The figure on the ceiling was Dick Grayson, who had spent a week on the run. After killing Baron, the boy had hidden wherever he could and somehow survived the riots.
He had sheltered in the labyrinthine alleys of the Lower District, living among the Beggar Gang and surviving on roasted rats and bread crumbs from trash cans. In desperation, he had also tried to find Qin Wei, but after asking his way to The Roman's base in the East End, all he found were the Senate's tightly shut doors.
After so long in filthy surroundings, his stitched surgical wound had split open and begun to ooze pus.
Believing The Roman was still hunting him, Dick had not dared go to a hospital. Knowing he did not have long to live, he decided to pull off one last big job and take a few gangsters down with him.
He set his sights on Royce, The Roman's boss in the northern district. Years of performing on the trapeze had given Dick the agility to slip inside without a sound.
If not for Royce's final murmur, he would have succeeded.
Realizing the man might be Qin Wei's friend, Dick hesitated for a long time before finally abandoning the assassination.
After Royce left, he climbed down from the ceiling.
Unbearable hunger swept over him along with a wave of dizziness. Dick should have left as soon as possible, but instead, almost without thinking, he crept into the kitchen.
Half a loaf of hardened bread, a nearly empty jar of jam, and butter riddled with bite marks from rats and cockroaches-in the moonlight, Dick raided the kitchen and stuffed everything edible into his stomach.
Royce and his people lived far more poorly than he had imagined.
Huddled behind the kitchen counter, Dick looked like