“Fuck, I did it again,” he muttered, tossing the tissue into the trash can at the far end of his apartment bathroom and washing away the stains on his hands.

  His eyes focused on the mirror attached to the wall in front of his face.

  The mirror reflected the face of a white man who is almost 30.

  His eye bags looked dark, as if there were shadows appearing on his cheeks.

  His blond hair was messy, uncombed, like a bird's nest in a tree branch near his apartment.

  "Can't I just stop doing this? But I need this to keep my mind clear," he said.

  Then, he quickly washed his face and wiped it with his towel, which was already looking dirty.

  He walked from the bathroom on the left side of her apartment to the living room, which also served as his bedroom in the cramped apartment.

  The room was a mess, with trash scattered everywhere, floors and carpets that hadn't been cleaned in months, and dirty clothes piled up in the corner of the room.

  A wooden desk stood against the wall to the right of the bathroom door. On it was an old computer set with a monitor connected to a CPU and keyboard.

  The CPU was placed in the bottom right drawer of the desk, which was designed to fit a computer like that. Black and red lines covered the compact design of the CPU's outer casing.

  A keyboard lay on the desk at a slight angle from the desktop.

  Some of the letters on the keyboard had started to lose their color, but the user didn't seem to care too much about that, considering that he had been using the keyboard for years.

  He knew the position of every letter on the keyboard by heart—he even knew which letters he had to press harder to type because the device was old and problematic. He knew that item like the back of his hand.

  Behind the keyboard stood a medium-sized monitor—probably around 16 to 17 inches with a fairly simple but innovative design for its time, offering a slimmer design than most computers, 15 years ago.

  Then, at the end of the room—parallel to the desk—was a portable space heater with its cord unplugged from the nearby electrical outlet.

  Codd threw his dirty towel onto the heater, hoping the residual heat from the machine would dry his damp towel.

  Meanwhile, on the left wall—parallel to the bathroom—a plain white mattress lay in the far corner of the room on the floor next to the wall—along with a light blue pillow and a blanket with a random pattern of white and dark blue stripes on top.

  The mattress looked like it had started to yellow—perhaps because it had been a long time since the man had bought it.

  That man’s gaze was fixed on the mattress as his feet moved forward, following the direction of his eyes. On top of his mattress lay an adult magazine, open to a page showing a photo of a sexy, half-naked woman.

  "Damn book, I spent almost all of my remaining money to buy it, but I got nothing."

  The man picked up the book and threw it at the computer on his desk.

  Realizing that he had just thrown the book at his computer, his expression quickly changed to one of concern.

  He immediately approached his computer to check if any part of it had been damaged by the collision with the book.

  His hands felt around the monitor screen, checking for cracks. Once he was fairly certain that there were no scratches on the screen, his attention shifted to the CPU next to his right foot.

  As his index finger reached out and pressed the power button on top of the machine, his heart still seemed unsettled, waiting for his 2006 computer to turn on

  Luckily, the CPU fan near his feet began to spin—displaying the "Rey-Techs" computer logo in white letters on a red background on the desktop screen.

  There was also an animation of a spinning white line with the word "loading" underneath it.

  The man breathed a sigh of relief and was grateful that his computer was still 'alive'.

  Even though it was an old model, it was one of the most valuable possessions he had at the moment.

  As soon as the animation finished, the man was greeted by his desktop wallpaper, which turned out to be the green logo of "Sol.Com" – the large company where he worked – at least until about four months ago

  Less than three seconds later, several notifications appeared at the bottom left of the screen. These were replies from the companies he had applied to work for.

  The man then clicked and checked the replies one by one.

  Apparently, the replies contained notifications of rejection of his job applications from the companies.

  "We appreciate your efforts to apply for a job at our company. Unfortunately, your skills are not quite suitable for the job specifications we have set."

  That was more or less the content of the messages.

  Reading the messages, the man bowed his head. His already red eyes began to water again.

  This time, his face contorted like a sick person being forced to take medicine that tasted like rat poison.

  His job application had been rejected again.

  He had lost count of how many times he had sent job applications to many companies.

  However, no company wanted to accept him, or at least give him the opportunity to attend a job interview.

  "One more reason to hope that God will take my life soon. I'm tired of all this shits," muttered the man, sobbing.

  Suddenly, he stood up from his chair—his gaze blank.

  He then walked and faced the wall to the right of his desk, then paused for a moment.

  Suddenly, his face contorted in anger.

  His eyebrows raised, his teeth gritted, his eyes stared at the wall as if it were something or perhaps someone who had ruined his life.

  Unexpectedly, he slammed his head against the wall.

  The wall shook, and the impact made a loud noise.

