Before us stood a tall man with short silver hair, a slightly gaunt face, and a small tuft of silvery-white beard on his chin. His complexion had the characteristic pallor of the Dark God Race, and he wore a heavy formal outfit, black on the outside and red within. He looked about thirty by human standards, carrying himself like a grave and stern medieval nobleman—I knew this description looked familiar to you, because it had been lifted straight from earlier on—so there was probably no need to say who had arrived.
This tall member of the Dark God Race stood solemnly in my Living Room. His mere presence made the house as dim as seven or eight in the evening, despite the sun outside hanging at eleven or twelve noon. He stood ramrod straight, his hair combed so meticulously it was practically slick enough to use as a slide, and every fold in his formalwear seemed to have been adjusted countless times. Even Obama might not have been this serious when holding a press conference. The uncle greeted me with a stern expression. "Hello, we meet again. This time, Father God sent me to deliver a package..."
Viska had shed her usual domineering attitude from the moment before, hiding behind me with a thoroughly conflicted expression. Only now did she poke her head out and shout in exasperation, "Dad! Why are you here?!"
That was right. As many of you had either guessed already or learned by flipping back through earlier chapters, this middle-aged uncle, dressed as properly as an old English gentleman, was none other than Rogue's biological father: Uncle Kuwa Yin, who had warmly entertained our whole family in the God Realm.
I had been quite surprised when Uncle appeared, but I soon felt greatly relieved: Viska would