A couple walks down the street. Alongside the handsome couple is their son. They seem happy and well-dressed, wearing the finest fabrics of the time—clothing fit for high-ranking nobles.
— Son, what would you like for dinner?
— I want a hamburger!
The mother and her son chat as they walk, appearing like a truly happy and united family. But from a dark alley on that same street, a child sits behind a bakery, seemingly being scolded by the shop's owner.
— You little bastard, trying to steal food—even from my trash?! Do that again and I'll have you arrested!
The child wears rags made from the cheapest and most poorly-made fabrics—clothes typically worn by people from the slums.
— I'm sorry, sir… I'm sorry!
The child is Lume, the future assassin, now only nine years old. He kneels before the furious man, humiliating himself in front of the arrogant baker.
— I beg you… please let me take some food from your trash, even if it's garbage!
Lume didn't act this way for nothing. Somehow, the boy could sense the exact feelings of the bakery owner, as if he were a machine that could read minds.
"Arrogance… and dominance."
The man, in turn, began to feel like some kind of "king" of the highest court—even if it meant crushing the dignity of a poor child begging for scraps.
— Fine, kid. Take the trash food. But I never want to see your face again, got it?!
He said this with a smug, arrogant smile, utterly despising the child. Lume, on the other hand, accepted it with a big grin on his face, happily picking food from the trash bin and putting it in a bag the baker gave him.
— Boss, don't you think you're being a bit too cruel over some garbage?
One of the employees dared to say something—but she was quickly silenced by an older coworker, who looked scared that she had even spoken up. Defying that man was clearly a bad idea.
— T-thank you very much for the food!
Lume said, bowing again before leaving the bakery, carrying the bag of "trash" to his home with a cheerful look on his face for having something to eat. Everyone inside the bakery silently went back to what they were doing, pretending as if nothing had happened—except for the woman who watched it all with guilt in her eyes.
Twenty minutes later, the young Lume arrived home, visibly tired from the walk.
— Mom, I'm home!
He shouted with excitement and joy—feelings that were quickly wiped away by the sound that followed.
— You filthy whore!
It was the voice of his father, coming out of the bedroom he shared with Lume's mother. The man reeked of alcohol, with a patchy beard stained with bar food. The child froze in fear as his father approached, staring into the eyes of the towering drunk man.
— What the hell are you staring at, you little shit?!
The drunk man screamed, grabbing the boy's blonde hair tightly and kneeing him hard in the stomach, making Lume cough up a large amount of blood.
— You're both garbage! I'm going to the bar—better than being here with you two!
The filthy man stormed out of the house, leaving the boy collapsed on the ground. The bag of "food" he had carried spilled across the floor.
"Why does this have to happen?"
The young boy wondered, still coughing up blood. A few seconds later, his mother entered the room. She was a beautiful woman, with graceful curves, golden hair, and bright blue eyes.
— Son!
She cried out and rushed to him, trying to ease his pain. Lume looked at her through blurred vision, his father's blow still fresh. Once again, he used his unique ability to sense people's emotions—diving deeper into it now, almost as if he could hear them like music. The melody he sensed from his mother was pure, sweet, and comforting.
"These feelings… are love and happiness…"
This thought brought Lume a deep sense of calm. Of all the people he had ever met, only his mother radiated such pure and joyful emotions.
— Thank you, Mommy…
He smiled—a child's innocent smile. His mother hugged him tightly, relieved he was "okay."
— I'm so glad you're okay, Lume!
Her words warmed the boy's heart. He loved her deeply, although he still wondered about the marks on her body. Since he was little, his mother had always said they were from her "work," never revealing that her real job was prostitution.
— Mom, I brought food!
Lume exclaimed as he picked up the spilled food from the ground. Even though it came from a trash bin, he cherished it. His mother took a half-eaten, moldy piece of bread from the bag and began eating it.
— Thank you for the food, sweetheart!
She said this in a sweet, angelic tone. They both started eating the poor-quality food together. But while eating, Lume couldn't stop thinking about one thing.
— Mommy, why do you protect me so much?
He asked this because it seemed like everyone hated him—even his own father.
— Well… it's because you are my hope for a life with someone I love.
She spoke softly, serenely, in a voice so gentle it could soothe any soul. Lume's heart filled with joy. His mother truly loved him—that much was clear.
— Mom, why do you love me?
Their conversation continued, filled with the innocent questions of a child who had endured too much. Meanwhile, at a bar in town, the filthy drunk was finishing his third bottle of pure cachaça.
— Good thing that bitch had money. I can drink all night!
As he spoke, another drunk at the bar took notice.
— Bitch? What bitch?
The man asked, coughing between his words. He smoked heavily—around twenty cigarettes a day.
— My wife. Some blonde slut. Always shows up with money from God-knows-where. I don't care—I just took it. She tried to stop me, so I beat the shit out of her!
Lume's father bragged and laughed, feeling like a king of the bar.
— That description… sounds like a prostitute who works at a brothel nearby.
When the other man said this, Lume's father looked at him in shock, pale-faced. He quickly pulled a photo of his wife from his shirt pocket.
— Was the prostitute her, you drunk bastard?!
They both stared at the picture in silence, the man analyzing it closely. Eventually, he nodded.
— That's her. I've even been with her myself.
That sentence filled Lume's father with rage—until he exploded in fury.
— I'm going to kill that whore!