cat forced to be villain

"Catch him, don't let him get away!"

In the messy slum, there was a sudden cry.

A ragged, disheveled little boy ran forward quickly, and behind him was a group of punks with weapons.

There were many people on the road, but none of them stood up for the little boy. Instead, they protected their belongings and avoided them, for fear of being accidentally affected.

The slums believe in the law of the jungle. This kind of thing happens every day. If you are lucky, you can escape successfully. If you are unlucky, you will be beaten. If you are too unlucky, you may be beaten to death.

The little boy was lucky today, the gangsters chased him into the alley, and after turning around, he disappeared.

They searched for a while and were sure they had chased him away, so they cursed bad luck, then kicked over the trash can next to it, turned and left.

Almost half an hour later, there was a rustling sound from the dumped trash can, and then the little boy crawled out of it.

After confirming that the gangsters had given up on catching him, he breathed a sigh of relief, and then walked out against the wall.

He was already dressed in shabby clothes, dirty, and smelly because he had just come out of the trash can.

Passers-by gave way one after another, for fear of being accidentally bumped by him.

The little boy was used to being treated like this, so he just lowered his head and walked forward in silence, and finally stopped at home—behind the dilapidated broken wall, in front of a small box made of wooden boards and cardboard boxes that he could only curl up into. Only then did the tensed body relax.

The little boy took out the expired bread found in the trash can from his arms, broke off a small piece and put it in front of the small wooden sign next to the small box, "Mom, I'm back."

He sat next to the small wooden sign, chewing the bread with special care.

This piece of bread is actually very small, even so, he only ate half of it, and then wrapped the rest and hid it in the haystack, making sure it was very secret and would not be found, so he was relieved.

After finishing this, he took out a tattered magazine and started today's study, and practiced calligraphy stroke by stroke on the ground with a small wooden stick.

When the little boy's mother was alive, although life was very difficult, she often went hungry and full, and could barely survive from starvation.

But at that time, my mother helped others with the work, and at least the family still had income, so they could rent a dilapidated small house.

Even if the summer is very hot and the winter is very cold, wind leaks in many places, and water leaks in rainy days, at least there is a shelter.

After his mother died of illness, the little boy was kicked out by the landlord, and the little money he had was confiscated.

If the local government hadn't been worried that too many dead bodies in the slums would cause cholera, and would regularly send people over to clean up the cremation, maybe the little boy could just find a random place to bury him.

As the sky was getting dark, the little boy practiced calligraphy for a while, until he couldn't read the words clearly, and then stood up slowly on his knees.

But his physical condition was very bad, the bread just now had been digested, so his eyes went dark, and he almost fell to the ground.

The little boy supported his knees for a while, and when his body recovered a little, he staggered towards the small box.

He said good night to his mother's tablet as usual, then curled up in the cardboard box and closed his eyes.

After falling asleep, the little boy once again dreamed of his mother dying, crying and saying sorry to him, holding his hand and telling him to live a good life.

The next morning, the little boy was awakened by the moisture of the dew.

He got up and washed as usual, ate a third of the bread, drank a lot of water to suppress his hunger, and then walked towards the garbage dump.

The little boy was lucky enough to find a broken watch, and he should be able to charge a little money for the scrap.

He quietly hid the watch in his clothes, intending to leave quietly, but he was still watched by someone with a heart.

This time the little boy failed to escape, the hooligans surrounded him, the boss hit the steel rod on the palm of his hand, and smiled very ferociously, "Boy, you can run quite well, have you been caught by us this time?"

The little boy's eyes were full of vigilance, his body was pressed against the wall tightly, and his voice was very calm, "I'll give you something, let me go."

"Okay." The boss stretched out his hand and looked at him for a long time.

The little boy knew that according to the boss' temperament, even if he handed over his watch, he would not escape a severe beating today.

But right now there is no other choice but to bow his head.

He took a deep breath, took out his watch, and walked towards the boss step by step, but the moment he put it in the boss's palm, he threw it out forcefully!

The gangsters were stunned by this turn of events, and subconsciously looked at their watches.

The little boy seized this opportunity, nimbly got out from the boss, and then started to run for his life!

The gangsters reacted and quickly chased after him.

Seeing that he was about to escape, the little boy accidentally bumped into a passerby and fell heavily to the ground.

Before he got up, he was surrounded by people again.

The boss was in a bad mood because of the disturbance just now, in order to get back the scene, he directly broke the little boy's legs.

The severe pain hit, and the little boy passed out from the pain.

When he woke up again, it was already dark, and the cold wind blew past, making him shiver unconsciously.

The sharp pain in his knee made his face pale. Looking at the dark night sky, the little boy felt that life was hopeless.

But thinking of his mother's entrustment before she died, he still gritted his teeth and crawled back to the residence with difficulty by relying on his hands.

The little boy had no money for medical treatment, and since then he has been crawling on his hands to find some leftovers in a nearby trash can, barely surviving.

To make matters worse, the wound festered and the temperature dropped in autumn, and he had a fever.

Once again, no food was found, and the little boy was dizzy with hunger, but it happened to be raining heavily.

The wound was soaked in the sewage, and there were bursts of pain. The little boy fell to the ground exhausted, and hot tears fell from his eyes, mixing with the rain.

I'm sorry, Mom, I really can't hold on anymore...

He was giving up on himself when he suddenly heard footsteps.

The little boy thought he was passing by, so he didn't pay much attention to it. After all, he looked so embarrassed that no one would think it was profitable to see him.

Unexpectedly, the man stopped in front of him.

Looking at the pair of exquisitely crafted black short boots in front of him, the little boy's heart skipped a beat, and he subconsciously took out a "weapon" polished from a small wooden stick from his arms.

He raised his head vigilantly, but met a pair of purely curious eyes without any malice.

The other party was a boy of about thirteen or fourteen years old, wearing an exquisite double-breasted black trench coat and black harem pants, giving off a sinister and dangerous look.

If it weren't for the fact that the other party was holding an umbrella instead of a scythe, the little boy would have thought that the other party was the god of death who harvested life, or the devil who brought people to hell.

The little boy kept his face sullen and didn't say a word, just staring at the boy like that.

He thought the young man would leave after watching enough, but the other party suddenly squatted down and asked with a smile, "Hey, kid, do you want to hang out with me?"