When she heard those words, Anna's face showed a look of realization. "Always feigning kindness, but when it's your own skin on the line, you have regrets? So it's only when the knife cuts your own flesh that you finally feel the pain."
Roy argued, visibly agitated, "I can give everything for the IMF, but not my child—what parent in the world could watch their own child be sent to die!?"
The car's interior fell silent, with only the roar of the engine breaking the stillness. After a long while, Anna slowly spoke, her voice clearly softer.
"You're a good father. Tragically, some people aren't. Not every son of a bitch deserves to be one."
Roy, his face twisted in pain, continued, "I reported it to the higher-ups countless times, proving my child isn't a threat, but every request was denied. They even sent people to watch me. When Tuba knocked on my door for some unknown reason, I just couldn't bear it anymore. My request isn't excessive—I just want him to grow up safely."
