Chapter 145
Tak. Tak. Tak.
An old man, holding a carving knife with weathered hands, was sculpting wood with a look of deep affection in his eyes.
Creak.
Just then, the latch on the door opened, and a child covered in wounds from head to toe walked into the house.
“Martin!”
Startled, the old man stopped his work and grabbed a handkerchief, inspecting Martin’s injuries.
“Tsk, tsk. Fighting again?”
Despite his scolding tone, his eyes were filled with worry. Martin looked away, appearing guilty.
“They kept picking fights with me, so what was I supposed to do? They even went and broke those wooden dolls you sell on the street for no reason…”
“Martin. The most important thing is that you don’t get hurt. Let’s see. Now where is that medicine?”
Bösehaver began searching the shelves for medicine to treat Martin’s wounds.
“Cough, cough.”
He suddenly broke into a fit of coughing, perhaps having choked on his own breath, and when he covered his mouth, his hand was stained with blood.
“…”
Bösehaver nonchalantly wiped his hand and mouth with his handkerchief, then approached Martin with the medicine.
Apply. Apply.
As he began spreading the ointment on the wounds, Bösehaver gave a small chuckle and spoke to Martin.
“Martin. Is there anything you want to do when you grow up?”
“Not particularly.”
“You will likely grow up seeing many things in an environment that doesn’t even compare to this place.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because that is the nature of your talent.”
Bösehaver smiled warmly and stroked Martin’s head. Martin, seemingly embarrassed, avoided his gaze once more.
