Asher walked home, following the familiar path he had taken countless times before.

Accustomed to being alone, he deliberately distanced himself from others. It wasn't a lack of charisma; instead, it was a conscious choice to avoid forming connections.

He was the kind of guy who preferred to keep to himself and avoid bothering others. So, the question lingered like a puzzle: why did he choose to become a bully?

For money.

The only reason he bullied that boy was because he was paid to do it. He didn't bother to understand the underlying reasons or care about the boy's circumstances.

He simply assumed that James motive behind tormenting that poor kid was merely to fulfill his own sadistic desires.

Would the boy's fate change if he didn't take the job? Probably not.

If not him, another bully would step in, so the weak would always be picked on. He was nothing more than a replaceable hired hand, aware that he could be swapped out at any time.

As he continued his walked along the roadside, his attention was drawn to a scene unfolding before him.

A young man was assisting an elderly woman in crossing the street, offering a helping hand with a genuine look of concern.

The act of kindness was evident and visible for everyone to see.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

However, despite the heartwarming scene, Asher's deep-rooted trust issues resurfaced. He found himself questioning the motives behind such kindness, wondering if there was more to it than met the eye.

Due to the trauma he experienced as a child, he developed a mental barrier that hindered his ability to trust others.

In his mind, he believed that every act of kindness came with a hidden agenda. He saw the world as a place where everything had a trade-off, where no person could be genuinely kind without having ulterior motives.

This mindset had become deeply ingrained within him, shaping his interactions and perceptions of others.

With a shake of his head, he closed his eyes and deliberately turned his attention away from the scene before him. He chose to ignore it, refusing to let it consume any more of his time or emotions.

'Shit, I forgot that I need to buy some fruits,' he clicked his tongue in annoyance, realizing that he had already passed the marketplace.

He reluctantly acknowledged that he would need to walk back to fulfill his errand.

As he retraced his steps, making his way back towards the marketplace, he noticed the elderly woman he had seen earlier.

However, this time her face was etched with anguish, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Her trembling voice filled the air, pleading for help.

"Help, a kid stole my wallet! I need that money to buy my medicine," she cried out, desperation lacing her words.

But, as he expected, everyone around seemed to ignore her distress. They continued on with their own affairs, oblivious or indifferent to her.

As he passed by the crying elderly woman, he felt no pity for her.

In his mind, what had happened to her was something he had already anticipated, reinforcing his belief that trusting others too easily always leads to betrayal.

'It's your fault for being so trusting,' he muttered to himself, casting blame on the woman for her vulnerability.

With a bored expression, he continued on his way, his cynicism solidifying his resolve to remain detached from the world around him.

'I can only trust myself and no one else,' he muttered, clenching his fist tightly. The belief in self-reliance and the need to rely solely on his own ability became more deeply ingrained in his mindset.