The murderous ghost originated from the legend of the ghost of the foggy night.

Since the fire was further weakened by the erosion of chaos a hundred years ago, whenever night falls, the lower areas on the edge of the barrier of order will always be shrouded in a fog that cannot be dispersed—if only a little fog is not to be feared, but in the gray fog, the first thing to collapse is the human heart—morality and law, justice and justice, the glory brought by order, is lost under the deterioration of the human heart.

Thus, the ghost was born.

Murderers hide in the foggy night, quietly harvesting life, nothing to do with good and evil, nothing to do with money, nothing to do with love and hate, the evil ghosts that have become legends seem to be only satisfied with their own selfishness, and they kill indiscriminately without goal and meaning, and have become the nightmare of a whole era.

Even today, the murderers of the foggy night still have a reputation for making children stop crying.

Of course, this is not an accident, but some kind of necessity.

Behind the legend, there is a big invisible hand that has been fueling the fire.

It is not a person, nor an individual, but a huge shadow that has not changed for hundreds of years over Hemtika, a deformed monster born in the hearts of dark people-it is not only a gathering of evil parties in the name of darkness, but also a vicious guild that uses power and money to snarn the outlaws of the entire lower districts, and it is also an unshakable overlord in the underground world, a dark guild that builds one of the "three pillars" of order in the lower districts.

Few people know that it has been secretly breeding evil spirits for a long time.

The Killer is no longer the name of the executioner who killed people a hundred years ago, but has evolved into a technology, a technology developed with the goal of killing.

- Chakras.

All the terrifying powers of the High Demons that are beyond the reach of humans are precisely because of the existence of chakras in their bodies, and the Dark Guild, aware of this, has an almost crazy idea - what will happen if the chakras belonging to the High Demons are transplanted into the human body?

The answer, of course, is death.

The conflict between order and chaos is irreconcilable, how can the mortal body of human beings carry the extraordinary power of demons? However, the researchers who were not willing to fail were not discouraged by the mass death of the test subjects, on the contrary, this crazy and evil organization began even more frantic human experiments, until finally the forbidden flower was born—in that chaotic era, the murderer of the foggy night was born.

Demons beyond ordinary human understanding have descended into the world, and this is only the beginning.

Even after suffering huge losses due to the uncontrolled experiment, the Dark Guild had no intention of giving up the experiment, and in the past few years, it has achieved phased results.

Thus was born the mass-produced biological weapon, the Killer.

As a half-finished product of compromise with reality, the newborn killers did not transplant complete chakras, but implanted some of the chakras in their bodies, gaining physical fitness and keen five senses comparable to those of the glorious, and to a certain extent, they can even match the real demons.

From one to thirteen, each murderous ghost who has been concocted has its own title.

But among them, only No. 1 is different.

- He inherited the original name of a hundred years ago, and inherited the title of "Foggy Night".

Murderers are no longer human beings in the true sense of the word, the humanity in their bodies has long been exhausted in the long torment, and the implanted demon flesh and blood has extraordinary erosive characteristics, which may not be visible from the appearance, but the organs in their bodies have long evolved into a tangled wriggling mass of flesh, whether from a psychological or physiological point of view, they are more inclined to demons than humans.

But even so, they have emotions, and they have love and hate.

No - there is no love, only hate......

The twelve-numbered "Black Jack" narrowed his black eyes, as a murderer, he had long forgotten what he was born to do, and all that was left in his mind was the desire to kill, his absolute obedience to the orders of the guild, and ...... Kill One...... instinct.

Yes, instinctively.

Blackjack sometimes has confusion, wondering why he is so obsessed with the "brother" who was born before him, but this confusion never lasts, whenever he sees him, sees the mask that seems to be smiling but not laughing, crying but not crying, and seeing the pair of black eyes, the killing instinct will always fill his heart, if it is not bound by the absolute command rooted in the depths of his heart, he is afraid that he will kill him as soon as possible, and kill the "brother" who inherited the name of Misty Night.

Not only him, but even his other "brothers".

From a long time ago, he had been vaguely aware that the original work that was named "Foggy Night" was different from them, two completely different species, and even a certain ...... in a certain food chain Natural enemies.

