Chapter 2: Mana Injection
"Huh?! Didn’t you hear me? I’ll die if you don’t take me to the hospital or at least get me a healer! I’ll die!"
Sigh This man is so hard to deal with. His voice was low; he could barely talk.
"If you don’t sign the paper for me to get an awakening, I’ll be forced to repeat the entire school year."
"What part of ’my wound is infected’ don’t you understand? If I don’t get this stab wound healed, I’ll die."
That’s it; there’s no reasoning with him.
"I’ve sutured it to stop the bleeding. You should be fine."
"Motherfucker, you sutured it with a clothes iron! How do you expect it to heal? I’m your father, for God’s sake—have some compassion!"
He’s the last person who should be talking about compassion. Night after night, day after day, I suffered through his punches and kicks. He didn’t utter a word about compassion then—not until I picked up the knife.
I finally had enough when he threw me off the stairs and broke my arm. It was like my instincts kicked in; it was either him or me. The only reason I haven’t finished him off is that having a dead father in the house would spell trouble for me. And if I somehow found a way to heal him, things would just get worse than before. I have no interest in being anyone’s punching bag.
"If you sign this permission slip, I’ll let you go."
His eyes sharpened. His green eyes stared at me intensely, as if he were trying to read my facial expression to see if I was lying.