  He slammed his head against the wall repeatedly—until blood came out of his nose.

  He continued to slam his head against the wall—hoping for something good to come from his actions, or perhaps he was just trying to blame himself for everything.

  He continued to hurt himself like this for a while, and then he stopped.

  He stood still again in front of the wall with a blank stare.

  He looked like he was thinking, or maybe imagining something, or maybe something was entering him.

  The loneliness lasted for almost a minute until suddenly, his stomach growled—his stomach acid rose.

  The man vomited on the magenta carpet in his living room.

  "Uweerrrrrrrrghhhhh... Damn it. Not on the carpet!" he muttered as he held the digestive fluid in his throat.

  It felt hot and bitter, so much so that he almost wanted to vomit again.

  He suddenly remembered that he hadn't eaten anything substantial since yesterday to fill his rumbling stomach.

  He glanced at the window in the living room. Apparently, it was already nighttime.

  The wind began to blow through the half-open window.

  The hustle and bustle of the city, which he hadn't heard before, began to break into his ears.

  The clock on the living room wall showed that it was already 9:23 p.m.

  "I have to go out and buy some food. Maybe walking will calm my mind," he thought.

  He walked to the bathroom and then returned to his magenta carpet in the living room, which was covered in vomit.

  He cleaned the red carpet of the remains of his lunch from three days ago with whatever tools and cleaning products he had, leaving stains on the carpet, which was already dirty before it was flooded with vomit.

  The worn rag he had used to soak up the vomit was thrown on the bathroom floor, then rinsed for a minute along with the other tools he had used for cleaning.

  He rubbed the rag on the floor while flooding it with tap water and cheap liquid soap from his bathroom cabinet.

  When he felt it was enough, he turned off the tap and wrung out the rag so it wouldn't be too wet after being "washed."

  Once dry, he placed the rag on her bathroom window, covering the half-open window.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  After that, he quickly walked to the living room to pick up his worn jacket lying on the floor and grabbed his old hat hanging on the door handle leading outside the apartment.

  Then, he turned the door handle to leave that stuffy place.

  Outside his apartment, there was a slightly unpleasant smell, but it was better than staying too long in his suffocating apartment.

  Naturally, the apartment was located in a fairly run-down urban area.

  The area was known for its high poverty and crime rates, although sometimes the reality was not quite as bad as that.

  People's negative views of the eastern part of Cranham City were indeed exaggerated.

  It was not like they lived in the southeast of the city.

  As soon as he breathed in the outside air, his eyes fell on a crumpled piece of paper lying on the floor.

  He quickly picked it up and read it silently.

  To Mr. Codd Daffron,

  This is the THIRD time I have warned you this month, and this will be the last time I remind you that YOU ARE THREE MONTHS BEHIND ON YOUR APARTMENT RENT!!!

  Keep this up and I WILL FORCEFULLY REMOVE YOUR BELONGINGS from my apartment IF NECESSARY.

  From the start, I’ve made it clear that this place is NOT AN ORPHANAGE or A CHARITY ORGANIZATION

  So, PAY THE RENT if you still want to stay in MY PROPERTY!

  From Mrs. Monroe

  THE ONLY person who was still willing to rent you a place to live.

  After reading the unpleasant letter, his face remained expressionless.

  Without showing any emotion, he crumpled the paper and put it in his pants pocket.

  Then, the man named Codd locked the door to his small apartment, put the key in the right pocket of his jacket, and walked from the second-floor hallway of the building down the stairs at the end of the building.

  From the ground floor, he could see several strangers in the apartment courtyard, most likely homeless people who had found a place to rest there.

  Not wanting to interact with strangers, he immediately left the place.

  Codd walked through the bustle of the city, passing many shops, apartments, and commercial buildings that crowded every corner of the city.

  He kept walking and passed people who seemed busy with their own affairs.

  The journey led him to a department store called “Rodmax Store.”

  He walked across the large parking lot. There weren't many cars parked there at that time.

  He continued walking until his feet stepped on a big mat that read "Welcome," then opened the door and stepped into the store.

  Codd took a small notebook out of his pocket. A small pen was tucked into the cover of the little book.

  He opened the middle of the book and looked for the last page he had written on.

  That page contained a shopping list he had written a few days ago.

