With the bread, the siblings wouldn't starve for the next couple of days.
He didn't give them money because he knew they couldn't hold onto it.
The siblings, clutching at their bread, were visibly moved, the gloomy expressions on their pale faces brightening a bit.
The clown, seeing this, couldn't help but smile in satisfaction.
He stood up and put his gas mask back on, his gaze once more returning to its usual cold, detached state.
Leonard Churchill turned around and left.
Just a few steps later, he heard the sister's hurried voice from behind, "Thank you, sir. My name is… Winter."
Upon hearing this, Leonard, still beneath his gas mask, gave a small smile.
He did not look back but continued walking away.
Despite his own struggles for survival, even he could not bear to see other people's hardship.
That is what a clown does, after all.
Life pelts him with its pain, and he responds with laughter.
A clown's ridiculous performance brings joy to others.