Thank You For Being Trash

Trigger Warning: This chapter includes content about child predatory and non-consensual. Please take caution before reading, discretion is advised.

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“Uwaa! Uwaa!”

The child cried loudly and greeted the moment of birth.

It was the birth of a child that everyone had been waiting for. The child's mother comforted the crying child and waited for the child to wake up.

When the child finally opened his eyes and met eyes with his mother who gave birth to him, the expression on the mother's face that the child first saw was not a happy one, but a cold one.

The child did not have a name. For convenience, people took the child's golden hair and called him ‘Gold.’ Still, the child was not dissatisfied with the absence of his name. He was rather grateful that he hadn't been thrown out.

The child was born in a brothel, and two or three children were abandoned on the street every day. Half were never even born. Because of that, the child was satisfied. He was grateful that he was born and his useless self was not abandoned by the person who gave birth to him.

He was so happy with that little thing.

The child was brought up in a decent environment for being born in a brothel. He could read and write, he had no experience in receiving guests. He was different from other children born and raised in brothels.

Until then, the child thought his mother loved him, so he tried to be loved.

Eventually, the child grew up and when he was seven, the child found out why he wasn't abandoned, and why his mother gave birth to him.

It wasn't about blood, and it wasn't about maternal love either.

The child was fortunately born at the right time. Before having the child, his mother had a relationship with a noble. She used the child to the noble so that she could become his mistress, at the very least. She gave birth to him so that she could get a penny more.

However, as a result, the child was not a child of the noble. The woman despaired that the child she had cherished for ten months was a worthless bloodline. The look of the child reminded her of the blond young man who smiled shyly one day to show sympathy.

The woman even thought that she would abandon the child.

This was a place where a penny was precious. Because of the money, the security was not good enough that murders occurred frequently. It was a city where marginalized people lived, and those who grew up in poor living conditions had no moral sense.

In this busy place to eat and live, morality was one of the unnecessary knowledge. The woman raised her child, remembering the appearance of the handsome young man. She thought this kid would be worth it.

The child found out later that she was not a philanthropist and he was only brought in because she thought he was useful. It was a sweet life that made him forget his plight. He accepted the days that were sweet enough to forget his plight even for a moment.

His own mother was a prostitute, and the people who feed him were also prostitutes.

They worked to make money, and they ate with the money they earned. Now, the child was being dragged into the room they used to receive guests. He struggled as much as he could, though the child was still dragged around without strength.

Tears flowed from the child's eyes.

…If that was the case, just throw him away, don't let him be born.

Contradictory feelings bloomed.

“He’s a boy, but isn’t he pretty?”

They showcased him as if they were introducing merchandise.

It was widely known that in the walls of the city, men with a neat and clean face who were unlikely to come here were quite unique. He had only had relationships with children under the age of ten… And, in a very violent way.

He killed more than a dozen children. Even the child who came here led by a woman had heard the rumor and knew it well. The sound of his cruel treatment of children was lurking in the brothel. The reason why he was not sanctioned was because he was a nobleman, gave a lot of money, and had more children coming in than dying.

The child was afraid of him. Death was scary.

He was terrified of this world leaving such a killer alone.

Because of that, his anger rose. Why was he born in a place like this…? If he had been a nobleman, he wouldn't have been treated this way. If only he was a nobleman… He had a meaningless thought.

The mother who gave birth to him and the women who raised him up to this point threw him here. It was like they didn't care if the child died or not. The man nodded his head. It meant it didn't matter if it was a boy.

“Have a good time.”

The woman shut the door.

* * *

In the end, the child lived.

He was driven to the brink of death, and he barely survived. Heat rose from his body, and the child suffered from shock for a long time. The child was relieved to be alive, though he was terrified that they would abandon him, who was ill and unable to work.

The child thought that human beings were indeed cunning.

From time to time, the child met the man. Every time the child met the man, he was terrified that he might die. Still, the child chose to spend the night with him, fearing that he might be abandoned if he did not do it with the man.

Always, the day after he slept with the man, he was very ill and did not eat well.

The meat side dish was served on the table. The child ate the meat side dish and vomited it up. It was disgusting that the child had to give up everything to get a meat side dish, though without even that, the child had no intention of living.

