"Come, children. Lift your heads, look."
The stall owner, wearing a pure white smiling mask, wrapped his arms around the shoulders of the two children, uttering a voice as deep as the abyss, "Take one last look at your father.
"This is the man who brought you here... who bet you at the gambling table and lost you to us. He's also the coward who broke the rules—leaving you behind and running away himself."
Hearing this, the little girl instantly cried even louder.
And the boy's eyes also reddened slightly.
But still, he stubbornly kept his head up, trying hard to gaze at the middle-aged fat man who had been dragged along and had now fallen into unconsciousness—or perhaps, had been dead for some time.
As if to etch his image into his own memory.
"So, the usual rules. Children,"
the stall owner uttered in a low voice, speaking slowly and deliberately, "Once you've seen enough, send him on his way."
