“Dad, come here. He hit me!"

The three pairs of dads and their sons, engaged in kicking, rushed over one by one.

The boy's father, a tall and muscular man in his thirties with a stern look, seemed tough.

Seeing the scratches on his son's face, he became furious.

He turned and slapped Sheldon across the face.

"How could you scratch my son's face like that? Say you're sorry to him!"

He hit Sheldon so hard that Sheldon lost his balance and fell. The left side of his face swelled up right away.

Tears filled his eyes, but he did his best not to let them out.

Elma, who had been on a call nearby with her family, saw what happened, quickly ended her call, and rushed over.

“What's going on here?"

“Nanny Elma."

Sheldon burst into tears at the sight of her, his voice breaking with each word.

Elma lifted Sheldon upright. Seeing the swelling on his forehead and chhek, she was both shocked and furious.

"Sheldon, who did this to you?"

Sheldon pointed at the man and his son. "Them."

“Humph, my dad taught him a lesson!" the chubby boy yelled proudly.

Elma, seeing the handprint on Sheldon's face, shook with rage.

"Sir, he's just a child. How could you hit him like that? How cruel!"

The man retorted, "Old witch, take a look at my son's face. He got those scratches from this brat. A slap is the least I could do. I was being generous."

Elma exclaimed, "You..