Was this what it meant to get beaten senseless with words?
The blows were so vicious that his mind was practically reeling.
His skull, which had actually been struck as well, throbbed and swayed. Since the day he was born, this was the first time he had ever been treated so harshly.
Looking ready to cry, the boy fluttered the hem of his Hawaiian shirt as though he thought this was unfair too.
“Ugh! I said she’s not my mom!”
“You ungrateful little shit, want another beating? Does somebody have to carry you in her belly and give birth to you before she counts as real family? If she brought you into this world, then she’s your mother! Some people don’t even have a mom!”
“I-Is that how it works? But what am I supposed to do when that one wants to become one with her!”
“One, my ass! One plus one is two! You bastards don’t even know addition? Never heard that a coffin only fits one person?! If you were born alone, then you die alone too, so what the hell are you whining about? You little punk, you’re seriously hopeless. How old are you?!”
There it was.
Joseon Confucian Martial Arts, First Form: How Old Are You.
(Translation: What kind of genealogy did you crawl out of to be this insolent? Let’s establish our relative seniority so I can start educating you.)
“You look like a student, but…