  - 1 loaf of Wheatlady white bread

  - 3 bottles of Brownett whiskey

  - 1 carton of Rodell Farm eggs

  - 1 bottle of Dulrich olive oil

  - 1 pack of Savora instant coffee (small size)

  - 3 cans of Farmani canned lima beans

  - 2 cans of Farmani canned corn

  - 2 cans of Seanor canned sardines

  - 2 cans of Cookway canned beef soup

  - 2 packs of Chezzers cheese biscuits

  - 3 packs of Nusa Brand instant noodles

  - 1 can of Cookway canned tomato soup

  - several cans of Starbear energy drinks

  - 2 packs of Molly kitchen towels

  - 1 pack of SkinC bar soap

  That's roughly what the shopping list contained. Some items had been crossed out for some reason, either because he felt he didn't need them or because he didn't have enough money to buy them.

  Whatever his reasons, Codd picked up an empty shopping basket near the entrance and walked toward the food aisle.

  The place was quite large for a simple department store.

  Large shelves were arranged in rows, forming aisles, each containing products of a certain category, leaving a large aisle in the middle of the room as the main path for customers to see which aisle they wanted to enter to pick up items.

  That night, the store seemed fairly empty of customers.

  The large aisle in the middle of the store, with no one walking through it, gave off a strange yet comfortable feeling.

  Only a few aisles had people who were also shopping at that late hour. Well, not many people wanted to spend their precious sleep time buying household necessities, except for those who had no free time except at night, or whose lives were chaotic—like Codd.

  Codd passed through several aisles before finally reaching the processed food and beverage aisle.

  There, there were so many food and beverage products from various brands neatly arranged on the shelves.

  There were so many brands, from that Codd spent an hour and a half choosing which brands he would buy at that time.

  Fortunately, Codd had learned from that time-consuming experience by writing down the brands he wanted to buy beforehand on his shopping list.

  His hand reached for several cans of sardines, tomato soup, several packs of instant noodles, and several other foods listed on his shopping list.

  Slowly, his shopping cart began to feel heavy. Feeling that he had put enough food items in his cart, Codd walked towards the cleaning and personal care products aisle.

  There, he picked up a bar of soap and two packs of paper towels.

  As his hand was about to put the last pack of paper towels into his basket, an unknown man bumped into him from behind, causing him and his shopping basket to fall, spilling some of the items he had picked up earlier. Several items on the shelf also fell and scattered on the floor as Codd fell

  The collision was hard enough that Codd's head hit the floor, causing him pain and dizziness for a few moments.

  He then got up and immediately turned around to look at and yell at the man. "What the hell, man?! What's your problem, asshole? Can't you see—," Codd yelled at the man, then immediately fell silent when he realized who had bumped into him and was now staring back at him.

  The man was white and looked younger than Codd, around 20 years old.

  He was wearing a worn shirt with many bloodstains, covered by a blue jacket that looked quite dirty from the dirt.

  There were several cuts and bruises on parts of his body, which appeared to be recent.

  His face showed fear and anxiety, his eyes red like someone who hadn't slept for days.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I was in a hurry and crashed into you. If I may ask, where am I now?" asked the young man.

  "Oh, well, as you can see, we're in the personal care and hygiene aisle," Codd replied spontaneously, still shocked by the young man's condition.

  "No, sir, I mean, where am I right now?" the young man asked again.

  "Hahahaha, come on. What kind of silly question is that?” said Codd.

  The stranger just stood there staring at Codd, only silence filling the hallway.

  Codd gave up trying to joke around and told the man a precise answer, “Well, anyway, we’re at Rodmax Store on Fordes Street, east of New Cranham City, Cranner County, Canta State.”

  “Alright. Thank you, sir,” said the young man.

  He just stood there, the silence filling the hallway once more.

  As time passed, more and more questions arose in Codd's mind about the young man.

  Finally, Codd plucked up the courage to ask, "By the way, how did you get those wounds and bloodstains, son? Did you just go hunting wild animals or something?"

  "Oh, y-yes. Haha, that's right. I was just hunting... wild deer. Yes, wild deer. I managed to shoot the deer with my hunting rifle. But it suddenly attacked me when I approached it, thinking it was dead. I ended up like this, plus I got lost because my GPS suddenly broke. That's why I was looking for someone else to ask," replied the young man.

  "It seems like this guy is lying. But, well, sometimes the truth is more ridiculous than fiction. Anyway, there happens to be a large forest to the south of the right side of this supermarket parking lot. So I think his explanation makes sense," Codd thought to himself as he replied, "Ah, okay. So that's why you asked that question earlier."

  The atmosphere was silent again. Codd didn't want to ask the young man any more questions—the situation was already strange enough.

  Perhaps he also didn't want to find out more about things he shouldn't ask about.

  In any case, Codd tried to break the silence and help the young man who seemed lost by showing him the way out of the supermarket. "Oh, yes. By the way, the exit is that way." Codd pointed in the direction of the exit on the east side of the building, but when he turned back to where the young man had been standing, he found no one there.

