TYFBT

Chapter 18 - Raphael (End)

Two years from that, he went to the brothel where he had grown up. The streets were still there. He remembered an idea that he once had as a child.

'When I become a noble, I won't live like that.'

Thinking about it now, that was pretty funny.

He wanted to transform this street into a space full of happiness and dreams. However, it was impossible.

One day, he had expressed the opinion that they should invest in streets of prostitutes or underdeveloped villages. They then replied with a laugh, 'If there is light, there must also be darkness, so that won't do.'

It was a terribly disgusting reason, Raphael said to himself.

He put on his hoodie and went to the store. He didn't have good feelings for the women who raised him. Having had such a childish thought that he wanted revenge on those who treated him as much, still, he was in the past.

"Welcome."

He followed the waitress who greeted him to the room where the women were waiting.

It was not yet an active time, though the room was full of women. They seduced him, who was in fine clothes, with a playful smile.

Raphael glanced at the women with cold eyes.

There were no women he knew. There was no woman who gave birth to him and raised him. He was taken aback for a moment before grabbing the employee and shaking him.

"Where did the woman with the silver hair and brown eyes go?"

He recounted the appearance of the one who gave birth to him. There were so many women who died so often that the waitress could not remember the woman he was talking about. Raphael thought about the woman's age. Though he did not know her age.

There it was.

When he wandered the streets without saying a word, when he disappeared silently and put blood on his hands and set up the Emperor. When he received the title of Raphael and was being beaten by the noble society, the woman died...

Raphael felt something cut off.

He never thought for a moment that he wanted to be successful and did good to the woman because he thought that only those who work hard could be happy. Nonetheless, he thought of the past years he had passed.

The child did not expect his mother's love, but remembered her indifference to him. The cold meat side dish was the only affection he could fully feel.

It was twisted. Where he was desperate to survive, a meat side dish was once the only reason he lived.

Although it was embarrassing to even call it motherhood or love, for a child who was in need of a piece of love, it was enough of a reason for living. There was no place to express his anger, no place for his achievements to be recognized, and his past had disappeared.

His past, as he stumbled upon it, was gone. He disappeared, as no one knew of his past.

It was unbearably sad that the past when he cried and struggled, and the achievements of him crawling upwards had become a fictional story that only he now knew.

He took drugs he had never done since he lived in the Imperial Palace. He enjoyed colors he had never seen before. He held this woman and that woman without hesitation. People on the street looked up to him. They respected him very much. In bed, everyone acknowledged Raphael, and whispered pleasant words that he was cool and the best.

That temporarily filled the emptiness inside. He didn't even know what he was wandering this street for.

* * *
What was the reason he was standing here, soaked in blood and losing his humanity? He couldn't change anything.