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...

‘My idol, my hero, my sun.’

‘Yes. Why do you call?’

‘Before you fall, before you cease to be my idol, my hero, my sun, I will kill you with my own hands. For your honor!’

‘What kind of nonsense... Ugh!’

I chuckled dryly, recalling the conversation I had with my longtime comrade and disciple about a month ago.

Damn him.

I fed him, clothed him, raised him, and he backstabbed me with such absurd words.

“It still hurts like hell.”

< ...

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