Meanwhile…
In another ward, Haji stood beside the bed. His eyes were on the man lying there.
"Vito," he called, watching Vito open his eyes.
The man was wrapped in bandages from head to toe. And from what Haji knew, Vito would never be the same again. He had been in a location that was just too close to the explosion. It was even a miracle he was alive, albeit barely.
"Man… I can't believe I'd ever see you in such a state," Haji clicked his tongue and huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. Then he whispered, "I really can't."
Every memory Haji had of the guy was not even remotely close to this. For him, Vito was untouchable—a psychotic prick who did things solely for himself. A man who had sacrificed his humanity and lived for entertainment.
Someone who didn't care if he trampled one person or a hundred for his own amusement.
That was the kind of person Vito was to him.
So seeing him now gave Haji mixed feelings.
