I’m Someone Else

It pained Quentin to see the agony written all over Harley’s face. In an effort to comfort his son, he had no choice but to say, “Just hang on a bit longer, okay? The doctor said you’ll be fine after some time.” In reality, only he understood what the renowned doctor had actually said. It was true that Harley’s broken backbone had been repaired, but whether or not he could stand up again depended entirely on his luck.

If there’s someone else in Irieson who could heal Harley, it’d be none other than Quincy. His reputation as a preeminent figure in the field of medicine is no exaggeration. That being said, I can’t beg him for help. After all, Harley has gone after his friend. If I beg him to save my son right now, he surely won’t do anything. But what else can I do if I don’t beg him for help? Can I just sit by and watch my son spend the rest of his life confined to a wheelchair?

Harley started to cry. “Dad, don’t lie to me anymore. I know what’s going on with my own body. Even if I’m healed, I may not be able to fully recover. Most probably, I’ll end up a cripple.” If my bodily suffering can be overcome by gritting my teeth, what about my mental suffering? I’m still young, only in my forties, with dozens of years to fritter away. There’s no way I can resign myself to living the rest of my life either in bed or in a wheelchair like a cripple!

“Look at you! You look like a good-for-nothing! What are you crying for? All men in our family sweat and bleed, but we never weep!” Quentin scolded his son, his eyes bulging with anger despite his heartache. “Hold back your tears!”

Harley hurriedly wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, not daring to cry anymore.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to help you. All you have to do now is recuperate. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” said Quentin before leaving Harley’s bedroom. Then, he strode into his grandson Leslie’s room. “Come over here, you brat!” He raised his foot and kicked Leslie out of bed right away.

at his grandfather pitifully. “What are you doing, Grandpa?” How can you kick me like this

thing, but my son went seeking revenge for this, only to get beaten into a cripple instead! I’ve been busy getting Harley’s injuries treated these days. Today, I must get the answers. “Spill it now, and don’t you ever try to bluff your way out of

are you talking

playing dumb with me! Why did that Thomas guy beat you up?” Quentin knew this grandson of his better than anyone else. If nothing else, Leslie was an expert at troublemaking. He didn’t believe Thomas had beaten Leslie up out of sheer displeasure. This good-for-nothing grandson of mine has likely

wouldn’t have been afraid in the slightest. All he had to do was act spoiled and play the victim, and he would get

way! If I do that, I’ll get smacked even more severely. What should I do, then? I’ll get smacked no matter if I tell the truth or not. Why do you have to ask me about this, Grandpa? You don’t have to

you want me to use some special techniques on you to get you to speak?” He didn’t even need Leslie to fess up. Seeing the look on his grandson’s face, he knew he had guessed it right—it had to be

of fear through Leslie. At first, he had made up a story in his mind, but now, he

You’re nothing but a

Slap!

while trembling all over with rage. All they did was block your way! Did you have to go so far as to kick them? What the hell is wrong with you? You think you’re special because you have legs? What’s more, the person you kicked was a lady! Are you even a man? What did the Yam Family do wrong to end up having a scum like you! If possible, I