Quick Transmigration: Underdog Turns out to be Untouchable Chapter 1133 - 1043: Raising My Younger Brother in the Futur

He was a thin and weak man, with short hair and wrinkled clothes, looking plain and ordinary.

But Mad Wolf knew that this seemingly down-and-out man was actually an Official Martial Artist, and the reason he was living in such a poor condition in a communal building was because he was fond of gambling and drinking, unable to save any money.

This man was too familiar to him, for he was once the nightmare of his childhood, the initiator who led him out of the city to beco a wanderer—this man was his father.

Since his rebirth, Mad Wolf had never thought about this man, because in his mory, childhood was too painful, endless beatings and scoldings, clearly having parents, yet often starving.

It was not the ordinary feeling of hunger; it was the kind that caused stomach cramps, so severe that it made him nauseous with nothing to vomit out.

That maddening hunger was really unbearable, and many tis, Mad Wolf survived only because kind neighbors gave him so food.

As for that mother, Mad Wolf was even less willing to think about it. When he was being beaten and scolded, his mother always hid away, fearing she would be affected.

Even when avoiding confrontation, his mother couldn’t escape his father’s beatings and scoldings. But Mad Wolf never pitied that woman, because after being beaten, his mother would take it out on him by beating and scolding him.

After being reborn, Mad Wolf never thought of looking for these parents, but he never expected to et them unexpectedly here.

This man suddenly appeared in front of him, and the deliberately forgotten and blurred childhood mories that Mad Wolf had tried to suppress were partially awakened.

Mad Wolf rembered when he was little, when his father gambled and had money, they lived well, ate well, and because he was in a good mood, he wouldn’t beat him much.

So, Mad Wolf’s greatest wish as a child was for his father to win money, because only then could he eat his fill, and at the very least, he wouldn’t starve too badly. Most importantly, if his father won money, he would be in a good mood, and Mad Wolf wouldn’t get beaten.

Unfortunately, Mad Wolf’s father was not very lucky at gambling, winning less often and losing more frequently. Every ti he was out of money, the family lived poorly, moving to better places when they had money again.

It could be said that Mad Wolf’s childhood was spent constantly moving, always relocating from one rented place to another.

In his deliberately faded childhood mories, Mad Wolf vaguely rembered that his family did indeed live in this communal building for a while.

Because his father lost a large sum of money gambling, the family suddenly found themselves penniless and had no choice but to move out of the high-end villa they had just moved into, ending up in this communal building.

They lived in this building for either two or three months; Mad Wolf couldn’t recall exactly.

But what he rembered most vividly was the ti when his father ca back furious after losing money gambling and pounded him severely.

That ti, Mad Wolf was nearly beaten to death. If it hadn’t been for a neighbor who heard the commotion and beca frightened enough to call the police at the last mont, he might really have been beaten to death.

Thinking about these painful past mories, Mad Wolf couldn’t help but tighten his grip around Qu Shuangshuang’s neck.

Qu Shuangshuang halted her steps due to her brother’s movents and looked up to see her beloved brother’s eyes focusing intensely on a particular place, staring straight ahead without even a turn.

Curious, Qu Shuangshuang followed Chang’an’s gaze and saw a crowd gathered, seemingly watching so commotion.

Assuming that children liked to watch such uproar, Mad Wolf might have gotten curious seeing people gather for the spectacle.

Always doting on her brother, Qu Shuangshuang thought it was no big deal to let him watch the excitent, as it was in human nature. She quickly shifted her steps and squeezed into the crowd with Chang’an to watch the lively scene.

The people around were whispering. Qu Shuangshuang caught a few snippets and deduced from their conversations that there was an incident of dostic violence taking place.

It seed like a father was beating his son for so unknown reason, and the son couldn’t take it anymore, running out onto the road, injured and crying for help.

Qu Shuangshuang saw the beaten child, appearing to be about eight or nine years old, curled up under the root of a big tree, shaking and silently crying.

The child was emaciated, with sallow skin and thin, sparse hair, clearly suffering from malnutrition, so thin that the features were distorted, like skin on bones.

The most horrific part was the various scars covering the child’s body, both new and old, scattered everywhere, a truly shocking sight.

Qu Shuangshuang frowned deeply. She never understood how soone could bear to be so harsh on a child, especially their own son, yet still be able to strike so relentlessly.

However, since the child wasn’t her own, there was nothing she could do. Outsiders could never thoroughly resolve the issue of child abuse at ho.

Even the police could only criticize and educate the parents, and afterward, the child still had to rely on them, as children couldn’t leave their parents until adulthood.

The man who was beating the child was being held back by several people, while a few others approached the child. One middle-aged woman was applying dicine to the child’s wounds with a dical kit.

With reddened eyes, she applied the dicine while speaking with heartache, "This is too harsh, look at what was done to this child. Having parents like this, the kid would be better off not being born."

The people around echoed the woman’s words, glaring angrily at the man who had beaten the child, while two others gave him a lesson in moral guidance.

The main point was teaching him that dostic violence was wrong, especially beating children; if he didn’t change his ways, hitting children and wives, they would call the police.

The man at this mont appeared very calm, lowering his eyes and ignoring the comnts, his expression showing cold indifference.

After being chastised more harshly, the man raised his head and looked coldly at the people lecturing him, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "I beat my own child, what business is it of yours?"

The two people advising him were stunned, and then filled with an inexplicable anger; this man was truly incorrigible.

But before they could explode or say anything more, the child being treated by the middle-aged woman suddenly looked at the man and shouted loudly.

"I’m not his son! I was bought by him, though I was only a few years old then, I rember a little. My parents weren’t them, they are not my biological parents!"