Back in his apartment, sitting on the ground, hugging his knees close to chest, Nathaniel was staring at De Villiers’ corpse with tears glistening on his cheeks for the past two hours.

In his black shirt with three buttons opened, an uneven collar, roughly rolled sleeves, scattered hair, in an absolutely messing state.

“Hey… still not going to wake up?” He called painfully, poking him a little, receiving no response in return.

He spent his entire life with him, he was the only permanent part of his life.

And watching him lie there lifeless had overwhelmed him.

“Not you too, my brother,”

Whispering weakly, his eyes stopped at Amanda who...