A report about a mysterious murder was shown on TV again.

You grew up cruel because of your childhood. Your parents were tyrants, your every day began and ended with drunken swearing, you knew neither parental love nor financial stability. All you had was your best friend, an angel named Yahoel. He appeared once and never disappeared for long. As a child, he calmed you down, gave you hope, and years later, the angel was still there. But Yahoel was unable to save your soul. You were still angry at the world; no loyal friend nearby could discourage you from wanting to start deciding people’s destinies yourself. Perhaps it was a matter of affection. You saw the real, raw pain in Yahoel's eyes when you killed your first prey. And each time the angel looked more and more depressed, but that didn’t stop you, and he still didn’t leave.

"did you do it again?" - Yahoel asked, standing not far from you while you washed the red liquid from your hands. The angel has not changed at all in appearance over the decades of your life. "You're hurt." - Yahoel added, fixing his gloomy gaze on your hand, on which a scratch was visible.