In the dim, pre-dawn light, the deserted area near the water's edge was eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the waves. The silhouettes of weathered wooden fishing boats dotted the shoreline, their nets hanging loosely like ghosts in the mist. The air was thick with the scent of salt and decay, a reminder of the ocean’s harshness. A small chattering was heard from afar as three fishermen approached to set their traps for the morning, their footsteps crunched on the gravelly shore. Suddenly, one of them froze, pointing to a dark figure lying motionless on the ground. “Look! A body!” Antonio lay sprawled on his back lifeless. Blood soaked through his shirt, staining the ground beneath him, a stark contrast to the pale, damp sand. The fishermen exchanged uneasy glances, scared and at the same time worried about the whole scene. “He is not from here”. Another said quietly. One was brave enough to get closer. He looked older and more experienced than the other two. He knelt down beside Antonio and examined the body, feeling for a pulse. His eyes widened slightly as he found a faint, but present, heartbeat. “He's still alive,” the man muttered, his voice gruff yet urgent. “He is still breathing, we need to help him, let's get him to the village clinic fast!” The other two exchanged worried glances, knowing that this is no ordinary accident. They hesitated. “Look. There's a strange symbol carved into his chest… looks like some sort of tattoo. I don't think this man is a good man, he looks like a city Mafia and dangerous, maybe this is his fate”. The youngest of the three replied. “Are you suggesting we leave him here to die?” The one kneeling beside Antonio asked with a frown. “Let's pretend we never saw this, we could be getting ourselves in trouble”. The third suggested and the youngest nodded in agreement. The elderly one sighed, quickly stripped off his jacket to press against the bleeding wound. “There's no way I will see a young promising man who is about to die and leave him, I will take him to the clinic by myself”. “This can be dangerous, you know, you don't know him or where he is from”. The youngest insisted. “He is a human, a helpless human. I don't expect you two young men to understand. I had a son who was exactly your age. If only there was someone kind enough to take him to a hospital as soon as possible, he might have survived. Unfortunately, maybe the people who saw him said the same thing you said. He might be dangerous, and we don't even know him.” The others murmured and whispered words to each other. Unfortunately, they left him, one after another. The older fisherman sighed deeply. “Young man, it looks like your life depends on me, just me and you. Hang in there”. He groaned loudly as he tried to lift the tall massive body. Slow and steady, he was able to carry Antonio into the small village. His wife has been informed by the two other fishermen about her husband's plan to help an injured stranger. So she met her husband on his way to the clinic. “I was worried about you, oh my goodness, he is badly injured”. She gasped with a hand on her mouth. “Quick, help me out Rosa”. The man called with a groan. His wife agreed immediately. The two carried the body to the village clinic. A modest building with a corrugated iron roof and whitewashed walls. The clinic's doors swing open, and the fisherman gently places Antonio on a worn examination table. His wife ran into the doctor's office to inform the doctor. A few minutes later, she rushed out with a kind-faced village doctor, Dr. Sara. She was putting on her gloves as she approached Antonio. “Oh dear, he's got a severe head injury from the gunshot.” She quickly examined Antonio, her hands moving with precision as she checks his vital signs. “Will he survive?” The fisherman asked concerned, panting heavily. Dr. Sara looked up at him sharply then back to Antonio. “I can't say for now, but you did great by getting him here in the first place. Now I need to get him stabilized. I'll need your help to get him into a comfortable position”. The fisherman nodded immediately. Following the doctor's instructions, he carefully began to adjust Antonio's position as the doctor began to clean and dress his wounds. “You can leave the rest to me now, sir”. The doctor said softly. The fisherman nodded and stepped outside. The wife stood beside him as the door to the clinic closed in front of them. “You did great”. She whispered and smiled at her husband. The fisherman sighed. “Did you notice, he is the same age, and he reminded me so much…” “Of our son?” She concluded. The fisherman looked at his wife, her eyes were already soaked, but the smile on her lips explained it all. He nodded slowly. “I couldn't abandon him”. “I am proud of you for not abandoning him back there, I am sure our son is also proud of you too”. She hugged him.