Todd couldn't describe his feelings right now.
Was it fear, or depression, or had he given up thinking completely?
Or were there more negative emotions flooding his brain?
He didn't know.
He thought no one would feel happy after being kidnapped by a madman.
"I, Todd Speck, twenty-three years old this year, have no residence, no job, no savings. My biggest interest every day is to find old folks to get some coins to spend. They give them to me voluntarily, so it's not a crime. Even if treated as fraud, I wouldn't get even a year's sentence..."
Todd muttered to himself for a long time in a low voice. Suddenly, he scratched his head frantically and said in a desolate tone:
"What am I doing..."
He curled up in the corner of a dim room, the house not even having windows, filled with tightly stuffed weeds, seemingly just shoved in recently. A damp, moldy smell lingered in the room, resembling an empty shell of a home, with the only positive being its cleanliness.
"Pop —"
