Fortunately, Shiros was wearing underwear, so it could be said that those thieves were somewhat kind-hearted.
Isn't that so?
He didn't dare leave that alley but stayed there crying, raging, depressing, and cursing until sunset. As soon as the sun set, the four men returned: "Hello, boy... We brought food. Come, let's eat."
"Come? You stole my clothes and dare to come with such impudence? Give me back my clothes, or I'll report you to the police."
Author: Of course, there was no such thing as police in that era, but tax collectors were an extension of the judges' authority, so complaints were submitted to them. I used the word "police" to make the meaning clear.
"Boy, your clothes were of high quality. We took them to sell... and we brought you other clothes that are decent... They're old and have some holes, but they'll cover your private parts."
"Don't mess with me. I want my clothes."
Another man said: "My little friend, I agree with you that the clothes we brought won't protect from the cold, but in summer, they'll be very comfortable."
Shiros the stubborn replied stubbornly: "I told you, you bastard, I want my clothes."
This time, the men could no longer tolerate the nonsense of a spoiled child, so one of them stood, approached him, and punched Shiros, knocking him to the ground, then said: "Boy, do you know what prevents me from raping you right now? Nothing... Nothing prevents me from raping you."
"I'm not your mother to take care of you. If you want to stay alive, you must obey orders."
The poor boy stood with difficulty and said: "Fine."
"Starting tomorrow, you'll have to work to stay with us."
Shiros replied mockingly: "Hahaha, if I worked, I wouldn't stay with you... Do you even work? Why do you live in the streets if you're employed?"
"Hahaha, little one, we don't work in the sense of trading or being employed, but our work is divided into big work and small work."
The ragged man paused a bit and continued: "Small work is humiliating and brings shame and pity from the sensitive around you."
"As for big work, it's difficult and dangerous and requires a bold, brave, noble hero to practice it."
Shiros's expressions intertwined, and no clear idea or feeling appeared in his mind, so he said: "Uh, fine. I think I'm a bold, brave hero."
"Then you must prove your manhood to us."
Shiros couldn't hide his confusion and said: "Man, what is this big work?"
"Taking the excess from others' wealth."
Shiros burst into laughter: "Hahahahahaha, man, you mean you're thieves?"
"Hahaha, where is the nobility and honor in this? Tell me, where is the manhood in all this??"
Shiros was an ordinary citizen living in the city of Babylon with popular concepts of something like theft, and he used these concepts to judge the homeless men's words. But what you overlooked, dear reader, is that these failed homeless men are the wisest people.
Everyone waited for Shiros to stop laughing and mocking, then one of them stood and said to Shiros: "A real man earns his livelihood himself, but the greatest men are those who help their fellow men, and that is nobility. For that, you need courage to face the added responsibility on your shoulders because of helping others."
Shiros stammered, and his mind began coughing, trying to digest this complex talk, as he said: "This uh, this is true, but it doesn't mean at all that you're noble and brave even by your deep concept. There's no evidence."
Great disrespect he showed, but they had the reply: "You are the evidence."