Because he knew that the only cold meat dish on the table was his mother's way of expressing love. It was painful to be hung up on that simple and insincere love, but the little child was hungry from love.

When the child was ten, he was freed from the man's hands.

The child was happy, but not very happy. Now he rolled his head as to where to prove his utility. The child despaired, as all he could do was barely escape the night. After that, the child spent the night with several people.

The child had no reason to cling to them who had given him tragedy. Still, the child was afraid to be alone, and the situation was better here than in other stores. It was the same everywhere he went. Sell ​​your body and get money.

Nevertheless, the child knew that in this place was treated like a human being. They gave him rest when he was sick, and they shared some of the money he had earned.

The fifteen-year-old child wandered the streets.

He occasionally drank in bars and used drugs. Alcohol and drugs were established as essential cultures in brothels. If he didn’t let his mind go, it was difficult to live. They were forced to drink and do drugs. He spent all his money on alcohol and drugs. The child had a hard time understanding it.

Nevertheless, they could not be happy for a moment without it.

Waking up from the dream, they despaired. Not wanting to feel the emptiness, there were many drug addicts in the brothel. He didn't know why they had to live like that, though he wanted to live.

He wanted to live happily.

The child had an extraordinary talent for seeing people. Although it was ironic that it might be a talent after sleeping with a lot of people in a brothel. The child decided to think well.

The child took nobles and knights to his shop, where his abilities were recognized. He was glad that he no longer had to spend the night with others. The child began to learn something with the money falling into his hands.

…Perhaps, he could get out of here, maybe, very possibly, in a situation that got better with his own efforts? He had an idea.

At seventeen, as an adult, he gave up hope when he started working with women.

No matter how hard he tried, the only value he had in himself was ‘sex.’ A handsome male. That was all he was valued at.

No matter how hard the child tried, no matter how much he studied, it was not necessary here, just like the knowledge that didn’t need morals. Everything the child was learning and trying was unnecessary.

Ugly nobles who treated him as they please, those with strange tastes…

The women of the brothel, who entertained people they did not like, also released all their resentment toward the child. Instinctively, they knew he was weaker than themselves.

The child did nothing wrong. It was just gratifying.

The child saw the one who raised him. Those things didn't really matter here. Still, the child felt grateful that the person who gave birth to him did not make such demands on him. It was a very thin threshold of gratitude (the size of the smallest stimulus that could cause excitement in sensory cells).

He cried out in despair that I could not get out of this place no matter what he did.

Why me… Why me…

So far, he had not felt dissatisfied with his lack of a name. He was just grateful to be alive.

For the first time, the child felt bitterness at the lack of name and no last name.

Torn books rolled on the floor. He glanced at the books lying on the floor and couldn't hide his disappointment. He just laughed at it. He laughed and pretended to be crazy, tossing things on the floor and shattering dishes.

Still, the feeling of emptiness and disappointment continued to grow.

Papers were used to kindle fires and heat the room.

* * *

The child was drinking at the bar. The child was still nameless, and his heart was empty, filled with only anger against the nobles. Why didn’t they come to this place and save them while living to the fullest…?

Why didn’t they just give him the right to live like a human being?

He drank. He understood why people were spending all their hard-earned money on alcohol and drugs. Even though he hated living like a fool, he didn't have the courage to die.

“I heard that the Fourth Prince is coming to the brothel this time?”

In the noisy bar, the mention of the prince pierced his ears.

Silence hung over the noisy bar. Different people thought the same thing. Captivate the Prince and use his life as collateral. It must have been a pretty important topic, and even though the hall was quiet, they didn't want to stop talking.

Rather, they raised their voice and told the story to the people in the bar as if they were advertising it.

"Why…? What brings him here? How did a noble prince come to such a distance?”

“That, the mother who gave birth to the Fourth Prince was pushed out and went to this brothel…”

The child did not listen to their story until the end and left the room. He thought that wherever he went, there would only be disgusting things. It would be people like him who spat blood.

Nails neatly trimmed and hands covered in calluses. Even though it's a bar, it looked like they were sitting at an angle.

The man who spread the Prince's information was a knight.

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