While Mr. Gyeon, a former dictator who’d just been properly forced to put himself in others’ shoes, pointlessly dreamed of revolution, things kept getting worse.
“Urgh!”
At some point the workshop chief’s hand had shot out and grabbed the elder by the collar.
Timothy separated them before it was too late. His face was the picture of patience.
“Oh?”
“Let’s stop there. We clearly said if you give us a repair estimate, we’ll prepare to match it. And if this side is at f—”
“Outsider, stay out of it.”
“…What?”
“I can see right through you punks. How many days left on your visas? A week at best? Who’s going to squeeze outsiders who’ll only last a week here—what good does that do us? You’ll bolt and that’s that.”
“Make a mess and then say you’ll pay later, ‘wait for it,’ and run. You think I haven’t seen your kind before?…