Living as a straight-laced Hunter, you had a normal and for the most part uneventful life. That is until you run into Feitan, a member of the notorious Phantom Troupe and he turns your whole world upside down. Not everything is as it seems in this s...
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The air was thick with pollution, and the heat was scorching hot. There were screams coming from an unknown location, probably some crime was being committed. Yet this was a regular day in Meteor City.
A small five-year-old boy with black hair and grey eyes sat on the floor with his knees clasped between his hands. It had been days since the last time he'd ate, and his stomach was growling painfully.
Food was scarce among the residents of this city and even harder to come by for orphans and the homeless, like little Feitan.
He began to wander the streets, searching for a crumb to eat. After walking for what seemed like hours, his tired eyes caught a man carrying a basket with food. As he neared him, he realized that he did not recognize what he had in his possession. If he ever had enough luck to eat, it was almost always stale bread.
Yet what this large, bald man was holding was fruit. Feitan would not come to know this until much later, as fresh fruits were amongst the rarest sustenance found in Meteor City.
He followed his round-bellied target and took the opportunity to swipe a red juicy apple when he turned the corner of the street. It felt cold in his hands, but he did not care as it was still food.
Unfortunately for him, the man noticed that this small child had stolen from him and enraged he began his pursuit of him.
"Hey, you filthy brat! Give that back!" he hollered as he ran down the streets after the black-haired boy.
If he would have been a well-nourished and normal child, he would've been able to easily escape. But he was incredibly tired and starving; weakened to the point where even a fat lazy man could best him at running.
He grabbed the child by his forearm and snatched the apple away. Still securing his grasp on him, he stared him in the eyes.
"Disgusting filth. You think I want this after you touched it?" He spat in his face and flung him on the ground. He dropped the apple, and with his right foot he crushed it, making sure it was no longer edible.
"You ever steal from me again and you're dead you bastard."
As the man walked away not even bothering to look back at the poor malnourished child behind him, the boy reached out and scraped whatever was left of the squashed apple, mixed with the dirt of the floor.
He cried as he ate the pitiful excuse of fruit, and this was all he'd ever know. His only way to survive was to steal and hide. There were so many children like him here that no one ever bothered to help them. They were pests, the same as rats to the people of this place.
As the night got colder, he would wrap himself in a blanket he had hidden in a hole behind a crate, stuck in the alley. He would lay there and pretend he was sleeping in a warm bed, with as much food to go around. His feet wouldn't ache because he had shoes, and his clothes were always clean and mended.
