A Wish to Grab Happiness

"Whatever Fialert is, Wood, you don't have to thank me. That would be the kind of contract."

I say, as much as I can, there's no such thing as intertwining such a tune in my voice.

I know the air is a good place too, but I want to give this much attention to someone with a sinking look on their face. If that expression is due to the gentleness of Wood's sexual roots, it's extra.

……

I could see Cereal pulling his brother's hem silently. The expression is also somewhere painful.

Yes, why me and Fialert are accompanying this sibling and her life in the slums. That's nothing, it's not because they're crests, or because they're acquaintances of Largd-Ann. Not that they admire me.

It's a relationship between me and them on top of the contract.

I offered them support supplies from Largdo-Ann, and protection for their brothers and sisters, and they served as a buffer to convince me to settle in the slums and the surroundings, that kind of contract.

It is extremely troublesome to deal with slum dwellers with these medium- and long-term contracts.

Because if they get what they need, it doesn't matter what happens after that. The nature of this is well known in experience. So, there's no problem with the exchange of information, but like this one, I really choose people for the role of connector with the crests.

"I don't care. It's not normal, Rugis' brother. No. Even with the contract, Olea, you don't know very well... how could you risk your life?"

In that regard, Wood and Cereal, they were fit.

Because they had some expectation, while clearly in need of protection. In slums where it is the greatest code to live on your own, it is truly unusual.

Wood, my brother, was a brave man. Lost his parents, and while there was none he could count on, he brought up Cereal with his giant. He is a man with sexual roots that never bend a screw, even in the inferior soil of a slum.

Cereal stared at the brother with a sense of vision. I can tell that from what I normally do. Even now, that doesn't change.

There is no need for protection. There shouldn't have been.

Until Wood became a central presence among the youth of the slums because of his giant, and thus caught sight of the Guard Corps, half dead with his sister protected.

"It's fine. I have a way of doing things. That's all someone can put in a spear. Come on."

My fingers accidentally look for the chewing cigarette and push it away at the soot. Don't let the boulders hurt you more than once, even though you're not a masochist.

assault on slum dwellers.

That's one of the routines in the Guard Corps. Even in the slums, it is no exaggeration to say that it is in the extension of the landscape that residents can be hurt by guards.

I don't even keep the legal issues in my chest, I just make the slum dwellers obnoxious for my own sake. Because such a person naturally exists.

……

Cereal lay down his eyes and stroked the old horn in his hand.

Yes, everything must be everyday. Except for Wood and Cereal. Then their routine changed dramatically. The guards took Wood's bravery, and Cereal's voice. Now Wood can't even get close to every fight, and the horn in her hand is the voice that leads to Cereal.

Whatever, irrationally, whatever, equally, still continues the daily routine of the world.

I don't like people in the world who pay attention to what happened to this brother and sister. Even if their daily routine is taken at the whim of the devil and treated like a meal, the daily tea ceremony, the world flat out, passes. How wonderful.

This is what the cathedral preaches about the equality of the soul. It makes me feel unnecessarily hungry.

"Well, that's not what I care about. This is how we get good offices in our homes."

Fialert tells me to send out a help ship.

I thought I'd finally come out of the moonlight shadow, the neighborhood under its eyes. Plus, it's a little swollen. Apparently, he didn't want to see how it went. Woman's heart, is that what it is? It looks like you should do something you didn't see on the boulder.

Like preaching things to Wood and Cereal, Fialert inherited the word.

"Rather, Rugis is something that gets hurt even if left alone. Isn't it just a loss to be sick?

Don't tell me this guy can do whatever he wants because people can't lay around and move.

With a slight hiccups on his cheeks, he did not speak if it was also a comfort to Wood and Cereal.

By and large, there is no way you can answer even if you ask me why I put my life at risk. No, you can't possibly say that.

There is so much to thank and cheer the party members except me for the fold of the once-saving journey that even now I can't fit in to remember that only you brothers and sisters have shown me respect. And I can't believe it was one salvation.

Slightly, my eyelids are getting heavy. After all, the injured body seems to be in need of rest. I open my mouth when I see a calm fold in the story of the fialert.

"But I'm in this state for a while. Don't go out with the cereal lady. God will also tell you to stay at rest if you just work like this -"

"- No, actually, it's not"

The voice seemed sorry for the boulder. Where the voice came from, the door side that was left open. There was one shadow.

Lighted by the moonlight, little by little the outline of the shadow becomes dewy. There's a Largud-Ann figure carrying a big barrel on that little body and a grin somewhere to draw attention.

You're lying, and I see your lips moved silently.

There's only one thing that makes her come here. In other words:

"There is more to it than Mattia the Virgin...... on a full moon night, that is, today, the first flame will raise its voice,"

It means bringing disaster.