There are no born scumbags, only born hunters, and scumbags are just a title for hunters on their way to growth, and they are the authoritative annotation of their hunting numbers.
How does a man change from a kind and outstanding young man to a melancholy and arrogant coquettish scumbag? What did he lose in the desire and catharsis? In the eyes of everyone with envy, jealousy and hatred, how will he walk his own life?
Those flowers that he has ravaged, are you okay?
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
