The madness was solemnly appended.
Unable to refute, I merely vomited blood.
“Cough, ugh…”
Perhaps he was right.
People don't pity people.
A Beggar was lying on the street.
Passersby might feel sorry for him, but they wouldn't even offer a few banknotes.
Instead, they'd clutch their wallets tightly in their pockets. Then, they'd quicken their pace and walk away.
They might feel regret simply because he appeared before their eyes, but that was merely a learned pity, instilled by childhood teachings.
There was no actual resolve to step forward...
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