So—

Foggy Night Must Die!

As one of the more awakened murderers, he is always looking for the right time to kill him.

But Misty Night does have the strength to match his rank, and not only does all the tasks he handles miss, but those stupid humans can't even leave a wound on that guy, every time he ...... and the same kind of people who followed the monster with the same idea as him, all disappointed in each other's jealous eyes.

Until...... Today.

Today's target seemed to be different, not only did he not die under the knife of the foggy night, but he was also quite badly injured - even from a distance, Blackjack could smell the alluring smell of blood.

The time for action has come.

The murderer wandering in the foggy night has a direction - strange to say, among the thirteen murderers, he is the only one who has a special sense of the number one who inherited the name of "foggy night", not only can clearly feel the position of that guy, but can also faintly detect his mood fluctuations.

Although most of the time it was as calm as a cold pool, there were always exceptions - such as this time, the panic and panic transmitted through his thoughts, as fascinating as sweet poison, and before he even reached the location of the guy, his mind had already begun to think of the extreme pleasure (feeling) that would arise through the instinct after killing the guy.

- The body couldn't help but get excited.

- The blood boiled.

As if in a nightmare, Blackjack's spirit gradually became abnormal, and he went crazy to the location of his "brother" until he ......

He saw the mutilated bodies on the ground.

How...... How can it be?

The galloping blood instantly cooled and coagulated, and the unbelievable murderer could only be silent, silently looking at the blood dripping in front of him, looking at the broken corpse in front of him, as if he had lost something in his heart, it became empty, and there was only dazed and depressed in his black eyes.

"It can't be!"

He let out a sudden yell, then hysterically rummaged through the corpses.

He didn't believe it, he didn't believe that the guy would die so uneventfully, he didn't believe that the guy would die at the hands of someone other than him - no, not so much not believing, but ...... I don't want to believe it.

Is this emotion really hate?

The murderer who didn't understand people's hearts was confused, but it only lasted for a moment, and the human thinking was soon replaced by a high-flying instinct. Not for any particular reason, but simply because of ...... One of his kind stepped into his "hunting ground"—like a beast guarding his food, his hair rising suddenly, his dark eyes looking into the thick mist, the non-existent end of the mist.

It must be as soon as possible.

Blackjack urged himself, rummaging around the corpse, looking for something that he didn't even know he had.

What exactly are you looking for?

There was no such question, and the anomalous killer was just frantically searching for himself.

Finally—

His dark eyes met the silver-white mask, and an expression that seemed to be smiling and crying appeared on his face, and he reached out to grab the strange masks scattered on the ground, but stopped suddenly.

What am I doing here?

He woke up in a rare way, looking at the mask in his hand with horror, at the empty pupil on the mask—I don't know if it was his delusion, he felt it laughing, he felt that it was laughing at him with foolishness, showing a kind of maliciously, selective smile.

For some reason, the murderer, who had never had the emotion of fear, clearly felt it...... What is fear.

He wanted to let go, he wanted to throw it away, but—

He couldn't control his body at all, and could only passively, even helplessly, watch the strange mask in his hand get closer and closer to him, feel the twisted smile on his face, and open his throat in vain, letting out a heart-rending scream.

——

There was a moment of silence, and the screams came to an abrupt end.

Also stopped was Blackjack, who kept his hands moving like a statue, not moving, no breathing, no heartbeat, only his wooden eyes staring blankly at the sky above him.

"Whew-"

The first to turn are the eyeballs, the intimidating eyeballs of the black hole.

Then "Black Jack" let go of his hand, let go of the hand holding the mask, and looked down at his familiar and unfamiliar body, revealing the same weird smile under the strange mask of smiling but not laughing, crying but not crying.

"You're not the only one who wants to make amends," the killer whispered in the night, staring at the mutilated body on the ground with a look of remembrance, "Do you say—my stupid brother." ”

He scoffed and turned into the night.

- One step closer to the final completion of the supplement.

— but not yet.

- Until then, it seems like a better choice to get revenge first.

- The House of the Lost......

- Evan Ulysses!

He thought silently, and then, like smoke and dust, the figure gradually dissipated in the mist.

The night is still very long......