After a long day of work, the tall blonde man in the suit opened the door of the house, a nice house in the suburbs.

Hannibal looked towards the coat rack, where he left his briefcase while he took off his shoes, his face serious and firm, with small wrinkles in his eyes.

Likewise, he looked just as handsome as he did when he was 20. He ages like wine.

"Am at home." He spoke out loud so that his spouse would realize that he had arrived.