“Goddamn—!”
Bang—! Crash—!
An object flew across the stark white room.
The porcelain that struck the wall gave a sharp ting and shattered to pieces.
Fragments bounced and fell to the floor. A shard that ricocheted struck a woman’s cheek, and blood trickled down.
“Kyah…!”
As the woman screamed in fright, the young man who’d thrown the object—Cheongseon—scrunched up his face.
“Can’t you be quiet?”
“I-I’m sorry….”
Even with blood running down, the woman went rigid with tension.
That was how intense Cheongseon’s aura was.
“Y-Young Master…! Please, calm yourself…. You’ll reopen your wound!”
A man hurried to restrain him, but Cheongseon didn’t listen.
He just kept snatching up anything his hand found and hurling it.
Bang—! Clang!
Anything that could be thrown, broke.
“Damn it!”
Even after a good long bout of throwing things, his anger wouldn’t cool; Cheongseon was left huffing and venting heat.
A bandage was wrapped around his head—the wound from the earlier blow.
“Kh!”
Moving too violently, he finally staggered.
His head swam.
At the nasty throbbing pain he knit his brows tighter and spoke.
“…What are those…