The young man hurried back home and shut the door before taking a long breath.
He had almost gotten himself into big trouble again. He really couldn't understand why Felix never stopped pestering him.
Sighing, he dropped onto his bed. It wasn't that he refused to sit on a chair—there wasn't any space. No, this place wasn't even considered a "room." It was just a shabby wooden shack that leaked every time a storm came. Fortunately, he lived on the edge of Zone 6, right next to Zone 5—where it never rained.
Even the toilet here had to be shared. His quality of life was abysmal. Around his shack were countless others, forming a wasteland more pitiful than a slum.
Sitting on the bed, he bit into a chunk of chocolate, venting his frustration, his cheek bulging slightly.
