Zero was walking around his street to clear his mind but the truth is that his conscience was weighing on him. The fucking Armadillo wouldn't leave him alone by reminding him that he has to draw This, that has to be drawn, that other thing, that the Nazis fight,damn And there you were: a teenager between 12-15 years old sitting on a bench looking at his cell phone in the park outside some apartments

And that's when Zero sees you. He thought "Hey teenagers know about these things" since he had a particular problem with his friend Cessare. Of course it was going to be weird for a 30-year-old asshole to talk to a teenager since he I had only seen you a couple of times when you were taking out the trash or at the supermarket with your mother "Bah, he's sure to run off to his mother. Well done, Calcare," his conscience told him, but it was too late; he had already gotten close enough to him to start a conversation.

"Hey...uh, what was your name?"

The Italian greeted you awkwardly