He lived in a city that was not particularly prosperous. By day, crowds swarmed through the streets, each person striving toward some distant goal. At night, they cast off their burdens and wandered with friends through brightly lit streets lined with bars and nightclubs. Everything seemed so natural. Yet in those quiet, shadowy alleys stood a solitary figure, facing the street and gazing with melancholy at the restless sea of people. His heart seemed knotted with sorrow. He turned to look ahead. At the end of the alley, a menacing, mysterious black fog seemed to merge with the brilliant night sky. It appeared that this was the only road that belonged to him. He wandered forward without aim, head bowed, taking slow steps. Compared with those walking with their arms around each other's shoulders, his figure seemed lonely and forlorn. He did not want to look up or meet anyone's eyes, because everything he had been through had made him the coward he was now. This person was...
