The air was thick with the sll of greasy smoke mingling with the stench of rotting garbage, as if it had co to a standstill.
A few hoodlums leant against the wall, each with a cigarette in hand, the blinding lights from their motorcycles aid straight at the window of a bungalow.
Soone inside cursed a few tis, then upon sticking their head out and seeing the gang, there was no further noise. They locked the window and drew the curtains in one fluid motion.
The hoodlums laughed smugly, tossing out a few more curses.
Footsteps approached from the distance; the gang mbers exchanged glances, thinking their "protection fee" business of the day was about to start.
A few seconds later, a figure appeared around the corner.
A tall silhouette, with a stern face.
The hoodlums who had been bravado just monts before, ready to pounce with bricks in hand, turned and ran without a mont’s hesitation. One of them tried to start his motorcycle but couldn’t; forgoing both his ride and his pride, he took the keys and fled.
Arnold Simmons kicked aside the bricks obstructing his path, indifferent to the gang that had just fled, as well as the people hidden in the corners trembling, not sparing them a second glance.
It was only after he had walked far away that the hoodlums dared to return.
"Wasn’t it said that this grim reaper had left? How has he co back?"
"Our guys definitely saw him being picked up by soone; heard his dad found him, and he went off to study nicely and be a student."
A man smacked the head of the person next to him, "Damn it, are you blind? ’Study’ my ass. If he’s studying, why would he co back here? You almost got killed!"
The other person was just as innocent, "Could it be that he was driven out again?"
The group walked off into the distance.
No matter why Arnold Simmons ca back today, they didn’t dare to hang around this area for the ti being.
Arnold Simmons didn’t always live in the northern part of the city. The locals only knew he lived with an old man who picked trash; those years of life were especially miserable for him.
Latterly the old man died, leaving him all alone until the Simmons Family ca knocking.
Everyone thought he’d lead a better life from then on, but it seed that was not the case.
The light ca back on in the old house, it wasn’t very bright but enough to illuminate this small space.
The room was empty, the furnishings simple, and there weren’t many appliances in use. Even the TV on the table in the corner was an old model, with no antenna connected, able to receive only a few channels.
At this ti, the TV was broadcasting black and white movies.
Arnold Simmons took a quick shower, found clean clothes in the wardrobe to change into, and then on his bed, he took out the book he had borrowed today from his school bag.
On the desk beside him stood an entire row of books, both extracurricular books and textbooks, with an exercise book spread open on the desk.
His handwriting was neat, with clear lines of thought in his answers.
Many certificates were pasted on the wall, mostly old and yellowing, with so of the inscriptions starting to blur. However, the handwritten "Arnold Simmons" remained clearly visible.
Certificates ranged from the first grade to junior high, with the "Triple Good Student" awards never absent for each year.
But all this ca to an abrupt halt in high school, which was also when the Simmons Family found Arnold Simmons.
In the eyes of so who knew the situation, Arnold was able to attend Haicheng First Middle School only because of the Simmons Family’s influence. Few people knew how exceptional the forr Arnold was.
Or perhaps it’s for the best that they didn’t know.
Not far outside the window, a train roared past; the ground shook and the cup on the table trembled continuously.
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