‘I was careless.’
Although he was filled with regret, it was not something he could undo.
He used up all the herbs that may have been useful against illness when cooking soup in Morata Village.
‘Now I can really do nothing.’
Weed closed his eyes silently.
The rocky ground felt as cold as a sheet of ice, and cold air came in from everywhere. In these circumstances, a cold could only get worse.
His hands and feet were already getting numb. Death was approaching.
‘Just why did I have to get sick.... so pathetic.’
With his eyes closed, he looked back to his past.
Ever since he was little he took any job for the sake of money. To help his grandmother who was working in the street market, even at such an old age, he would work anywhere as long as they took under aged employees, when he should have been playing with friends of his age.
Since it was illegal, the working conditions were the worst possible, and he never got paid on time.
Still, because he worked over vacation without sleeping, he could gain a bit of money.
But now he had a type of work that he have never done before, and by pushing himself too much, his body couldn’t endure.