Haska showed signs of wanting to repeat himself, when he finally stood up and grabbed Haska's shoulders.
