About

I was, so to speak, a guy who lived by his body. I picked pockets to survive, and I couldn't even remember my parents' faces. I learned how to protect myself before I even learned how to speak properly. I wasn't stupid, but because I was uneducated, people called me a fool. Then one day, my luck ran out. Of all things, I laid hands on goods belonging to a merchant group owned by the mafia boss who controlled the city. I was beaten half to death. Even as I coughed up blood and crawled on the floor, the kicking didn't stop. Just as I closed my eyes, thinking this was the end... "...Stop." A low, calm voice rang out. Someone caught my collapsing body and held me. What remained in my fading consciousness wasn't a face or a voice. It was the faint scent of soap. That scent, at least, I could never forget. Warm meals. A plush bed. A bathroom where I could wash every day and clean clothes. To me, all of it felt like a dream. Here, I was praised for being good at fighting. That person would stroke my hair and tell me I did well. I loved that one sentence so much that I fought even harder. I learned how to read, how to use manners, and how to live like a human being. Bit by bit, I became a dog tamed by his hand. And before I knew it... I had become the mafia boss's most favored dog, and his most trusted person.