Have you ever thought so?

All sins will be defeated by justice in the end, and all grievances will have a day when they will be resolved? It's like a matter of course, but can it really be done? The blood-stained blades will eventually be buried deep in the bottomless abyss, little by little, to be corrupted by punishment. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 infoEven the most dripping blood, in the process of tearing the flesh and gradually losing its temperature, the sins it carries will gradually fade...... There is no eternal law in this world, and the justice you follow, the position you hold, the right thing you think, and all the biased judgments you make will be distorted by this world at any time. Transformed, collided, dissolved, silenced, you have to accept that in order to survive better, this is a decision that the world forces you to make, or rather, a decision made by the world.

You are powerless to resist, to follow, to assimilate, to be willingly transformed into another person, another being that your former self could not have imagined.

There is no absolute white, and there is no absolute black.

Even the color of blood fades as it loses its temperature.

Perhaps, you will want to shout.

Perhaps, you will feel guilt, hatred, and even anger.

But no matter what you've been through along the way, no matter how long it takes you to adjust to your new self or try to fit into this timeless world, you'll always learn to willingly accept, numb, and finally admit that you've lost.

The compromise of human beings does not know whether it is evolution or degradation.

I leaned back against the black desk in silence and saw the small space for the first time.

A small wooden door was the only entrance to the room, and on the left side of the room was a wooden table with two open black backpacks on it, and behind the wooden table was a couch with a cut in it, and a light-colored sponge could be seen peeking out of the cracks in the couch.

Directly facing the door was the desk I was leaning on.

The table wasn't big, just up to my waist, and there were no chairs behind the table, like it had simply been discarded in this room. A few meters away, the second exit of the room, a boxy window with wooden frames, the windowsills covered with light gray dust, through which the sunlight seemed to be less bright than before, and the light in the room was a little darker.

The smell of blood wafts through the surrounding air like paint dripping from a glass of water.

After a little distance from the corpse, the smell of blood was no longer so strong, and the dizziness in the head seemed to be reduced a little as he breathed the hard-won air.

I didn't dare to make a fist, letting the sticky, slippery liquid drip down my fingers onto the floor at my feet, and each stroke seemed to be a "good-natured" reminder of what I had just done.

…… Don't think about it.

Being alive is the most important thing.

I gritted my teeth and shook my head, as if for a second or two my vision blurred, and to suppress the heavy guilt in my heart, I moved my steps to the table with two black backpacks.

Two black backpacks were placed on the old wooden table, one of the backpacks had been opened, the black object inside was slightly reflective, I reached into the open backpack, the warm fingertips touched the cold and hard texture for a moment, I frowned and took out the contents of the backpack.

There is some weight in the hand.

Pistol.

The black gun wasn't as light as it looked in my hand, and blood ran down my fingers onto the cold pistol. The temperature, along my fingertips, encroached on the cold body of the spear little by little.

Can it be used?

I looked at the black, lethal object in confusion, fiddling with my hands to get a glimpse of it.

After a few fiddling sessions, I chose to give up.

Obviously, my memory does not retain any method of using the pistol, I know nothing about the pistol, not even if the pistol in front of me is loaded, whether it can actually shoot bullets, or, I once knew a little bit about how to use the pistol, but even the most precious memory at this moment seems to have been erased, and I can't find out.

The only tool that can defend itself, do you also have to choose to give up?

Slightly frustrated, I wanted to let go of this heavy thing, but just then, I noticed two letters engraved on the gun.

【ag】

Abbreviations for personal names?

Abbreviation for place of manufacture?

Still is......

I was in a trance for a moment, and the conversation in the room rang out in my head out of place.

[I'll go outside and take a look.] You make sure the woman is awake and not. 】

The second kidnapper could return to the room at any moment, and with the walkie-talkie, would he realize that his companion on the other end had ......

Thinking of this, I couldn't help but feel a tightness in my heart, hurriedly lowered my body, brushed some messy hair behind my ears, put down the pistol, and flipped the backpack on the table. In addition to the pistol, there was a walkie-talkie in the open backpack, a few bags of dry bread, two bottles of mineral water, a map of the city, and a string of keys that I didn't know where to use it, I opened the crumpled map with some anxiety, and glanced at the names of the river buildings on the map, and found that the map depicted a place close to the suburbs, the only striking thing was a church circled in red pen on the map, but unfortunately, I had no impression of the place names on the map, I don't even know which country this is.

