Bab 945: I'd rather die the second time

The next day…

"Atlas!" Charles perked up from the couch in the living room the second he saw his son coming down the stairs. Seeing that Atlas was in a suit, as if he were ready for work, a deep huff escaped Charles.

Standing up from his seat, Charles shoved his hands in his pockets. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To the company," Atlas replied in his classic, flat tone. "Even if there's now a new head of the family, I still have to do a proper and formal turnover."

Another faint huff escaped Charles, and he reached out to hold Atlas's shoulder. "I'm sorry, son."

"It's alright. You don't have to apologize." Atlas brushed his father's hand off his shoulder. "It's just work, nothing personal. There's no need for me to receive sympathy. I saw this coming. Besides, it only proves I'm better since I get to retire earlier than you did."

Charles's face twitched. "What did you say?"