Jay stood as if proud after winning a street, informal race. With one hand, he held the bike, and with the other, his helmet. His opponent was the man who insulted his late uncle.

Gray eyes in the semi-darkness, slightly gave off a blue glow from the lanterns. Jay looked down, emotionless, not even twitching an eyebrow. And soon, a monotonous, deep voice came out of his mouth.

— Somehow you apologize without a soul. On your knees.