Noah York was wearing a windbreaker, showing off his aura of an upperclassman.

The palm print on his face was already adequately handled by a doctor. The mark was almost untraceable at this point.

But when Harvey York glanced over, he could still see a faint palm print.

Marcel York looked over curiously, interested in how Noah would play out this big show.

“Is that you, Lord York?”

“Ah! Sir York! You’re here too?”

Noah came uninvited before jogging to Harvey’s cruise. When he reached the roof, he acted like he was close to Harvey.

It was hard to imagine that he was planning to force his hand against Harvey and was slapped in the face just before this.

Harvey squinted slightly. He had to acknowledge just how resourceful these sly old foxes were.

Harvey could still vividly remember the slap across Noah’s face, but he looked as if he had already forgotten about it.

Impressive…

Harvey had no intention of letting Noah off the hook, though.

“What a small world, Third Lord York!