Leandro de Souza used to be a walking mural. From neck to ankles, bright ink battled for space on his skin until only five percent of the original surface remained untouched. Crowds at the Santa Rosa Tattoo Expo cheered when organizers crowned him Brazil’s most tattooed man. Today, the same skin is blotchy, fading, and stinging—exactly how he wants it.
Faith arrived two years ago, carried by a stranger who spoke about forgiveness inside a homeless shelter. At that point Leandro was sleeping on a thin mattress, his days clouded by drugs and a breakup that still felt fresh. Church songs replaced nightclub beats, and every sermon seemed to scrub deeper than the last. He looked at the skulls, spider webs, and swirling letters stamped across his arms and face and realized they told a story he no longer believed.
