"Father…"
The single word left Evie's lips quietly, but to Ren, it felt louder than the crash that had shattered the glass table moments ago.
Ren stared at her.
Then at the old man standing beside Ragnar.
Then back at Evie again.
His thoughts struggled to catch up.
Father?
The dignified old man stood tall despite his age. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and his sharp silver eyes carried the kind of pressure that only powerful people possessed. Even without speaking, he dominated the entire room simply by standing there.
The armed men around them immediately lowered their heads slightly in respect toward him.
That alone already said enough.
Meanwhile, Ragnar stepped forward and spoke in a calm but formal tone.
"Mr. Frizkiel. I have honored the laws and rules of this country. It is time you honor yours."
Frizkiel.
The name echoed inside Ren's head.
It sounded familiar.
Very familiar.
His brows furrowed as he searched through his memory. Then suddenly—
