At night, a man sat smoking, eyes locked on his phone screen displaying a graph curving upward.
"Gambling sites... really are a good business," he smiled.
His phone lit up—Dad.
He frowned. "Weird. He never calls," he muttered, standing up.
He exhaled, dropped the cigarette, stepped on it, and answered.
"Dad, what's going on?" he asked.
"David, I want to meet. There's something I need to say," his father replied.
A short call, one-sided.
David agreed. Drove to a nearby park, eyes half-rolling.
"Is this about arranged marriage again?" he thought.
He arrived. His father sat under a dim park light, brown jacket on, eyes tired with worry.
"Dad," David called.
His father stood. And—
Slap.
A sharp sting bloomed across David's cheek.
Spit.
It landed on his expensive suit—still fresh with nicotine.
"The fuck, Dad?" David snapped.
"You're a disgrace. A sinner!" his father shouted, fists clenched.
"You rob the poor with your goddamn loan scams!"
David sneered.
No fake respect left. "Come on. It's just business."
"Business? Booze? Gambling? You profit off filth!" his father roared.
David chuckled, then laughed.
"You dumb fuck. Stop calling me a sinner. You think you're some saint?"
His father trembled with rage.
David stepped closer. "Stop being a pathetic old man. What did you ever do for this family? Breed inside that tiny cage and make your kids suffer?"
His father's hand moved into his jacket.
David didn't flinch—too blinded by old wounds.
"What? You mad now? And what the fuck are you gonna do?"
That was the crack.
His mistake.
His father pulled a knife—
Drove it straight into David's gut.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
David tried to resist, but the pain spread too fast.
His body weakened, eyes tilting up.
A sky with no stars.
"Is this… the end?"
His father leaned down.
Hands soaked in red, trembling.
The knife dropped.
He clasped his hands, eyes shut tight, voice cracking into prayer:
"God... receive my son's soul. Cleanse his sins. If You must punish him first, do so... but please, grant him a place in heaven."
David heard it—barely.
Punish me?
I was the one who made them smile again…
A glimpse of his mother and sister's faces flashed in his mind.
I was the one who freed them from poverty…
He remembered the day they moved into a real house—no more leaks, no more cold nights.
Ah… lucky me, I did that…
A final image surfaced—him sitting across a lawyer, signing papers.
Ensuring everything he earned—every dollar from sin—would not fall into his father's blind kindness,
but into the hands of his mother and little sister—the only ones who still believed in him, even after knowing everything he'd done.
A final act of love, hidden beneath ambition.
A twisted redemption the world would never understand.
Even the prayer above… couldn't take that away.
A faint pride lingered, even as the prayer above tore into him.
His soul drifted…
Eyes still open—Ambition silenced.
Killed by the man who called it sin.