Neurolink System in the Modern World
Chapter 116 - 116: Gratitude

At 9:00 am, I parked my car in front of a shabby apartment building. The place looked like it had seen better days – the paint was faded, windows were cracked, and graffiti covered the walls. It seemed as though the building itself had grown tired from the passage of time, as if it had borne witness to countless struggles.

The neighborhood wasn't exactly the picture of charm either. It had a worn-out, crowded atmosphere, with narrow streets and buildings showing signs of wear and tear. In the background, the sounds of the city filled the air – distant sirens, honking car horns, and unintelligible conversations.

This was the kind of neighborhood where people lived paycheck to paycheck, where making ends meet was a constant battle. It was a place filled with resilient individuals who faced life's challenges head-on, even in tough circumstances.

My branded car certainly stood out in this place. It was clear from the curious glances of the people around that they weren't accustomed to seeing such an expensive vehicle in their neighborhood. Most of the cars on the street were cheap, small electric tricycles, making my car a noticeable anomaly in this environment.

But I hadn't come here to flaunt my wealth; I had a very important matter to attend to.

Stepping out of the car, I made my way towards the apartment building. I asked for directions, and after a few inquiries, I was pointed towards a room on the fifth floor.

Climbing the stairs was effortless for me, but for some unknown reason, my heart felt unusually burdened. Despite this, I pressed on until I arrived at the room I had been searching for.

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

I stood in front of the door, my knuckles lightly tapping on the weathered wood.

After a minute or so of waiting, the door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman with a weary and red face. Her eyes bore the unmistakable signs of grief, and her tired expression spoke volumes about the pain she had been enduring.

"Hello, ma'am," I began, my tone filled with sympathy. "I'm a friend of Rak's, and I just heard about what happened to him . I wanted to express my deepest condolences for your loss." I bowed my head, hoping to convey my sincerity and condolences.

I kept my head respectfully bowed, my eyes fixed on the floor. I waited in silence, giving her the time and space she needed to respond. It was clear that my presence was an intrusion into a deeply personal moment of grief and loss.

"Come in" she said kindly, and as I raised my gaze to her, I was surprised to see a faint smile on her face. It appeared that she was genuinely grateful to see someone who cared about her son.

Stepping into the room, I immediately noticed its small size; it was so cramped that it wouldn't comfortably fit more than four people. The limited space made it challenging to navigate, and I quickly realized there were no chairs available. With no other option, I settled down on the floor, adjusting to the constraints of the room.

"How did you know my son ?" she inquired, her voice tinged with curiosity as she sought to understand the connection between me and her late son.

"In school. He helped me so much," I replied.

"That troublesome kid helped you?" She forced a chuckle, but I could see the pain in her eyes.

"He was a very good friend," I added.

There was a momentary pause, and her face seemed filled with longing.

"Thank you for telling me this. I'm glad that he made one good friend" she responded.

"Mom, is brother back?"

A small, quivering voice caught my attention, and I turned around to see a 12-year-old girl with tear-filled eyes.

"You're not brother. Where is my brother? I want my brother !!!!" She began sobbing uncontrollably, her little shoulders shaking with grief.

"Hey, Ruri, don't be rude to our guest. He's your brother's friend," Rak's mom rushed over to the little girl, embracing her tightly.

Both mother and daughter were now in tears, their sorrow and sense of loss filling the room with an overwhelming and heartbreaking emotion.

I remained silent, giving them the space they needed to regain their composure. It wasn't my place to say anything in this moment of grief and vulnerability.

After a while, their sobs gradually quieted down, and Rak's mom gently wiped away Ruri's tears with a tissue. It was a touching moment, and I still felt that it wasn't the right time for me to speak.

Finally, Rak's mom found the strength to talk

.

"Thank you for coming here and for being Rak's friend. He... he really needed friends like you. I'm sorry for breaking down like this, but it's just so hard without him." her voice trembling but filled with strength.

I nodded, fully understanding the depth of their loss.

"I'm really sorry for what happened to your brother. "

Ruri, her eyes still filled with tears, looked at me with  curiosity and sadness.

"Did you and my brother have fun together?"

"Yes, we had a lot of fun. Your brother was a wonderful guy."

Rak's mom mustered a faint smile despite her tears. "Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to us."

As we continued to exchange memories and stories about Rak, a sense of warmth filled the room, as if we were collectively paying tribute to his memory.

I might have been lying a lot and bending the truth, but in that moment, it didn't matter to me. All I wanted was for them to remember Rak as a good person, and if my words could help preserve his positive image, then it was worth it.

"Take this," I said, handing them a bag containing 5 million Won. ( 3695 USD)

"What is this?" she asked, puzzled.

"It's Rak's belongings," I replied, wanting to offer them some financial support during this difficult time.

I noticed her attempting to open the bag, but I gently stopped her hands.

"Please, open it after I leave ,"

[Suggestion : Success ]