Chapter 41: Charcoal, What Happened to You?
With no relevant animal protection laws, relying on only moral criticism would by no ans quell the public wrath. This decade was nothing like ten years later, this kind of little things could be imdiately ** or recorded and posted online.
Nevertheless, even if they could get more people's attention and to chastise, it was still not enough to punish the abuser.
What could condemnation do? And what was the use of moral bondage?
Could it resurrect the three kittens, or give the mother cat an equitable treatnt?
It couldn't; the tattooed man didnt even need to pay fines. Moral criticism to him was like gas excretion, dispersed when the wind blew at it.
"Why does it matter if I throw my cats! Mind your own business. Are you all tired of living and want to die?!" The tattooed man pointed at the murmuring crowd around him and bellowed.
It was evident that his actions of hitting people made the nearby crowd hesitant. It wasn't as noisy as before, and those that dare to co out and condemn him were all knocked down.
A body of muscle and tattoo, plus such manners. He clearly wasn't a philanthropist. There might even be human life endangered.
"Piss off. What are you all doing, blocking the front of my house? Are you looking for a beating?"
The tattooed man pushed through the crowd as the mob began to disperse.
A few elderly won groaned words like "sinful
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