Next to the open backpack was a black mobile phone, apparently used by the kidnappers to contact the blackmailed person. I tried to turn on my phone, but it ran out of battery and turned off. The conversation a few minutes ago had apparently depleted his last reserves of power.

Looking at my own reflection on the cold phone screen, my heart chuckled.

A phone that runs out of battery gives me a not-so-good idea.

It's easy to imagine a phone battery run, but why didn't all three kidnappers carry batteries with backups? Obviously, there is no hostage exchange, no ransom has been paid, and there will be many places where mobile phones will be used...... Unless, they don't think it's necessary to continue contacting the other person.

There was a chill behind me, my clothes had been stained red with blood, and the blood that cooled little by little seemed to cool my skin through my clothes, and the cold air entered my body.

Forcing myself to retract my thoughts, I gritted my teeth and opened another backpack, revealing a few black T-shirts and dark green pants inside, exactly like the corpse was wearing. The only thing that can be speculated is that the process from the execution of the kidnapping to the ransom payment is obviously not a short period of time, and they have prepared clothes that can be replaced so that they can dispose of the clothes that can be extracted from the DNA in time. But without preparing the battery of the mobile phone, the leader of the opposing side was once a member of the military, and it stands to reason that it is impossible to make such a low-level mistake. They must have thought of the most thoughtful plan, is it really possible that the phone will run out of battery because of carelessness?

Perhaps, the other two had other mobile phones on them.

However, it is undeniable that there is another possibility......

I pondered in silence.

From the beginning, they had no intention of keeping me alive!

In other words, the purpose of this kidnapping case may not be money at all! Someone planned this accident just so that I could be buried at the hands of the so-called "kidnappers". They are just taking money to do things, to deceive the police, to create the illusion of kidnapping and accidental death, if it is not for the fact that I have a grudge against people in the past, then there is only one possibility left - I have a huge amount of insurance on my body. And the beneficiary is likely to be my "dear" husband, the capitalist Sid.

There was a dull pain in the head.

I lowered my body and leaned against the table.

Which one is more likely?

Who is the one who will take my life?

What have I done that makes my existence no longer tolerated......

Have you ever hated someone?

hated so much that he even wanted him to disappear, and even his existence could not continue to be tolerated, and he tried everything to end this life.

What kind of hatred is this......

I bit my lower lip tightly, and there was a smell of blood.

I turned my head to look at the door that was still closed.

No, now is not the time to think.

I lowered my head and pulled some clothes out of my backpack. He neatly took off his blood-soaked clothes and pants and quickly changed them.

Leave.

I don't know why, but the thought kept flashing back to me.

But I knew I couldn't be covered in blood in the world outside the room.

Even if you don't meet kidnappers, you will definitely be arrested as terrorists.

I can't just be at the mercy of others until I figure everything out.

Neither the police, nor the kidnappers, can't!

I'm going to find out with my own hands the man who is going to kill me......

God, I'm probably crazy!

Throwing my bloodied clothes at my feet, the disgust ingrained deep in my mind, like a rotting hand clinging to the last shred of my sanity and trying to tear my soul apart. I wiped the blood from my cheeks, neck, and hair with another T-shirt, each of which silently told me about the mistakes I had made.

I hate that feeling.

I am reminded of the corpse that fell behind my desk and the red-eyed me holding a knife......

The man's T-shirt was a little loose on his body, and the unwielding blood left an unsavory stickiness on his skin, and I made every move as if I were giving orders to myself, trying not to return my attention to the mess I was in.

Oh, God.

Forgive me.

I'm just trying to be able to live.

"Click."

The sound of footsteps outside the door interrupted my thoughts, and my body stiffened and stopped.

Holding my breath, I stared nervously at the door.

"Click." Again, the sound of clearer footsteps, sounding somewhat hurried, entered the room.

Someone, approaching.

I subconsciously glanced at the black desk on the right side of the room, which was facing the door, just enough to block the corpse and the blood all over the floor, but the smell of blood in the closed room was always too long to dissipate, and it was only a matter of time before the body was found.

The footsteps came a little closer, and they stopped outside the door.

I hesitated for a moment, picked up the pistol on the table, and hid my cat waist in the gap between the wooden table and the sofa.

"Squeak-"

The next second, I heard the door being pushed open.