Why have I become like this?
Eh?
Sigh
Am I not a genius?
Shouldn't I be sitting in a luxury car, laughing at these homeless people for not working hard?
On the street, Walt wandered aimlessly, his eyes hollow and lost, not knowing where he should go.
His mind was full of past memories of bright lights and lavish partying....
Maybe he should dismantle his regulator and trade his clothes for some boosters...
"Sir...sir!"
A hand waved in front of Walt twice before he realized it was a tall Mexican who had stopped him.
At first, Walt was a bit annoyed, how did someone of such low status stop...
The slight anger that rose in his heart dissipated; he had seen street gangs kill people more than once, and this time, he might become a victim.
Given his current status, no one would even collect his body if he died.
Walt asked, somewhat defensively,
"What do you want? To laugh at me? Or do you want these clothes?"
"No, no, no."
