A few minutes later, Tristan walked out of city hall.

When his eyes swept across the road lights, he seemed to see his teenage self from twenty years ago, who was lanky, with stubborn eyes and a heart full of hatred and struggle.

At that time, he was fresh out of the hospital. When he uncovered the gauze on his mother’s face in the inn bathroom, he collapsed. He took a knife and wanted to fight those people who did this.

His mother cried and held him tightly to stop him. She grabbed a fruit knife and pointed it to her chest to force him to give up the thought....