  The young man was no longer there. Codd was a little surprised, but he tried not to make a big deal out of it. "Sometimes, things do happen in unusual ways. But still, he was a pretty strange young man," Codd muttered.

  Codd picked up the items scattered on the floor, put his groceries that had fallen earlier back into the basket he was holding, then put the rest of the scattered items back in their proper places.

  Well, at least Codd cared about tidiness when it came to things that weren't his.

  While putting scattered items on the floor, Codd's eyes stopped on a bottle of pills lying on the floor.

  It appeared to be a vitamin C supplement. The packaging bore the brand name "Vit-Citrus" and a note indicating that it was a free sample for promotional purposes.

  "Huh, there's quite a lot in it for a sample product. But, well, free stuff is still free stuff. I shouldn't complain about it," Codd muttered as he put the pill bottle in his jacket pocket and tidied up the rest of the items.

  He continued on his way to the cashier.

  When he got there, Codd walked to the only active cash register left. Apparently, it didn't have a line.

  He met a black female cashier who was also almost in her 30s standing there.

  The name "Michelle" was written on the name tag attached to her shirt pocket.

  Judging from her face, she also looked quite tired from still working late at night.

  Knowing this, Codd quickly took all his groceries out of the basket to be scanned, making the woman's job easier.

  The cashier sighed, then took and scanned his groceries one by one. It was obvious that she really didn't like her job.

  "So, how was your day?" Codd tried to talk to her.

  "Sir, I'm not paid enough to talk to you, but my day wasn't very good, thank you for asking," replied the woman.

  Her hands put the scanned items one by one into a white plastic bag with the "Rodmax Store" logo.

  Hearing her curt reply, Codd suddenly felt awkward.

  So, he immediately changed the subject to a more straightforward topic, "All right. So, how much do I owe you?"

  "Your total purchase is $30.25. Would you like to pay by credit or cash, sir?" replied the woman after pressing a few buttons on the cash register.

  "Cash, please. Here's the money," said Codd as he handed the cashier the money from his wallet.

  The woman took it and put it into the cash register, while pressing a few buttons on the machine.

  "Oh, yes. I'm curious. Have you guys been giving out free product samples lately?" Codd suddenly asked the cashier.

  The cashier replied while carefully processing Codd's payment, "Well, we haven't been giving out any product samples for several months. Why do you ask?"

  The cashier took the change from the cash register and handed it to Codd.

  Codd took the money and said, "Well, I'm just curious. Maybe I could get some free stuff if you did something like that."

  Codd didn't want to say a word about the sample product he had taken from the aisle. He didn't want to lose the free items.

  "Oh boy, look at that numbnut attitude you be havin' right now. Asking around ‘bout some free stuff like we're doing charity every day. Get a load of your dumbass looking face outta here before I put this knuckle of mine deep into your back, boy," the cashier mocked humorously in her mixed southern accent.

  Codd replied, "Hahaha. I'm just joking with you. Thank you, kind lady—"

  BANG.

  Before he could finish thanking her, a gunshot rang out from the inner hallway.

  They both fell silent for a moment.

  Someone inside the building had just fired a gun.

  Codd muttered to himself, "What the hell was that—"

  BANG BANG BANG.

  Several more shots were heard from the hallway.

  "Sir, I suggest you leave this place immediately. It's not safe here," said the cashier to Codd with a worried look on her face.

  "We will call the authorities to deal with the problem here. Therefore, please leave this place for your own safety," she continued.

  Codd turned to the cashier. "Then what about you?" he asked. The woman replied, "Don't worry about me. I'm just trying not to get fired from this stupid job."

  "Come on, what kind of crazy person would prioritize their job over their life? You should come with me outside—at least it's safer than staying in here," Codd criticized in that terrifying situation.

  The woman stubbornly replied, "Screw that. Do you even know how hard it is to find a good job in this city? I have to stay here not because I want to, but because this supermarket is my job—my life."

  Codd fell silent. For a moment, he truly felt the woman's plight.

  "Well, before that crazy guy with a gun comes here to shoot us all, you better grab your groceries and get the hell out of this godforsaken place," he continued.

  Codd nodded. He then picked up all his plastic-wrapped groceries and left through the exit in front of him.

  As Codd stepped outside, more shots rang out from inside the building.

  He looked back for a moment before finally walking back to the sidewalk, passing the same large parking lot he had passed when he arrived.

  The sound of police sirens could be heard approaching from a distance.

  It seemed that help had been called to deal with the situation inside.

  Codd immediately quickened his pace. He didn't want to get dragged into any trouble, especially with the police.

  Finally, he managed to get out before the place was filled with police and other people he definitely didn't want to meet.