The black-haired boy stood in the dark alleyway, the sunlight pouring down from the sky, illuminating only one of his raised arms.

The reason why he raised his arms high, and even stood on tiptoe, was because he thought that there was still wine in the bottle he was holding in his hand, and he had made such a funny pose in order to prevent the wine from spilling.

He was very sad now, not because he was drunk, but because he was afraid of the wine and wanted to drink, and he was in a very stupid dilemma.

Obviously, he was drunk.

And very drunk.

It stands to reason that as a contractor who is always in danger, he should not have lost his temper like this, and this kind of behavior is no different from suicide, but he did it anyway.

Because he is Yu Ho Gu.

Once a person falls into despair, he will never be a fearless struggler.

In the midst of this long-lost drunkenness, he laughed foolishly, and fell against the low wall on the slightly heated concrete floor.

A peeled journal fell out of his arms and was picked up by a long, powerful hand.

The person who picked up the notebook hesitated for a moment and opened it-

"I'm a useless person, I know that."

"I am as low as dust, and I have no value in death."

"I am afraid of getting along with people, and I am even more afraid of being angry, and I can always see in people's angry faces the animal nature that is more terrible than lions, crocodiles, and snakes and scorpions."

"I know they're going to hide this ugly nature, but that's hypocrisy."

"The only thing I can be sure of in my life is - as long as the time comes!"

"This kind of nature will be like a sleeping cow that suddenly kills the cow on its stomach with a 'snap' of its tail, which is suddenly exposed and makes people shudder."

"I've seen and witnessed this countless times, and please forgive me for being cowardly."

"I'm going to die.

"You must be a gentle and good person when you pick up this diary and see it here, so please keep reading."

"I will use the courage of my life to explain to you the horror of 'man', and I hope that you can escape from the pain of human interaction, and do not drown in it like me."

Turning the page, the story of the 'man' was written in rather scribbled words -

"I was born into a family with many children."

"My father was a dignified man, and I never saw a smile on his face, but sometimes, for some reason (forgive me for not daring to speculate), he would show closeness to his children."

"When that time comes, my father will gather us in the big, cold living room and ask us – is there anything we want? My older siblings, younger siblings, would happily pester my father, saying this and that. But I didn't dare, and every time my father asked me what I wanted, I was speechless for a long time. ”

"Father naturally doesn't like me like this, I know."

"But I am in such a hot and watery situation, and I have to think with this stupid brain, and I think that he should, indeed, very much want to buy me something, at least, in front of outsiders, to make people think that he is a good father."

"So he would always ask me again individually – 'Boys your age like toy models, don't you like toy models?' ”

"It's like out of some kind of bestial instinct (yes, there is also a human evil nature in me), in the face of my father's serious face, don't say an answer, I don't even dare to breathe, and I will even faint when something happens."

"Whenever this happens, my father will become a rampaging bison, and I am the 'bull hooligan' who died because of his parasitism."

"All the good atmosphere will be ruined by this me, and I am guilty."

"Although I don't want to do this, I am destined to have no control over my life, or rather, I can't live if I don't attach myself to certain people, this is my evil nature."

The person who flipped through the diary sighed and continued to read—

"Ah, you see, I'm such a useless person, telling the most important stories, and I will go off-topic."

"Please let me go on."

"Forced to know the evil nature of human beings, I saw in that moment my father's expectation that his son would be classified as 'normal', and I did what he wanted.

"I would tremble and endure the sleepiness, deliberately get up at four o'clock in the morning, when everyone is asleep, and write neatly on the paper—'I want toy models,' and then quietly clipped the note into the briefcase next to my father's bed."

"I know he looks through that briefcase every day."

"It pretends that his secretary always writes him some incomprehensible and clumsy speeches, and he himself spreads those words to every corner of the world with an angry attitude, I find it extremely boring, but I am not qualified to comment."

"Damn, I'm going to get away again!"

In fact, this kind of communication is like that in ancient times, which is itself what he longed for - even the most introverted child would have a heart-to-heart with him, secretly hoping to get his love.

"My entire childhood and adolescence were labelled as 'reserved and quiet,' and I was able to continue to parasitize on my father and make ends meet."

"But the terrible monster in the human heart will grow with time, I never expected, it will never be satisfied, and I will soon be swallowed by it."

"No, I guess my feet have been torn apart and eaten, otherwise, how could I have been so quiet in that solemn 'castle'?"

"It hurts, but I can't feel it."

"I can't leave this oppressive 'castle', I have to live, I'm so timid that I don't even dare to die......"

At this point, the diary is suddenly empty, and the long blank space is a full seventeen pages, and on the eighteenth page, the story seems to have come to an end—

"Fortunately, the day of liberation has finally come."

"I have a new parasite, I don't know what kind of person he is, but I guess he must be a good person, otherwise, how would he be willing to take me in such useless waste?"

"Hopefully, one day, I can help him with something."

"For some special reason, I can't write his name here, please forgive me for being a little willful."

"I won't beg you to save me from the imminent death (after all, I have no value in existing)"

"But I want you to remember that my tragedy is only a very special small probability event, and the world must be warm and bright."

Flipping back further, the contents of the diary are no longer so depressing, but more of some daily records, such as-'Today the young lady next door gave me a bouquet of flowers, hoping that I can sign her name--alas, I never understand why anyone would like my scribbled scrap paper...... Alas...... It's time to move again. ’

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