Looking at Gulliver Alastor, Rowan sneered. His mood wasn't good. Because until now, black doors always promised rewards, and he'd received them. Something like this time shouldn't have happened.
Because the implicit rule between the black dream and Rowan had collapsed.
"Should I do the family's revenge? Find descendants and ask me to look after them or something?"
Gulliver shook his head. He made a displeased expression.
"I'm not that kind of idiot. The family's fate is for future generations to decide. And why should I take care of my descendants' meals?"
He had snap thinking. Rowan found that unexpected.
"Usually if it's a family that collapsed because of yourself, wouldn't you feel more responsibility?"
"If a dead person appeared saying they came to help, it'd greatly wound their confidence. It means I didn't believe in them."
