On the way back to Qiaodong, I was stopped. It's annoying, it's this group of people again.

"Hey, little bum, did you get food today?" It's the bastard with a scar on his face again.

"Haha, I guess not, otherwise how would he be yellow and thin?"

"No, no, no, he's always been like this, a child without a father or mother."

"Oooh! Hahaha! ”

"Please let me go, I want to pass through here." I looked them in the eye and said without humility or arrogance.

"Want to pass through here? Yes, drill through here. The scar man gave me a contemptuous look and pointed to his crotch.

"Hahaha, drill, how about you drill and we not only let you pass, but also give you a piece of bread?" One of them laughed, pulled a piece of moldy black bread out of his pocket, and said to me.

"Not only bread, but also beer, you see, fresh beer!" The other person was holding a bottle. The smell wafting out of the bottle, I knew it wasn't beer at all.

When the others heard this, they all laughed uncontrollably.

I didn't speak, just looked the man in the lead.

"Phew!" The man spat and laughed at his so-called brothers and said, "Yo, you see, he's still glaring at me, haha, I'll let you stare at me!" With that, he kicked me in the chest, and the others beat me as if they had heard the order.

I could only hold my head as best I could, shrinking and enduring.

This is already the norm.

I was an orphan and I was only seven years old when my parents left me. I can't remember how they died, and I can't remember how I ended up in the city. I don't even know what I'm called - names don't really matter to me.

For as long as I can remember, there was a time when the city seemed lively. There were a lot of people running around the street, and I saw that they were all carrying a lot of beautiful or golden things in their hands, and they went to a shop full of bread to change some bread.

Soon they ran out of bread in the bakery, and those who came behind could not change anything, whether they begged or scolded.

From the muttering of the departed, I learned that our country had surrendered and needed to pay a large amount of money, so something about the economy collapsed. I don't understand these things, I just know that the bakery on the street that would give me expired bread never gave me anything to eat again.

At one point, I thought I was going to starve to death. But fortunately, God didn't give up on me (I don't know what God is, but in the church where food is distributed, people often pray for God's mercy), and a friend of mine told me that three blocks away, there is a small building, and every night a middle-aged woman comes out with some food and distributes it to the homeless people in the surrounding area.

I was overjoyed, and immediately rushed to the small building with my friends to wait.

In the evening, sure enough, a middle-aged woman walked out of the door with food, and the homeless people who were waiting around hurriedly surrounded her. My friend and I also tried to squeeze in, and since we were both small, we easily got through the gap to the front.

The middle-aged woman noticed the two of us and said, "Poor boy, take these breads." As she spoke, she handed us two breads and a loaf of bread each.

We received the hand and immediately stuffed it into our mouths, because we had already noticed the way the person next to us looked at us.

In this way, we showed up there on time every evening, and the middle-aged women brought us food on time.

The food she gave us was really amazing, not moldy, just a few bites, but more of it was intact.

About three years passed like this, until one evening we saw a group of men in black police uniforms rushing into the building with guns raised. Then several gunshots rang out, and since then, the middle-aged woman has not been seen to bring us food.

Later, I learned that the name of the group of people was the Gestapo, and they went in to liquidate the people who betrayed the motherland. Those traitors gained huge wealth by selling their compatriots, which is why everyone is worried about food now, while the people in the small building never worry about food, and are so rich that some food is thrown away after a bite.

And the person who brought us food was a maid in a small building, and the Gestapo did not embarrass her, but sent her back to the country.

Although I regret not having Xiaolou as a source of food, I will not starve to death because of this - the bakery on the street has expired bread to be distributed to us homeless people.

I think the "economy" thing is back, right?

Personally, I think people are ugly, and when they were desperately thinking about where tomorrow's food would be yesterday, they were all kind priests. But as soon as they start to worry about tomorrow's food, some people start having fun.

Some are more normal entertainment, while others take pleasure in hurting people who can't hold their fists.

Scarface falls into the latter category. I can't remember exactly when they started bullying me every day. Maybe it's because I'm too tired from working during the day, or maybe I'm angry in front of other people with bigger fists than them, I don't know.

I feel humiliated and angry about this, but I will not resist every time, because I know that this senseless resistance will only bring them greater happiness and hurt me more until I have enough strength.

It's the same today. After beating me, they laughed as usual and left together.

I slowly got up from the ground, wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, and limped to the bridge where I lived.

I swore that when I had enough strength, I would take revenge on them, and I remembered every punch and kick.

Walking back to the bridge cave in pain, I took out some rancid bread from my arms, but fortunately, it was not broken while I was blocking it with my body.

The bread was a little dry, and I choked on it, and quickly reached into the depths of the bridge behind me, where there was a broken bottle I had picked up for water. But then a bottle of water suddenly appeared in front of me, and it came out from behind me.

I forgot about the pain of choking for a moment, and slowly turned my head to look behind me.

A man crouched behind me, dressed in the same black uniform I've ever seen!

He smiled and stretched his water bottle towards me, motioning for a drink. I didn't recover from the shock, I just took the water bottle and took a big sip.

"Want revenge?" He asked me with a smile.

I looked at him stunned, I didn't know who he was, I didn't know how he got behind me, and I didn't know what revenge meant.

He repeated again: "Want revenge? Take revenge on all those who have bullied you, and those who have ruined everything. ”

I nodded subconsciously.

When he saw me nodding, he waved his hand behind him, and several men dressed in the same clothes as him appeared in front of me, and the few people who took pleasure in bullying me appeared.

He took a pistol from the person next to him, put it in my hand, and taught me how to use it: "Pull it down here, this is the release of insurance." Pull the sleeve back and the bullet is loaded. Aim at the person you want to kill, pull the trigger and you're good to go. Okay, come out and look for me when you're done, I'll wait for you outside. ”

Then he led the others out of the bridge, leaving me with my pistol.

I turned to look at the scumbags, and now they no longer had the madness, the joy, the twisted fear and snot and tears on their faces.

"Hahaha." I laughed, or cried, "Have you ever thought about what this looks like?" ”

"Let me go, I really won't dare anymore." Scarface cried to me, twisting desperately to come over, but unfortunately they were all tied up, and the struggle was in vain.

How could I let them go? Raising my pistol, I shot bullet after bullet into the chest of anyone except Scarface.

Finally, I grabbed my pistol and walked up to Scarface, covered in blood, and looked at him pitifully for a while, and shot all the remaining bullets into his body.

I've never felt so happy, and an indescribable feeling came to me.

I walked out of the bridge and handed the gun back to the man.

"What's your name, please?" I asked boldly, feeling inappropriate because I was covered in blood.

"My name is Leon Andrés, you can call me General Leon." He was still smiling, as if ignoring my blood.

"Can I follow you in the future?" I asked again.

"How can you help me?"

"You give me food, I'll help you kill, is that okay?"

"I don't lack you a killer, but it's a great offer. What is your name? ”

"I'm ...... I'm Manfred Andrés! ”