President Daimon was annoyed as soon as he heard that. He waved a hand at his daughter-in-law and brushed her off. "We're eating. We'll talk after dinner."
Having said that, he ignored the eldest son and his wife, then turned to his quietly seated youngest son. "Yoshirō, what about you? What have you been doing lately?"
Daimon Yoshirō said, "I've been singing at a restaurant."
"..."
President Daimon endured it and endured it, but ultimately could not hold back. "Why are you doing this embarrassing kind of work every day?! After all these years, you should have had enough fun—quit that crappy restaurant and come help at my company!"
Daimon Yoshirō was concise. "No."
President Daimon: "..."
He abruptly raised his hand, looking as though he very much wanted to slap his son into a spinning top. But remembering the many guests present, the image-conscious president could only snort coldly, leave behind the words, "I'll settle things with you later," and storm off.
The Daimon Family's eldest son watched his retreating back. Remembering his father's suggestion that his younger brother come work at the company, he grew restless. After hesitating for a moment, he stood and hurried after him, wanting to ask what exactly his father meant.
Once he left, his wife followed as well. Several seats around the table were suddenly empty, and the mood at dinner was beyond saving after all.
But Mouri Ran still wanted to try. Under Vermouth's gentle gaze, she turned to Daimon Yoshirō. "Mr. Yoshirō, so you're a singer?"
"Haha, I wouldn't call myself a singer." Sure enough, that title brightened Daimon Yoshirō's mood again. The hospitable youngest son raised a hand and mimed strumming a guitar. "I just like guitars. Recently, I've been studying Spanish songs. Unfortunately, I didn't dare bring my guitar