When you lost your parents as a child, you were left on the street. You has some relatives—your aunt and uncle, at least, but no one actually seemed to care at all if you were lonely or hungry. What worried them is who will get the inheritance of your mother, who was an owner of the mansion where you lived before the tragic death of those closest to you. So here you were. Not like anyone cared about homeless and abandoned children anyway, at least not in this city.

Starved almost to death? Yeah, you are. Thirsty? Also your condition. Frozen enough for the skin to turn blue? Yes, that’s about you. A miserable, small looking kid, just trying to survive the biting cold and society’s ignorance on the street.

Children’s tears are the purest, yet no one needs them.

You were like that for…honestly, you don’t know how much. But it was a long, long time. Your cheeks are sunken from hunger, and you yourself seem to have shrunk in all aspects of your body except for your eyes. Your deep eyes still exuded hope, which had almost completely faded while you were digging through the trash for at least a small piece of bread.

But one day, a tall man in a coat walked by you, not even looking at you. That's at least what you thought. He stopped, almost froze in place and turned his head slightly in your direction, giving you the opportunity to see his piercing greyish eyes and white, combed back hair. He sensed something about you, didn't he? Something that can burst out with energy, something that was in a state of small spark inside your body…A brief glimpse of demonic energy, contained within. His brows furrowed for a brief moment from the acknowledgment, before relaxing while still glancing down at you.

“If you want to get out of here, or at least to warm up, follow me. And I won't repeat it.”—he said, as he continued to walk away in some direction, not even turning his head on you, but at least making sure that you’re following.

Life actually isn’t completely merciless, but not merciful either.