Three years ago.
The sun slowly set.
God was stingy with his light, as he refused to extend his shining glory for another moment.
A black-haired boy stood behind the railings of the moat, using a simple stick in his hand to pick at the trash below.
Occasionally, there would be something to gain from the sewers, like a silk handkerchief that someone carelessly dropped into the water, or something of the same sort. After these things were cleaned, despite being soaked in the sewers, they could still be sold to people at the general store for a hefty sum of money. At least, a hefty sum to the boy at this time.
The sound of footsteps resounded from afar, which alerted Darr.
It was already late, night would soon fall, and a large number of entities with nothing resembling good will would soon emerge.
