From the very beginning, we are introduced to a boy running out of time.
His legs burn as he pedals his bicycle through the crowded streets, breath uneven, heart pounding wildly in his chest. Panic clings to his face like sweat.
He isn't being chased by people.
He's being chased by poverty.
He finally skids to a stop in front of a small restaurant. Before he can even catch his breath, the owner storms out, eyes sharp with irritation.
"You're already thirty minutes late today," the man snaps. "Take the food packets and hurry up. Get the delivery done."
The boy says nothing. He lowers his head, takes the packets, climbs back onto his bicycle, and rides off as fast as his trembling legs allow.
At the entrance of a narrow alley, everything goes wrong.
A dog suddenly bursts out—clutching a piece of raw meat in its mouth.
Behind it, a meat shop owner charges forward, face twisted with rage.
"That damn dog again!" he shouts. "Stop right there! Today, I'll finish you!"
The dog sprints blindly toward the alley's exit—and crashes straight into the boy.
The impact is violent.
The bicycle overturns. The food packets fly from his hands—some hit the muddy ground, others burst open, splattering food across the bodies of the boy and the furious meat seller.
Silence hangs for half a second.
Then hell breaks loose.
The man's anger explodes.
"You blind idiot!"
Punches rain down. Kicks follow. Pain erupts everywhere at once. The boy curls up instinctively, trying to protect his head, but it doesn't stop.
By the time the man walks away, muttering curses, the boy can barely feel his body.
Rain begins to fall.
Cold drops soak his bruised skin as he lies motionless on the road, breath shallow, vision blurred.
After a long while, his eyes slowly open.
The first thing he sees is the dog—licking his face gently.
He struggles to sit up, chest feeling unbearably heavy.
And then, memories flood back.
That morning, his mother had collapsed again.
Blood had poured from her nose and mouth as her body went limp in his arms.
This wasn't new.
It happened often.
He had rushed her to the nearby hospital, only to be met with a cold voice at the reception desk.
"Without the estimated amount deposited," the woman said flatly, "we cannot admit the patient."
That was why he worked endlessly.
Food delivery during the day.
A part-time job at a store at night.
Today, he had been late because he was taking care of his mother.
And now—every single food packet was ruined.
His hands tremble.
His vision blurs.
Still, he forces himself to stand.
I'll apologize, he tells himself.
I'll beg if I have to.
Back at the restaurant, he bows deeply. He pays the full price for the ruined food—money he couldn't afford to lose.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "Please… forgive me."
The owner takes the money without a word.
Then, calmly, he says,
"Don't come from tomorrow."
The boy freezes.
He pleads. Again and again.
He talks about his sick mother. About how this job is his only support.
The owner listens with an empty expression.
Suddenly, he kicks the boy hard in the stomach.
The world spins as the boy is sent crashing into nearby trash bins.
"It's my final decision," the man says coldly before walking away.
The boy clutches his stomach, gasping.
It's fine, he thinks shakily.
I'll endure a few days. I'll find another job.
That night, he goes to his part-time shift at the store.
There is another boy there—someone who always mocks him.
In front of the owner, that boy acts loyal and obedient.
Behind the scenes, he steals supplies and sells them elsewhere.
That night, during inventory, the owner notices something is wrong.
The numbers don't match.
Enraged, the owner drags the boy forward.
"Explain yourself!"
The boy panics. He has no idea what is happening.
Before he can speak, fists crash into his face.
The beating doesn't stop until darkness swallows his vision.
When he wakes up, he's lying outside the store.
Thrown away like trash.
Moments later, footsteps approach.
The other boy appears.
He spits on the unconscious body and walks away without looking back.
Once again, the boy opens his eyes.
And once again—he sees the dog.
Its tail wags softly.
Somehow, it is always there when he hits rock bottom.
The boy sighs weakly. He picks the dog up and walks home.
"Mom, I'm back," he calls.
No response.
He steps inside.
The floor is soaked in blood.
His heart stops.
His mother lies motionless on the ground, blood dried at her mouth.
He shakes her desperately.
"Mom… wake up…"
He splashes water on her face.
Nothing.
His voice cracks into broken sobs.
He had always known living without money was hard.
But he never imagined that dying because of money could hurt this much.
Two days pass.
The funeral is over.
Every night, guilt crushes him until he can barely breathe.
No matter how much he tries, he cannot forgive himself.
Then—everything changes.
A strange distortion forms beside his bed.
Space twists.
A wormhole opens.
Before he can react, an unknown force drags him forward.
Darkness consumes him.
As he is pulled away from his broken world, a single thought echoes in his mind—
Was all this suffering meaningless…
or was it just the beginning?
And the boy disappears into another