"I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry. Flash Dance "

"I'm sorry"

A faint apology, faint and trembling echoed through the dark and closed alley.

Along with it was the recognizable muffled sound of the soles of shoes hitting the belly.

Click, click.

The two lighters lit with a particularly crisp sound, and the firelight lit up, lighting the cigarette in the man's mouth.

"Scoop."

A mouthful of thick phlegm spat on the face of the boy lying on the ground.

The boy just held his head, not daring to complain in the slightest.

"It's really a bummer, as a shit, don't you have the consciousness to hide yourself?"

The man frowned in the faint light of the fire, his big feet still treading on the boy's tangled, clumpy dirty hair like stepping on a leather ball.

The voice was just plain and unemotional, as if there was nothing wrong with this approach.

"We, the Fakun Autonomous Mission, should have already said that from this month onwards, this neighborhood will be the territory of our Autonomous Mission."

"All infected people must be removed immediately, with a three-day deadline and a deadline of yesterday."

As he spoke, the man raised his wrist and looked at his watch.

0003

"Exactly, just over three minutes."

"Yes, I'm sorry."

The boy clasped his head tightly in his hands, trying to curl up his young body, his thin but wide robe covering every inch of his skin.

However, there were still lumps of condensation on his skin under the robe, which appeared to be stones.

The boy kept repeating the words.

The voice was already too weak to be heard.

The pain caused by the bruise and lump on his head, and the sourness that kept rolling in his abdomen, tortured him to the point that he couldn't scream at all, saliva unconsciously trickled down the corners of his mouth, and his whole body was extremely sore.

"I'm just, so hungry."

He muttered unconsciously.

The man didn't notice the silent murmur at all, and looked at the boy's skinny body curled up, which was quite boring.

If he hadn't just lost a bet with the cadre in the bar, he wouldn't have come out to do this.

The man circled around the half-fainted boy, trying to pick him up and throw him out, but he didn't like it too dirty to reach out, so he kicked him and rolled him out like a ball.

Until he kicked him to the side of the street at the intersection of the other block, he didn't want to move. Reaching out and tightening the thick leather coat on his body, he turned his head and walked back.

It's really cold.

The boy who fell into a semi-fainting instinctively tightened his thin but wide gray robe, and the immature skin under the robe was scratched a lot in the process of rubbing against the ground, and there were wounds everywhere, and blood slid down the source stones on the skin, faintly penetrating the gray robe.

The blood was still warm.

The boy curled up as hard as he could, as if as long as he lay here like this, hunger and cold would not come, and he would not have to suffer the misery of waking up.

However, the sharp cramping in his stomach always prevented him from wishing, and even if he had fainted, it forced him back from the warm dream and faced the cold reality.

Why is that

Morian struggled to wrap his robes tightly, curling himself into a ball, with only his mouth and nose exposed.

Every breath exhaled leaves a white mist in the icy air.

Why, I live so hard?

Is it just because I'm infected

Why did Mom and Dad abandon me?

Why did my grandfather, who used to love me the most, kick me out of the house with a cane?

Why don't you give me something to eat

Why didn't you even give me a chance to work?

Painful memories will always appear in people's minds again and again when they are most painful, and people will review them again and again when they are most unbearable, break them and crumple them, stuff them into their mouths, and force people to chew.

Morian misses the feeling of being able to cry and make trouble.

But now I can't feel a single wet mark in the corner of my eye.

Compared to this, the hunger in the stomach and the pain in the body seem to be nothing.

The mental pain is often a hundred times more intense than the physical.

But who knows

The north wind remains.

Spring in Chernobog is always colder than winter, and the temperature is minus forty or fifty degrees all year round, even the strong and frost-resistant Usas dare not resist, and vodka and tequila must be complete to be complete.

In this kind of weather, the streets are naturally cold and cold, and you can't see two people for a long time.

Morian was a little unconscious from hunger, but his instinct was still there, and his trembling body, wrapped in a thin robe, wriggled like a caterpillar into a sunken corner of the street.

It seems that if you maintain this posture, you will be less likely to be taken away by the cold wind.

I don't know how long it took, until Morian faintly felt that his whole body was starting to heat up, and suddenly he saw a pair of white hands.

Between his hands, he held a small steel basin unique to Ursas, which contained a thick porridge of thick meat that was steaming hot.

Morian thought he was probably hallucinating from hunger, a sight he had seen before, but in a dream.

Now, naturally, there are no surprises.

"Drink it while it's still hot."

A gentle female voice sounded in her ears.

Morian was stunned.

Looking up with difficulty, looking out from the inside of the gloomy robe, it was a woman with inverted dragon horns on top of her head and a pair of red pupils.

Beside her, there was a woman with half-length blonde hair and a pair of cat ears on top of her head, her eyes fixed on a screen in mid-air, and her fingers were pointing on it, not knowing what it was.

"Can you still move, do you want me to help you?"

Morian reacted suddenly, looked down at the porridge in front of him, and swallowed his Adam's apple exaggeratedly.

He looked first at the woman, then at the bowl, and only after he had made sure that he had been allowed to do so that his small, slender hand trembled out of his robe and carefully touched the steel basin.

The long-lost warmth made his eyes red instantly.

The woman laughed and pushed the bowl towards him.

"Hurry up and eat."

Mo Ruian didn't have time to think about anything else, he thought that he couldn't squeeze out his thin arm with any strength and dragged it across the steel basin violently, holding it firmly in both hands, and the whole little dirty face was about to be stuffed into the basin, swallowing it in a big gulp, and he couldn't even care about chewing.

As Morian ate, tears fell in large pieces.

The woman just smiled quietly and watched him eat.

When he was almost finished, she suddenly asked, "Are you infected?"

Morrian's movements suddenly froze.

Goo-dong.

The thin and slender little hand almost didn't hold the rice bowl, but fortunately the woman held it with one hand and didn't fall to the ground.

Just the word "infected" seems to have infinite magical power, enough to drive people to death.

"I, I"

Morian struggled to spit out a few characters.

The big eyes, which were very bright because of the contrast of dirty and thin cheeks, stared closely at the expression on the woman's face.

It seemed like trying to see the answer in her face.

The woman just looked at him with a calm smile.

Finally, Morian looked at the steel basin containing the porridge, and as if he had mustered great courage, he carefully placed it on the ground, and wrinkled his little face as if he were going to be tortured.

"I, I'm infected."

As soon as the words fell, Morian habitually lowered his head, and his body curled up unconsciously.

However, after waiting for several seconds, there was no waiting for the usual scolding and punching.

Morian looked up strangely.

Then, I saw the woman rubbing his head indifferently, and she still had that warm smile on her face.

"Coincidentally, so did I."

"In that case, then we are companions."

"You seem to have a miserable time here, come with me."

It was obviously a command, but looking at the woman's calm expression, Morian suddenly felt like his heart had been hit.

"I'll be able to eat enough."

The woman added.

Morian stared at her stupidly.

As if remembering something, the woman suddenly crouched down in front of him, stretched out her hand to him, and smiled as warm as the summer days of Ursas that were only two months of the year.

"I almost forgot."

"Meet me, my name is Tallulah."