Chapter 2/Shelter Boy

Author: Charcoal Grilled Rice Mushroom

Chapter 2 Shelter Boy

"Cripple! Lame! Die lame!"

"There's no water for you to drink here!"

"Go to hell! Damn you cripple!"

Cheorwon Shelter, ten floors underground, structural floor.

In front of the crowded water room, a group of children, with an average age of only five or six years old, were yelling and throwing broken tiles at a teenage black-haired boy.

The black-haired boy who was besieged by them was also wearing the same style of singlet and old cloak, but he was slightly older and thinner.

As the children scolded him, the black-haired boy had a somewhat disabled left foot. He was holding a long wooden stick more than one meter long in his left hand, and an old and cracked ceramic kettle in his right hand.

Faced with the siege of children, the young man silently lifted up his cloak and protected the kettle in his arms, as if he was protecting the most precious thing, and as if he was waiting for someone to speak up and stop this boring farce.

Finally, after about four or five minutes, a middle-aged woman in her forties or fifties pushed aside the onlookers of the shelter residents and squeezed in angrily.

The moment she saw the little ghosts, her eyes widened in surprise, then she waved her arms and roared loudly:

"You little beasts! Have you had enough trouble?! Didn't I tell you? Don't disturb the order of the water room!!"

Her voice was like thunder, causing everyone in the water room to cover their ears.

And the little ghosts also shouted and dispersed:

"Run! It's the fat old woman Aunt Wang!"

The woman called "Aunt Wang" by the kiddies angrily watched them disappear into the crowd, then turned around, looked at the messy black-haired boy, and continued to yell:

"Why is it you again?!!! Where are the other people in your family? Where are your adoptive mother Hera and sister Hena?! And that little brat Hedda! She's almost six years old, right?! Why are you a lame person here anyway?

Fetch water?!"

The woman's roar caused the dust on the ceiling to collapse, and even a small piece of the tile on the wall burst off.

But the young man did not offer any excuse. He just smiled softly and lowered his head to explain:

"Sorry, Aunt Wang... Hera - my mother is sick, and Hera has to go to school today, so I have to come."

The young man's head was so low that he couldn't clearly see the expression on his face. The shelter residents around him also looked at all this as a matter of course, with no intention of trying to defend him.

The woman looked at him with disgust. She thought for a moment, then turned around and shouted:

"Come here! I'll finish your 'water quota' first! Lest those brats come back and beat you up again! Get out of here immediately after getting water! Don't come here again next time!"

"Thank you Aunt Wang! Thank you!"

The young man didn't pay attention to the ridicule from the woman's mouth, but limped along and followed her.

As he made his way through the crowd, some of the Vault residents gave him disgusted looks.

But the young man didn't seem to notice this. With a smile on his face that was either hypocritical or insensitive, he followed the woman to the water tank at the front of the queue and put the kettle in his hand and a small sign with "one liter" written on it.

The wood chip was handed to her.

"Aunt Wang, this is my 'water quota' for today."

The young man whispered.

The middle-aged woman did not speak. As the "water provider" of the shelter, she turned on the water connection valve with a cold face and let the dirty, turbid circulating water with a faint smell of rust flow into the kettle.

When the turbid water in the kettle was just halfway full, she turned off the faucet.

The woman put the kettle back into the boy's arms and waved her hands in disgust:

"Okay! Let Hena come over next time! Or that brat Heda! I don't want to see your face again! After being beaten for so long, don't you have a better memory?!"

The young man did not speak, but silently said "thank you" to the woman, then limped and disappeared into the crowd.

The woman looked at his back, was stunned for a moment, and then thought with some confusion:

"Although he is a little loser, he is quite polite..."

Then he came back to his senses amidst the urging of others:

"Urgent! Urgent! Are you urging me to die?! Don't do it! Hand over the water card! Get out of here as soon as you get the water!"

From the center of the crowd, another woman's angry shouting and cursing could be heard.

.

The boy was holding a kettle and wandering down the dilapidated corridor.

The smile on his face has disappeared, his eyes are staring at the shelter residents around him warily, and he is constantly recalling his experiences in the past three years in his heart——

Three years have passed since the young man came back from the dead.

In the past three years, he has completely erased the innocence he had during time travel, and has completely understood what kind of world he is in now.

It may be a bit excessive to describe it as "the weak and the strong", but compared to the real "the weak and the strong", it is only a thin line away.

In this shelter that has been in operation for who knows how many years, there are countless dilapidated cameras of unknown quality.

Under these "randomly active" cameras, it is almost impossible for other shelter residents to kill someone for the "half jug of water" in his hand, but the possibility of beating him up and then taking it away is not low.

For those who are dying of thirst, the so-called "order" in the shelter means nothing at all.

Because they are penniless and cannot compensate for anything, "they" are not afraid of any "punishment" at all.

They would snatch the kettle away, drink it completely in front of the boy, and then threaten him to destroy the kettle and other valuables in his house if he sought help from the "guards"

broken.

As early as a year ago, a "neighbor" next to the boy was forced to "go to the edge" by such a "shelter scoundrel".

Yes, "desperate".

For the residents of the shelter on the "Tenth Floor", things like "kettles" can already be regarded as "precious items" that have been passed down from generation to generation.

Although the situation in the boy's family is slightly better than that of others.

But that's only "slightly better".

So if possible, he still wants to avoid these risks——

Get home as safely as possible.

"I'm back."

The young man lowered his head and got into his old, patched tent.

He was lucky today and did not encounter any danger along the way.

The moment he heard his voice, a red-haired boy in the tent who was only five or six years old stood up, looked at him happily, and said:

"Brother Jiatu! Welcome home!"

With an innocent smile on his face, the boy faced the young man.

The young man also smiled and handed the kettle into the little boy's hand, and rubbed the little boy's soft crimson curly hair vigorously.

Compared to when he was fetching water, anyone could see that he was really smiling at this moment.

"Oh, our Heda is so much cuter than the kids outside."

The young man knelt down and pinched the cheek of his younger brother. Then he was distracted by the sound of coughing deep in the tent.

"Ahem...Jiatu...are you back? When you were outside...were you bullied?"

Dark brown quilts were spread on the floor deep in the tent.

And on the only thing in the tent that could be called a "bed" lay a pale red-haired woman.

Her long hair was like fire, but it was so dull and yellow that no luster could be seen.

She coughed hard, but raised her upper body with her elbows and looked at the door - obviously concerned about the boy's experience when fetching water.

"I told you not to go to the water room...but you still went..."

The woman frowned and asked softly.

The boy didn't show any timidity when facing the kid, but when he saw the woman, he showed a trace of obvious worry. He limped to the bedside, pressed the woman's shoulders, and asked her to lie back.

On to the quilt.

"I'm fine..." the young man said softly.

He touched the woman's rough pale palms and comforted her in a low voice: "You are very ill this time, so don't talk... Hena will borrow some 'medicine' from the training school in the evening... There are other things to do."

You can have a good rest while Heda and I are here..."

"But 'medicine'... how can 'medicine' be so easy to borrow..."

The red-haired woman followed the boy's movements and lay back on the bed, but subconsciously reached out her hand and touched the wound at the corner of the boy's eye. Her weak eyes were full of confusion:

"If I could have gotten the 'medicine'...your left foot would be fine..."

"What's the matter!"
To be continued...