Chapter 1

December 3rd, Overcast.

When I opened my eyes, it was already past ten in the morning. Without even pulling back the curtains, I knew the sky outside was overcast. The damp air had seeped into the room, the bed, and even my bones.

I had two choices: either make myself a cup of coffee or close my eyes and hope that when I opened them again, it would be December 4th.

In the end, I got up.

Today, like any other day, I sat in the store, praying that no one would come to this dilapidated place.

An overcast afternoon is like the few minutes before a child gets a shot or the seconds before a monster appears in a horror movie.

You know something bad is going to happen, but you can never predict when the first raindrop will fall.

Thanks to the weather, the hours passed quickly, and by four o'clock, not a single customer had come in.

For me, this was a delightful time. I could sit behind the desk, quietly read a book, and drink coffee without any interruptions.

At half past four, someone pushed the door open. Well, I hated him.

But he did bring a bit of surprise, because he wasn't there to buy books; he was there to rob the place.

As this guy pulled out a gun and walked toward me, I really wanted to complain to him. After all, disposing of bodies has become increasingly difficult lately, and people keep forcing me into these situations, which is very inconvenient.

I calculated that pulling out his teeth, shaving off his hair, and sawing him into six pieces would take about half an hour. Driving him to Bob's pig farm would take another hour, and by the time I got back, I'd have to clean up the blood and debris, leaving no time to prepare dinner.

So I raised my hands, put on a frightened expression, and told him in a trembling voice that all the money was in the drawer, and he should spare my life.

I thought I played it convincingly, with perfect eye contact, tone, and body language. He should have taken the money and left, allowing me to continue enjoying my peaceful time.

But when he reached for the drawer, I suddenly remembered that I no longer had any form of currency...

When he opened the drawer, he saw half a pizza I had left over and half a rat that had been partially eaten by some unknown creature. He got angry, swore, and pressed the gun to my head, glaring at me and asking if I thought it was fun to play with him.

Afraid he might accidentally fire the gun, I had no choice but to shove the entire gun down his esophagus.

As he thrashed on the ground, I realized—Philadelphia's security is terrible, and I need to move.

Nowadays, there are so many guys with broken guns trying to make "quick money." After wandering around, he ended up in this run-down bookstore. I seriously doubt the intelligence of such people. Common sense dictates that if you plan to rob a small to medium-sized store, you should target the food and beverage industry or convenience stores first; second, ticket offices, clothing, and electronics stores; and the worst choice would be furniture, antiques, and bookstores.

Do people these days not even have the time to estimate daily revenue and risk factors? Why bother robbing a store? Just break into a house; there's bound to be some cash inside.

Oh, of course, cash isn't very meaningful right now. Robbing homeless people on the subway would be better than coming here.

After a few seconds, he seemed to be going into shock but was still struggling to crawl toward the door.

I walked in front of him, closed the door, flipped the "open" sign to "closed," and pulled down the roller shutter on the display window. When I turned around, he was crawling at my feet. To be safe, I broke both of his elbows.

Finally, I could return to my comfortable armchair, take a sip of coffee, pick up my book, and continue my pleasant time.

I estimated that in his current condition, he wouldn't be able to stand up. Even if he managed to prop himself up, he wouldn't be able to turn the large doorknob with his mouth. He should be dead in about half an hour, and his body would block the door perfectly.

Overall, it was still a hateful day. Even at the end, I couldn't quite figure out the relationship between me, the rat, the pizza, and the unknown creature, and their positions in the food chain.

Well... never mind, that doesn't matter either.