"A few bad apples shouldn't stop us from helping those we can," Matt said, glancing at Aoki. "Anyway, I'll head up first."
"Sure, be careful, Matt," Aoki replied.
As we stepped into the elevator, I couldn't help but ask, "What did he mean by that? Do you often save people off the street?"
"You're not the first, and you won't be the last," Matt replied, adjusting his tie.
"I pass through that area often. It's a place where homeless people usually stay, but occasionally, someone like you—a stray cat—shows up."
I rolled my eyes at his words. "What do you mean by 'stray cat'?"
"Someone who doesn't belong in the slums. People who've had their lives turned upside down by circumstances beyond their control."
"How do you know that happened to me?"
"It's not hard to guess," Matt said, shrugging.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but despite everything, the shirt you're wearing isn't cheap.
It may look plain, but I recognize the brand—Loro Piana. And it's a custom-made piece.
I won't ask why or what happened to you, though. If you want to share, feel free to do so."
I lowered my gaze, staring at the floor. "And what do you expect to get from helping me?
If you're after my body, I'll tell you now—I'm disfigured."
Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You're not the first to ask me that. Heck, even a guy once asked if I was gay or had ulterior motives.
But I get it; the world is the way it is.
Genuine kindness is rare—like finding a needle in a haystack. You don't stumble upon it easily."
He paused, then continued, "Don't overthink it, Lucia. I help people because I help myself.
Once, I was in a situation like yours—maybe it was worse, maybe not—but that's beside the point.
By some stroke of luck, a couple found me.
They took me in and cared for me like their own son. When I was finally on my own feet, I offered to take care of them, but they just laughed and told me that if I really felt grateful, I should help others in the same situation."
"What a lovely couple, Where are they now?"
Matt went silent for a moment, and I immediately regretted asking. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"They're still alive, but I don't know where they are now. It's funny—I lived with them for years, and I don't even have their phone number."
"What? How could that happen?"
"I never needed it. They were always home when I was there, but they loved traveling around the world.
I'm sure they're off somewhere, helping others like us."
"What a mysterious couple," I mused.
"You're not wrong," Matt said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "At the time, it didn't seem strange to me, but now I realize how mysterious they were.
Neither of them worked, yet they always had money for whatever they wanted. And they didn't live frugally—they just did as they pleased.
They also had connections. They got me into Milano University without needing to take an exam—and for a medical course, no less."
My eyes widened in surprise. That was the most prestigious university in the country.
Only the best of the best could get in, and the medical program was the most renowned. Even my family couldn't bribe their way into getting me enrolled; they had tried and failed.
But this also made me skeptical.
If Matt was telling the truth, why was he living like this? Any doctor from that university could land a high-paying job anywhere and live in luxury.
"You think I'm lying, don't you?" Matt asked, "Well, it doesn't matter. Believe what you want."
"It's not that," I replied quickly. "I just find it strange that you're living like this if you're a doctor."
Then it hit me—Matt had said he used to be a doctor. For a doctor from Milano University to quit, something big must have happened.
We arrived at Matt's apartment, and as we entered, I couldn't help but notice how simple everything was. There was no TV, just a couch.
The living room was directly connected to the kitchen, and there was no dining table in sight.
"Wait here," Matt said, gently placing me on the couch before disappearing into another room.
I used the time to glance around the walls, hoping to find a photo or something that might give me a glimpse into his life. But there was nothing—just a picture of Matt at his college graduation and another frame displaying his degree certificate.
'Laurea cum Laude,' I read. 'He wasn't kidding. So how did he end up living like this? Did he mess with some powerful family? In this city, that wouldn't be surprising.'
Matt returned with a box of medical tools and began unwrapping the worn-out bandages on my hand.
My heart pounded loudly in my chest, both curious and fearful of how he'd react to my wounds.
When he finally revealed the burn wound underneath, I braced myself for a reaction of disgust, but Matt's expression didn't change at all.
He simply continued his work, making me feel both relieved and disappointed.
'What am I even thinking? There's no way he'd be attracted to me. Or maybe because He's a doctor—he's probably seen worse.'
Matt unwrapped the bandages until he reached my shirt sleeve. "I'm sorry, but I'll need you to take off your shirt to continue the treatment. If you're uncomfortable with that, I can call one of my nurse friends."
His words caught me off guard, and to my surprise, it wasn't the idea of taking off my shirt that bothered me—it was the mention of a nurse friend that made me feel strangely annoyed.
That growing sense of familiarity with Matt intensified.
I felt like I was with an old friend, someone who had been part of my life for a long time.
"I don't mind," I said quietly. "But can you help me?"