I want to kill my faith.
Even I will rot in a dark alley waiting for death.
The seventh year after she left, we reunited, but unfortunately, I was killing people.
She didn't show the vulnerability or disgust she expected, but handed me a cigarette as I approached her.
Even though her fingers were still trembling, the way she pretended to be calm was really cute, so I put away the gun, reached out and took her back to my home.
Intention: The initial good intentions should not turn evil in the end.