Lua jumped in through the window again, with the boy in his arms. This boy who wanted to die desperately, who seemingly had no hope for the future, was resting in his arms. He was not dead, in fact. They had refrained from such a vile act.
Although he wouldn't admit it, he felt bad for the boy. He had obviously been abused at every corner, and it had caused him to give up his will to live. Perhaps if they hadn't intervened, he may have gone insane. It made him wonder how many more were like this.
He placed the boy on the couch, treating his wounds as best as he could. He was not a physician, and the best he could do was bring him wet cloth. And due to his injuries being not fatal, this was enough. Lua had initially handled him with care.
The major problem was that he was recovering more slowly than usual. Lua attributed this to his lack of a will to live, his body assuming he was dead already. Lua was hoping they could restore it when he came to be.
