In a gloomy and dark alley, a disheveled man was inching closer toward a corner of the lane.
He held a small handgun in his hands.
The gun had been given to him not long ago by a "kind-hearted person" wearing a chubby baby mask.
He originally intended to sell the gun for money, but the "kind-hearted person" reminded him that he could use the gun to "make money."
Indeed, he could use the gun to turn others' money into his own.
But he still hesitated in his heart.
Over the past few days, he had finished all his food and hadn't managed to get any money.
He knew he needed to take risks.
If he kept starving like this, he would become just like many of the vagrants he had seen, a corpse lying on the side of the road.
He gripped the handle of the gun firmly, peering out little by little, looking toward the street outside the alley.
