Everyone desires something of their own.
Money, Love, Power.
This is the innate nature of the creature called human—it does not change. If it did change, it would become another creature. Or it would die.
Without desire, there is no life.
A city as if splashed with deep gray color.
Alcoholism, promiscuity, drugs—far beyond normal levels—have infected this city.
Police are unnecessary in this city. Even finding a proper doctor is difficult.
Poor drunk people pile up in the streets.
They look like trash.
No more life than dogs.
There are countless buildings with broken windows where cold wind seeps in.
Here, merely being alive is enough.
Schools are polluted by violent bastards.
Alcohol and cigarettes in every classroom.
Even teachers ignore the rules and smoke openly.
Most sexual crimes happen in schools.
Raping children?
Raping women?
Even group murder is deeply embedded in these schools.
The state merely exists. Rotting from within.
Parasitic people are everywhere.
This city is called "Paradise."
Yes. It didn't get this name because it's a good place.
It's because it lies among the clouds.
And by clouds, I mean the smoke reeking from power plants.
Every class has an ataman.
Above him is yet another ataman who sees everyone else like cockroaches.
In one class, an entire class stomps on a single child.
In another, drug addiction.
It became like a wolf being eaten from the inside.
Soon the wolf can't endure its wounds and collapses. The city follows…
Behind the school.
A boy can be seen. His eyes hidden by thick black hair. Wearing dirty physical education clothes.
Inside him, he wasn't completely tainted yet.
But he wasn't snow-white either.
Just gray—like this city.
The boy is called Giro.
His gaze is fully lowered.
Small ants.
Yes, in his eyes they were truly working together and developing together.
But he knew.
They were merely being driven by the queen ant.
In the end, every worker ant fulfills the queen's desire until it dies.
Compared to this city, he thought, at least they have purpose.
Dark lines were drawn under his eyes.
Clearly exhausted.
Soon, several boys came out from around the corner.
They were intoxicated.
They hadn't even reached adulthood.
But no one had cared about them for a long time.
This alone was strange to Giro.
One boy immediately kicked Giro hard in the side.
Thud!!
Giro collapsed against the wall, clutching his side.
Breathing became difficult.
But he was already used to this.
He didn't even properly resist.
Then the tallest of the boys lifted him up.
Smack!!
He was struck directly.
Then again.
Smack!!
Again. Again. Again.
After several blows, Giro's cheek turned blood-red.
They grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers with his.
Then the tall one grinned.
Stared into Giro's dead eyes.
Lifted his chin with the other hand.
Licked the interlaced hand.
Went further.
With his tongue—wrist, forearm, even elbow.
The other boys watched with aroused expressions.
Like male dogs waiting for a bitch.
He pulled Giro closer.
Pressed him against his chest.
Licked his cheek, nose, then finally his mouth.
Then, like enraged bulls, they all charged at him…
This was an ordinary rape in an artificial city.
There was nothing interesting about it.
As the sun set and evening began,
Giro walked along the street.
Like an emotionless robot.
Inside, he was on the verge of madness.
But he kept it buried deep.
A two-story worn-down building.
Walls like cardboard.
As Giro climbed the stairs,
Lustful sounds came clearly from the neighboring room.
Giro ignored it and opened his dusty door handle.
An empty room.
He lived alone.
Just a few months ago, it had been slightly better.
He had a mother.
The only somewhat decent person he knew in this city.
She only beat him once or twice a month.
There is a law in this city that if you adopt an orphan, the state gives extra money every month.
She adopted Giro only for the money.
Giro knew this.
But he didn't care.
He seemed hungry.
From the refrigerator, he took what might have been the last packaged frozen thing left.
He heated it over the heater.
He sat at the table, staring at it.
The neighbor's sounds continued to seep in.
Thud!
When the food was ready, he placed a small portion next to the portrait of his mother in the other room.
Giro's mother had disappeared.
Without a trace.
Giro went to the police,
but they were just salary-taking scum.
He sat at the table and began eating without savoring it.
Because it tasted like stale, hardened bread.
As night came, Giro went to bed.
But this time, something was different.
His hands became freezing cold.
Giro fell asleep without noticing.
The bell rang.
School began.
Giro sat quietly.
Class time had started, but there wasn't a single teacher.
Only children acting however they pleased.
It was strange how this school even existed.
Giro continued sitting quietly.
He breathed.
Vapor came out of his mouth.
His dead eyes lifted slightly in surprise.
His hands became even colder.
The classroom was cold, but not enough for breath to turn to steam.
Only then did he realize his body itself had become freezing cold.
Giro immediately went to the restroom.
When he looked at himself in the mirror,
there were no signs of being cold.
He wondered if he had gotten sick.
He turned and examined his ice-cold hand.
When he touched his face with it—
Crack!
His head was struck with unbearable pain and he collapsed.
Tears even spilled from his eyes.
He clenched his teeth, trying to endure the pain.
He clenched them so hard that blood flowed from his mouth.
When looking at his pupils,
the brown color vanished, replaced by pitch-black, as if swallowing everything.
For the first time, he lost control and screamed loud enough to echo through the school.
"Aaahhhhhhh!!!!!"
Someone heard the scream
and moved toward the sound.