In That Mushroom Field with Blooming Flowers

Once upon a time, I didn't know the meaning of living in this world. When I turned 17, I walked into the forest early. I killed the fox and pointed the barrel at the happy swans on the lake, not letting go of any life that was lingering. I don't like flowers, they are an eyesore, and I get angry when I look at them. They sway their proud petals, greedily absorbing the sun and rain, but they just do this... Of course, I am the same. I just do it for myself, for food, for those tiger fur coats, and to make my short wooden house shine with oil. In fact, I don't know what I do for it. Maybe it's not as good as those flowers everywhere. The answer to that question, I still failed in the end... Until one morning, a stranger was waiting for me quietly at the door... This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.