That night, in a ruthless city somewhere in Kalimantan — a city that never slept — the rain fell like the tears of a grieving sky.
The stench of sewage, used cooking oil, and damp cigarette smoke blended into a scent so unique, it always reminded Rei Ardan, nineteen years old, of his place in the food chain of this concrete jungle.
Rei walked slowly along the cracked pavement, heading back to his resting place — a shabby apartment complex mockingly called "The Duck Coop" by its residents.
His white shirt was soaked and wrinkled, worn after a long midnight shift at a small coffee shop.
Minimum wage — barely enough to live on.
The wet fabric clung coldly to his back, his sneakers squelched with every step, and the sound echoed with quiet humiliation.
For as long as he could remember, the world had taught him a cruel truth —
Hard work is just a myth the rich tell the poor, to keep them busy.
Without money, effort means nothing.
In the end, the system was designed to crush people like him.
His parents — kind, hardworking fools — had died in a multi-car accident caused by a drunk young man behind the wheel.
That man turned out to be the son of a powerful conglomerate.
The case was closed in a single night.
The so-called "compensation" they received was barely enough to pay rent for two months.
From that day on, Rei understood —
Money was the law.
And he was just a dog beneath it.
He wiped the rain from his face — a tired face that still held traces of quiet handsomeness.
Though exhaustion weighed on him, the fire in his eyes hadn't gone out.
He still had willpower, steel-like resolve.
But in this world, such things were just wall decorations — worthless without wealth.
As he passed by a small roadside stall, a shrill voice pierced the rain.
"Look, it's that orphan again! Always coming home late, and still broke as hell!"
Rei didn't look back.
He was used to it.
Since childhood, he had been an easy target — mocked at school for his tattered uniform, a hand-me-down from his late parents.
Even as an adult, he was treated like a servant — invisible, disposable.
But the hardest blow had come just a week ago: Sarah.
His girlfriend.
The girl he had given everything for.
He skipped meals just to buy her gifts.
Every smile she gave him was worth every sacrifice.
That illusion ended the night she asked to meet.
At first, Rei had been happy — it was rare for Sarah to ask him out.
"Rei, you're kind. You're smart," she said softly, avoiding his eyes.
"But kindness can't buy me anything. I asked for a handbag, and it took you a whole week to save for it."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
In the end, it meant one thing — you're poor.
Rei stood frozen, silent.
"...So that's it?" he whispered.
"I'm sorry, Rei," Sarah said, her tone heavy with fake regret.
"I can't wait for you to succeed. We're done."
Fake tears streamed down her face as she climbed into a sleek black Mercedes-Benz S-Class — owned by a middle-aged man with a bloated belly and a wallet even fatter.
Rei didn't chase her.
He couldn't move.
He just stood there, drenched in rain and disbelief.
"So this is what my love is worth…" he murmured.
"All my sacrifices — for nothing."
The memory burned him alive.
It wasn't just love he lost that day.
It was dignity.
He had given everything — and been discarded like trash.
"If I had power… if I had money… would any of this have happened?" he muttered bitterly.
"Being good isn't enough."
He exhaled, a faint white mist escaping his lips in the cold rain.
The streetlights flickered. Most had died months ago, and no one cared to fix them.
Rei took a deep breath, staring down the road that led to The Duck Coop —
a road as dark, slippery, and dangerous as life itself.
He kept walking, his thoughts drifting to dreams that now felt impossible —
scholarships, a stable job, a trace of respect.
"I won't give up," he whispered.
"I won't be a victim forever. I'll fight."
Then —
VRROOOOMMM!
A roar tore through the rain — not the hum of an engine, but the snarl of a predator.
A black SUV, its chrome glinting under the streetlights, shot toward him at deadly speed.
The driver — distracted by a phone, or maybe drunk — didn't even notice the boy crossing the road.
Rei's instincts screamed, but it was too late.
"This world really isn't fair…" he thought.
And that was the last thing that crossed his mind before the impact.