"Hit him! Beat him to death!"
"Damn it, daring to scrounge food from my turf, sick of living, aren't you?"
"Boss, it looks like we really killed him?"
"He's dead just like that?"
In the dimly-lit alleyway, five little beggars in tattered clothes stopped their group beating and stepped back from the boy they were surrounding, each holding iron rods and wooden sticks.
They all appeared to be under ten years old, but their dirt-stained faces were filled with viciousness as they cornered a boy against the wall.
The tallest of the beggars gave the boy another kick and spat.
"Looking for death, let's go."
The five little beggars picked up the hard bread from the ground and quickly disappeared at the end of the alley.
The alley returned to silence, a gray-skinned rat scurried past an overturned trash can, looking up at the sky—a veil of gray haze—as a drizzle began to fall.
Seeing this, it squeaked and scurried back to a small hole in the corner of the wall, vanishing from sight.
