Chapter 72
In the slums, there’s no distinction between people and the sewer rats wandering the streets.
On foggy days, they would puff on cigarettes until the smoke became even thicker, drink more alcohol than water, and the only remaining shred of humanity was covering roadside corpses with tattered cloth. Other than that, their lives were no different from that of a rat.
When crumbs fell, they would snatch them up quickly, scratching and biting any other rat that came near until it retreated.
A life where being underestimated meant starving to death, and being overly defiant meant dying. It was hard to tell if it was a rat’s life or a human’s.
Starting from such a life, Hetherson became an executive known as the ‘Shadow Sentinel’ in the slums.
Despite this, he found himself in a heart-pounding situation over a mere prank.
‘What is this guy?’
To become a big shot in the slums, you had to go through all sorts of trials and tribulations.
You had to meet all kinds of people, and naturally, your ability to read their minds improved.