Around the age of 9 or 10, I started pushing boundaries. I was a curious, mischievous kid, always sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. One evening, my friends and I discovered that a small church near our school had a donation box for candle money. To us, it was a treasure chest. We were getting just €0.50 a day for school, so the sight of €40 felt like a fortune. We broke into that box and took the money, each of us suddenly rich by our standards.
With that money, we went straight to the shop and bought plastic guns and gear—ready to play "Counter-Strike" in real life. But as the day ended and it was time to go home, the other guys handed me their toys, asking me to bring them back tomorrow. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was too caught up in the excitement to realize I’d have to explain all this stuff when I got home.
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