Three days had passed and Conan was still unconscious. Mrs. Jones took him in their home upon hearing the incident.

She felt sorry for him for all the bad luck that occured to his family in the past days. She didn't know how to cheer him up once he woke up.

"Mom, is he dead? Why isn't he waking up yet?"

"Sssshh! You saw what happened and it's reasonable that he's still unconscious. Those men didn't even spare the poor kid."

Mrs. Jones eyes landed to the collar around Conan's neck. She sighed. This isn't a new sight to her. There was almost a hundred of people who were wearing the same collar as him in their area. The only difference was that it didn't came from the same organization.

Their life was far beyond hard. It was lucky for a family to eat twice a day.

The government had turned their backs to them as they don't see any value of them anymore. Just like garbage, they were the City's leftovers.

Some people who live here used to stay before in the City. But due to high competition and unstable business ventures, their net worth decreased and went bankrupt. They can't afford to pay their taxes and was left no choice but to leave before the authorities will arrest them for tax evasion.

Others are product of premarital sex, unwanted child and slaves who don't have any use anymore, or simply people who can't afford to live in the Highlands View.

They aren't any different from the garbages that they were dumping.

Mrs. Jones slightly shakes her head and went to their deteriorated kitchen. 

She heats up the porridge that her husband found from the fresh garbage that they dumped yesterday. It was delicious. She left something for Conan as it was a good food for fast recovery.

Conan slowly opened his heavy eyelids. He groaned when he felt the immense pain all over his body. Even though he just woke up, his mind was still in right condition. The events were still fresh to him like it was engraved permanently.

He coughed and Mrs. Jones stumbled in hurry to check him. 

"Oh boy, be careful! Don't move too much!" 

She helped Conan who was struggling to sit up.

"Here, have some water first. Stay here. I'll get you something to eat."

Conan watched Mrs. Jones in a hurried movements. He cleared his throat when he was about to cry again. He was really glad that he found a refuge in the care of the Jones family.

He touched the collar and gripped it tightly. He doesn't know what to do with his life anymore. He just wanted to die but when he remembered the promise that he'll get his sister back, his grip loosened, eyes shifting back to Mrs. Jones who was holding a hot bowl of meal.

His stomach grumbled when he smelled the aroma of the food.

"Finish it all so that you'll heal faster."

Conan took a spoonful inside his mouth, not even minding that it was piping hot. 

Mrs. Jones watched him in amusement but was immediately vanished when Conan asked her a question.

"Where is my mother, Mrs. Jones? I want to see her and bid my goodbye."

She gulped, unable to tell him that her body was now gone.

"Mrs. Jones?"

She scratched her head and speak to him with so much reluctancy.

"You've been out for almost four days, Conan. We can't let her stay like that. Her body would smell and insect and flies will gather around the neighborhood. We are waiting for you but you took too long. I'm sorry but we've already burned her body."

Conan cannot swallow now the warm porridge inside his mouth. He understand it but the excruciating pain inside his chest was so intense that he dropped the bowl that he was holding.

Mrs. Jones started to panic when Conan started to sob silently. Unable on what to do, she embraced him into a warm hug.

"Sshh. It's alright. It's alright. Just cry it out. Everything will be fine soon," she hushed while caressing his back.

Conan hugged her tightly. Mrs. Jones throat went dry, tears forming from the corners of her eyes. She can't imagine all the pain and suffering that he was experiencing. For such a young age, she doubt that he can easily move on from this.

She discussed to her husband yesterday that they will take Conan in the mean time as he needs emotional support. Her husband was hesitant at first but due to her persistent attitude, she managed to make him agree.

It was late night when Conan talked again.

"I appreciate your kindness but I think I need to go back in our house. I don't want to trouble you more," he said in a soft voice.

Mrs. Jones blinked her eyes. "What? What are you talking about? You are not troubling anyone! You can even leave here—"

"I'm really glad to have you, Mrs. Jones. I won't forget all the good things that you did to us. I promise that I will repay you someday." 

Mrs. Jones mouth hung open. What was this boy saying all of a sudden?

Conan tried to smile. "I don't want any of you to get drag with the troubles that I'm in. I can't take it if you'll get hurt because of me. So please, let me return to my home and burden this problems alone."

She stared at Conan's serious face. She wants to insist but seeing the determination in his eyes, she sighed and gave up. She wanted to help him but guess he needs to be alone for now.

Conan made his way back to their house, holding a jar of ashes as he takes in the scenery around him. The laughter's of the drunken men, unending litanies and the kids playing under the lamp post. 

Something stirred inside him.

People here aren't that bad at all. They were just influenced by the greediness of the City and he felt that it was just natural. Who doesn't want a better life anyway?

Surviving each day was now harder compared before. He doesn't have any motivation to go forward. He kept thinking about his sister but he can't figure out on how to rescue her. He can't do anything with this small body. 

He cursed. How he wished that time will skip where he was now a full grown man where he can punch a face.

"Guys! The truck is now here!"

Saturday. It was late in the night yet the majority of people were still out here in the dump site. 

Every 15th of the month, a truck double the size of the garbage truck will come and threw a very unusual things in their area. Whether it's a dead person, unwanted foods and ingredients from restaurants and household's, clothes, used appliances, kids or killed animals.

It's the truck of good and bad luck and everyone were gathered around to share the fate that it brings.

The truck's door loudly opened. Excitement were written on everyone's faces, ready to pounce on the blessing that was soon be unveil.

The truck slowly unloaded it's present.

The joyful atmosphere gradually faded when they saw what they were throwing this month.

Their eyes widened. It's been awhile since they received something like this from the City.

Elderlies. The so-called dead weight of the Highlands society.