Mr. Han soon arrived home with his son, Han Sunmin. Han Sunmin could walk, but still moved with a walking support stick. As soon as he stepped into their mansion's sitting room, his father turned in his direction.
He already saw it coming.
"When are you going to stop messing up, huh?" he questioned as he stared at Sunmin's foot and then at his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Sunmin said nothing.
"What do you want to prove? Huh? What's the point of overexerting yourself when you already know that at the end of the day you're still not going to prove anything? Shouldn't you at least make sure to keep your body in one piece for more important jobs in the future?"
He stared at his father quietly. It wasn't the first time they'd had such conversations, so he didn't seem shocked at all. He casually said, "It's my business, so I'll handle it. You don't have to worry."
