When I was sixteen, in order to protect my younger brother, I stabbed a gangster's palm with a sharpened toothbrush.
No one in the court listened to my explanation. They said I had no one to support me and that I was a scum of society.
I was thrown into juvenile detention.
There I learned a truth: If you don't fight or kill, you will be the one who dies.
Two years later, I walked out with scars all over my body and a group of brothers who were desperate for their lives.
This city owes me, and I want to get it back inch by inch.
Ten years later, I stood at the top of the city and overlooked all living beings. People called me a "wildfire" - wildfires never burn out and are rekindled by the spring breeze.
But no one knows that my original wish was just for my brother to study hard and become a clean person.
