The collective sound of sharp, horrified gasps rippled through the dense circle of onlookers as Glen Johnson ruthlessly continued the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Watching his relentless, desperate effort to force air into the dying woman's lungs, the bystanders couldn't help but exchange guilty glances, a profound sense of genuine admiration slowly washing over them.It was a harsh, undeniable truth of the modern world: most people considered themselves inherently decent, and the vast majority of the crowd forming the barricade genuinely wanted to help someone in a sudden, life-threatening crisis. But faced with the visceral, stomach-churning reality of a dying, seventy-something-year-old woman violently foaming at the mouth, almost no one possessed the iron stomach or the raw nerve required to actually lock lips with her. Human nature was predictably shallow; if the victim crumpled on the concrete had been a beautiful, eighteen-year-old girl in distress, half the men currently stan