Dragon Ball Roshi-Chapter 172 - : Tam Over the Years

An old servant quietly approached a door, knocked twice, and called out, "Sir, are you there?"

"Come in," replied Hathaway's father, his aged voice emanating from inside.

The servant turned the doorknob and entered, finding the white-haired old man seated before a large computer. As she hurried closer, Hathaway's father massaged his temples, adjusted his glasses, and asked curiously, "What is it? Has Hannah returned?"

"Yes, sir. Madam has returned," the servant replied, her voice tinged with excitement after decades of service to the family. "And she's brought Mr. Taro and Miss Hathaway with her!"

Hathaway's father froze for a moment before his face lit up with emotion. He instinctively began to rise from his leather chair, but then seemed to remember something, snorted, and forced himself to maintain a stern demeanor. "So, they remember to come back? After abandoning their child here and vanishing for twenty years without a word, they dare to show up now? They dare to show up?"

He repeated the phrase "they dare to show up" three times, each louder than the last.

Finally, the old man shifted in his chair, angrily waved his hand, and barked, "I don't want to see them. Tell those two to leave immediately! They're not welcome here!"

Today, his grandson Tam was supposed to bring his great-granddaughter Ninn to visit. He needed time to prepare Tam for this unexpected reunion. Given Tam's temper, running into his irresponsible parents unannounced would surely result in chaos.

The old man was deeply worried.

The servant smiled faintly and spoke softly, "Madam said if you intend to drive them out, you'll have to do it yourself..."

Hathaway's father clenched his teeth, muttering under his breath, "That cunning woman," before adjusting his glasses again. Ultimately, his longing to see his daughter won out. He rose from his chair, allowed the servant to steady him, and said, "I'm not so old I can't walk on my own." With that, he headed toward the study door.

Descending the stairs, he began to hear voices from the living room.

Hannah's gentle, aged tone mixed with another voice—his daughter Hathaway's voice, the one he had yearned to hear for twenty years. His steps trembled as he descended, and the servant moved to support him. This time, he didn't refuse.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he saw the three people seated on the living room sofa.

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Three backs of heads.

The snowy white updo belonged to his wife, Hannah. The long purple hair streaked with silver—was that his daughter Hathaway? Was it really her? His heart surged, nearly robbing him of breath. The servant quietly murmured, "Sir."

Hearing the voice from behind, the three on the sofa turned to look. (Taro, of course, had sensed someone approaching long ago.)

Hannah's eyes were already red and swollen, evidence of tears shed upon reuniting with her daughter after two decades. Hathaway's eyes, too, were misty. Seeing her father standing behind her, his lips trembling and eyes brimming with tears, she felt a lump in her throat.

Taro, however, remained calm. He had no reason to feign intense emotion. For him, Hathaway was the one he loved. Her parents, on the other hand, were merely acquaintances. If they encountered trouble, he would help out of moral obligation. But emotionally, he regarded them no differently than the billions of others on Earth.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Hathaway's father reassured the servant, motioning for her to leave. He subtly wiped his nose, tightened his quivering lips, and adopted a deliberately cold expression. He snorted, looking at his visibly aged daughter and son-in-law. "Why are you here? You're not welcome! Leave at once!"

"Dad!" Hathaway called out, her voice thick with emotion, her eyes reddening further.

Taro sighed softly.

Hathaway's father furrowed his brow deeply, his lips pursed. Forcing his brows into an angry downward slope, he said coldly, "Leave! I don't want to see the two of you! You..." He raised his hand, trembling as he pointed at the pair on the sofa.

"Enough! You old fool! Stop pretending! Who was it that talked about them the most?" Hannah wiped her tears and snapped irritably.

By this time, Hathaway had already left the sofa and stood before her father. Her reddened eyes filled with tears as she called out, "Dad!" before spreading her arms and embracing him.

The old man's eyes instantly reddened, and two streams of hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He patted his daughter's back, his voice hoarse as he murmured, "It's good to have you back. It's good to have you back..."

The four of them finally sat together. Naturally, the two elders asked about their whereabouts over the years. Hathaway, knowing her husband didn't want to involve them in extraordinary matters, explained that Taro had accompanied her to a quiet place to conduct research (referring to artificial intelligence). Taro understood her intent and didn't elaborate, feeling no need to explain the details to her parents. He merely felt guilty toward Hathaway for making her wait so long. But that would change. He held her hand and silently promised, "From now on, I'll always be by your side."

Hannah sighed. "It's been hard on Tam."

Hathaway fell silent, guilt welling up within her. She had chosen to leave instead of staying to raise her child. Though she felt remorseful, she didn't regret her decision. She could still recall the anxiety and fear that Taro might never return. If given the choice again, she suspected her decision would remain unchanged.

Hathaway's father sighed heavily as well, recalling Tam's experiences growing up.

When he was younger, Tam frequently asked where his parents had gone. As time passed, he stopped asking and often stared out the window, lost in thought. His mother's laptop, left behind for him, remained untouched between the ages of fourteen and twenty.

During his most rebellious years, Tam indulged in complete self-destruction. He stayed out all night, immersing himself in nightlife, drinking excessively, and getting into fights. Although he hadn't trained in martial arts, his inherited physique from Taro made him an unbeaten brawler. He experimented with drugs, engaged in reckless behavior, and pursued every imaginable form of debauchery.

The two elders often tried to counsel him, but seeing the anger in his eyes, like a wounded and solitary lion, they found themselves unable to scold him harshly.

At the age of twenty, however, something changed. Whether due to a specific event or introspection, Tam turned his life around. He abandoned his chaotic lifestyle and returned home with a calm demeanor. He dusted off the laptop his mother had left him and started studying its contents. Soon, he became busy, using the notes to start his own company, forge partnerships, and navigate the world of high-powered business and government negotiations.

Two years ago, a woman arrived with a four-year-old girl, claiming she was Tam's daughter and asking for a large sum of money. After a paternity test confirmed her story, Tam kept the child and gave the woman the money. Satisfied with the transaction, the woman left.

These memories remained vivid in the old man's mind. Tam had endured so much over the years, but he persevered. He matured, and now he was a self-made success. The company he founded, StarTech, had become one of the top businesses in the five major cities. Its computers, smartphones, software, and the global internet infrastructure he built were integral to modern urban life.

But such maturity came at a cost. His unresolved resentment toward his parents loomed like an unhealed scar.

"And little Ninn," Hannah sighed again. "She often says she wants to meet her grandparents."

Hathaway was about to ask who "Ninn" was when the servant entered. She approached Hannah and whispered, "Mr. Tam has arrived." Then, glancing at Taro and Hathaway, she added, "And he's brought the young miss with him."