His luck was terrible.
As a child, his biological mother sold him to Korea. The traffickers passed him on to an upscale club, and as he grew older, more and more people flocked to him. It would have been one thing if they were women, but the club only catered to male clients with status and power.
He was indifferent to everything, with a sensual air that mingled languidness and bewitching tenderness.
He had served many clients, and his body had gone numb. Though they all said he was born to be a seducer, he knew he still liked women.
The day before his twentieth birthday, he finally bought his freedom.
Though the money he had earned at the club was enough to let him live comfortably for the rest of his life, he still took a job at a modest company,
trying hard to live a normal life.
They treated him well. Even after learning about his past, they didn't mind what he had done for work, nor did they pity him.
It wasn't that they didn't understand compassion.
They understood it all too well, and used gentleness and time to mend his shattered wounds.
