A bucket of cold water was poured on Martin, and he woke up with a stir, only to find that he had been tied to a wooden stake, which stood on top of a very large and high stage-like building, which had upturned cornices and was supported only by four pillars on all sides, so that what was happening on the stage could be seen from all angles.

There were a lot of people standing below, men, women and children, most of them in ragged clothes, probably the villagers or mountain people here. Next to Martin stood a man with a white gauze on his head, a very old man with a long beard, who was excitedly saying something to the people below, and their language Martin did not understand a word, but he saw a burst of cheers from the audience from time to time.

Oh no, they're judging me. Martin thought to himself, after the trial, I don't know whether to stone me or hang me, but the people here should not believe in Christ, they will not crucify me.

Martin didn't expect that he would end up like this, he was so desperate that he just felt that he was not worth it. His work task has not been completed, the two elders are there, and they need filial piety, Benoy is still there, and he is still the lover he remembers in his heart. The girl who rescued herself, the person who had a skin-to-skin relationship, is also worth remembering.

But all this was only a flash in his mind, and he suddenly remembered the director.

It was also because of the director that they came here. Because of the director, Martin became the enemy of the inhabitants of the audience, a damned heretic or invader in their eyes. Martin couldn't argue, he didn't know how things had come to this point, all of this was unpredictable and elusive. It's like a nightmare.

In his dream, Martin wanted to wake up, but he couldn't open his eyes. He doesn't know what kind of grievances and grievances the director has with these people, why did the two sides come to the point of life and death? And from the very beginning, it was clear that the Director had not anticipated the hostility of these people towards them, otherwise it would not have been possible to bring everyone here to die without warning.

However, it is difficult to tell the rights and wrongs of these histories at once, so we can only accept the reality. The reality is so cruel that there is no choice. These people obviously use Martin as a stand-in for the devil, killing Martin, maybe revenge, maybe exorcism, maybe it's just a simple ritual, a process, and it doesn't even make much sense.

While Martin was thinking nonsense, a big man suddenly came up from the audience, and Martin didn't know him. Carrying a bucket of water in his right hand and a rolled leather whip in his left hand, he approached Martin.

The old man was facing the sky and muttering to himself. Suddenly, he let out a loud shout, startling Martin. The audience applauded.

The big man who had just come to power heard the old man's words, put down the bucket, handed the leather whip to his right hand, and then dipped the leather whip in the bucket, and there was a crisp sound of "pop", which was the explosion sound of the leather whip thrown up in the air.

The people in the audience began to jump and shout, which was chaotic and lively. Martin saw that they were now dancing around each other, and now no one was looking at Martin, only the big man with a leather whip.

"Snap" again, this time the leather whip was no longer empty, but firmly whipped on Martin.

Although it was through his clothes, how could this thin coat withstand this thunderbolt of lightning, Martin's body immediately had a blood stain, and then a hot pain, like a skinned frog that had been smeared with spices and was still alive on the barbecue.

Unable to jump and want to jump, Martin's legs twitched, he was like a dying sea turtle, his head had been slashed, but it had not been cut off, the shell was heavier than the soul, so Martin was about to sink into the deep sea, leaving only a string of small bubbles.