That night, Kurapika did not go looking for Coleman again.
The fact that he had led a group of little children since he was barely over ten and still managed to keep them all alive this long proved that he was far from stupid.
Quite the opposite—he was exceptionally clever, and he understood exactly what Coleman had meant.
Standing by the bedroom window of the hotel, the blond boy quietly watched the moon hanging at the edge of the sky.
How could he possibly not understand?
After reading so many books, after struggling alone through the crowds and stumbling his way into finding a unique path to survival, how could he not know what the best course of action was?
It was just...
It was just that he was unwilling to accept it.
Gripping the bars over the window, Kurapika clenched his teeth.
Scarlet roiled in his eyes.
He was unwilling!
It was unfair!
Why?
Why were the guilty allowed to roam free while the innocent had to bear everything and live mired in the mud?
One youthful, familiar face after another flashed through his mind. Kurapika could still remember that bloody night, when a child five years younger than him had asked fearfully while trying to appear composed.
"Big brother, where are we going?"
"Why are we leaving our homeland? Is it time to migrate again?"
Amid the surging emotions, the child's eyes had turned a beautiful, priceless red.
He was afraid.
Kurapika knew very clearly that the child was terrified.
He also knew that he himself was terrified.
But he could not be afraid. He still had to lead these "hopes" away from here and find somewhere they could live.
"It's okay. It'll be over soon." The older child did not answer the little one directly, merely saying