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墨書 Inktalez
Leo's vision gradually became blurry, and he felt his consciousness slipping away. In this moment of powerlessness and despair, he silently apologized to Mike in his heart, regretting that he couldn't even protect the precious gift his friend had left for him. His heart was filled with immense self-blame and pain.
Just then, a dignified and authoritative male voice suddenly came from the end of the alley, full of irresistible momentum: "Hey! You punks! That's enough!" With the appearance of this voice, the thugs' violent behavior instantly stopped, and they all turned to look.
Standing at the entrance of the alley is a middle-aged man with a sturdy build, wearing a combat vest. His face carries a certain seriousness and judgment, and his eyes are as sharp as an eagle's. Behind him, there is a man and two women, all emitting an undeniable presence. The four of them stand there like an invisible barrier, exuding an undeniable sense of oppression.
The thugs are clearly shocked by this sudden turn of events, exchanging bewildered and frightened looks, unsure of what to do. Their taunting and mocking gradually fade, replaced by a sense of unease and fear.
Leo lay weakly on the ground, although his vision was blurry, he could still feel the presence of the group of people who had suddenly appeared. He tried to lift his head to get a clear look at these unexpected saviors, but could only vaguely see their outlines. In his heart, besides gratitude, there was more confusion and uncertainty about the future.
The thugs exchanged quick glances with each other, their eyes revealing a hint of fear and hesitation. They turned their gaze once again to the middle-aged man and his companion standing at the alley entrance. In this oppressive environment, they appeared particularly uneasy.
Finally, the leader of the thugs made a decision. They threw the empty cardboard box and the black platter projector heavily at Leo lying on the ground. The cardboard box and the projector arched through the air and with a dull thud, landed next to Leo, emitting the sound of plastic colliding.
Under the cold, threatening stare of the middle-aged man, the thugs did not linger. One by one, they hurriedly left the alley, seeming eager to escape the confrontation. Their figures quickly disappeared into the depths of the dark alley, leaving behind a silence.
Leo curled up on the ground, feeling the weight of the cardboard box and projector pressing down on him, but he didn't have the strength to move them. His body was in great pain, and his mind was under immense pressure. In this chaos and despair, he felt an unprecedented sense of powerlessness and loneliness.
A middle-aged man stopped at the entrance of the alley, his gaze piercing through the dim night, focusing on Leo on the ground. His facial features appeared resolute under the dim streetlight, with a subtle glint of concern in his eyes. He spoke in a low and steady voice, "Hey, are you okay?" Leo lifted his head, his gaze blurry as he looked at the stranger. There was no emotion on his face, only a hint of stubbornness and weariness. His hand lifted slightly, barely raising his middle finger, as if silently protesting against the whole world.
The middle-aged man saw this scene and a trace of elusive smile appeared on his face. He turned around, ready to leave this scene filled with sadness. At this moment, the woman beside him, with an uneasy tone, asked, "Hey, Captain, can it really be like this?" Her gaze fell on the fallen Leo, her eyes filled with pity and doubt.
The middle-aged man responded casually, continuing to walk forward, "Ha! That guy is very strong, just a minor injury." His steps were firm, his voice carrying an indescribable confidence. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the empty alley, eventually fading away in the distant darkness.
Leo, who remained on the ground, was consumed by the intertwining pain in his body and the torment of his soul, creating an indescribable bitterness. His weary eyes gazed at the night sky, and the faint glow of the streetlight seemed to illuminate his lonely figure, as if in this dark corner, he was the only forgotten existence in the world. The surrounding silence was like an invisible curtain, isolating him from the world. Leo's heart was filled with confusion about the future and resentment about the past, but at this moment, he was powerless to change anything. His heart was filled with countless question marks and despair, only able to silently bear the weight of reality in this darkness.
In the dim alley, Leo slowly climbed up from the ground, his body in extreme pain from the repeated beatings. Every cough seemed to tear his chest, and every breath felt like a struggle for the last bit of air. His fingers trembled, barely supporting his exhausted body, leaning against the damp, cold, and dirty wall. As he gasped for breath, he swallowed the bitterness in his throat, his eyes scanning weakly around, finally resting on the empty cardboard box.
In the cardboard box, his gaze fell upon the small black platter - the final memento Mike had left for him. He slowly reached out with trembling hands and carefully picked up the projector. His fingers lightly glided over the icy metal surface, feeling its solidity. Despite the disappointment and despair surrounding him, this small platter brought him a sense of connection to the past.
The projector's cold touch sharply contrasted with his inner feelings. This weighty relic in the palm of his hand was the only link left, connecting him to the camaraderie with his former comrades and his past self. In this moment, Leo felt a slight sense of peace in his soul, despite his body and mind being utterly exhausted. In this merciless world, this small projector became a sanctuary for his soul.
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