95 Survivors =/= Group

Lee Dojin stood up again. He stared at his fist. His brows furrowed. "Fuck, it really is hard to play the good guys, huh?" The boy turned around, his sight filled with the pale-faced survivors.

What was he supposed to say here? His mind blanked for any excuse. Maybe because he did not really want to excuse himself. This was the world he lived in the past decade. The world of the Mirage. Kill, and be prepared to get killed. The strong created the rules; justice is defined by the victors. 

No, even before the Mirage began, he had lived this way.

Still, this was hardly an excuse for what he did. Sure, in reality, he didn't have to explain himself, and no one here was strong enough to question his choices so he had naught to care about it, but that was not a world he wished to live in.