Unfairness of the humanity

I grew up in a destitute family, struggling to survive in a ruthless city. I never had the opportunity to attend school, socialize with friends, or relish my childhood. Instead, I acquired the art of chicanery, perfidy, and larceny. At fifteen, I joined a notorious gang called RRN, peddling drugs and accepting bribes for them. I thought I had found my niche in the world; however, my precarious life took a tragic turn when a rival gang attacked my home.

They slaughtered my mom and dad in cold blood. I arrived too late to save them; I only found their lifeless bodies on the floor. A torrent of grief, rage, and despair flooded my heart. I swore vengeance on the murderers, whom I recognized as former members of RRN. I knew their names, faces, and hideouts; I had once been one of them.

"Bestowal of such tragedy and then unfairness of class," I muttered to myself. "I condone the acceptance. You all shall suffer the pain."

I find myself powerless to take any further steps, now that I've distanced myself from that gang," he muttered, lost in thought. "There seems to be just one viable option: I must relocate to a different city, for there's no one left for me here.

I made the move to another city—Lixjet, a place known as the city of dreams. Lixjet experiences a constant influx of individuals each month. They arrive with their hopes and aspirations, each one seeking something unique. Some come here to study, while others aim to build their lives from scratch.

However, even in this city of dreams, a shadowed reality exists. We encounter countless crimes: stabbings, child trafficking, kidnappings, and rape. The frequency of these incidents is on the rise, akin to an infectious virus.

As I wasn't familiar with this area, rival gangs operated in the vicinity. Reluctant to take any hasty steps, I find myself cautious. Now, my priority is to locate a suitable place to consider living within this city.

I tried searching for every type of job, yet I encountered a roadblock. No one here seems willing to hire without a valid ID, as my criminal record from the past hangs over me. Holding my ID in anyone's hand has become almost impossible.

As I turned, a voice broke through, "Lay a hand on my shoulder." Startled, I looked back, meeting the gaze of an unfamiliar figure. "Do you want anything?" I inquired. He responded with a familiar tune, "Are you in search of any jobs?" Despite my reservations, I hesitated, his enigmatic look making it hard to discern his intentions.

In need of money in this unfamiliar place, I finally relented. "Yes, I'm in need of a job." A disarming smile crossed his face, and then he said, "Well, then I've got the perfect job for you. One that you're good at." My confusion and fear of being exposed started to surface.

With a trembling voice, I managed to ask him about the nature of the job. He replied cryptically, "The place where you belong." My words stumbled, my uncertainty palpable.