Sighing, Carlil stabbed the blade into someone's heart.

He didn't care about his name, nor did he care if the latter was in pain or not. In fact, before the victim could grunt and fall to the ground, Karil ran to another target.

He galloped, while still dodging the incoming bullets sideways. They roared, angrily opening holes in the wall behind him. The moment the bullet entered the wall and shot out the powder, the blade of his knife entered a body of flesh.

Then he cuts, slicing his abdomen with his left hand and his throat with his right. The human body is really fragile, and there are vital points everywhere in the body.

"It's the ghost!" Someone shouted in the darkness, naked fear in their voices. "The vengeful spirit!"

He must have been trembling. Carlil thought. Sensing this made him want to laugh a little.

yes, I'm coming.

And you ......

In the dark and dark corridor, a low laugh slowly sounded.

The matter of killing, for Carlil, was too simple. He did it so easily, so naturally, easier than breathing, almost instinctive.

For him, killing is like doing simple math problems. Is it difficult to add one to two, and do you still need to calculate it carefully with pen and paper?

Of course not.

But that doesn't mean he likes it.

He didn't kill for the sake of killing.

Five minutes later, Carlil decapitated the last person in the long hallway.

He stopped where he was, looked back at the corpses and scraps of flesh all over the floor, and took a few deep breaths. He savored the blood-soaked air and began to wait.

Sensing the tremor coming from the other side of the hallway, Carlil leaped to his feet without hesitation, briefly clinging to the ceiling with the help of his blade.

There was a lot of gunfire, automatic guns, shotguns, machine guns – some people were even shooting at it with laser guns. This made him squint and lick his lips.

Half a minute later, after a deadly rain of bullets whizzed away, he landed again.

The sound of landing was slight, but it was still detected. It couldn't be helped, he couldn't be as silent as a ghost, and the gang was very sharp.

In fact, Carlil felt that they were a little too sharp for a group of lunatics who were snorting LSD or anything else that could cause hallucinations.

Upon realizing that he was still alive, someone yelled and threw a shoddy grenade, and Carlil smiled and kicked it back, as if he were kicking a ball.

The gang offered him a gift, and Carlil, who considered himself a polite man, returned the favor with a violent explosion and fire—and, of course, the violent chaos that followed.

The sudden explosion solved a dozen minor problems that Carlil would have had to use blades and violence to solve, but he didn't think it was a good thing.

It's too loud.

Well...... Mistaken.

Running quickly away from the gaps in the scene, he thought.

There is no room for argument in this matter, and his job is like that, always surprising when one is caught off guard.

You never know what this gang can pull out to bombard you.

Homemade grenades are one of the less dangerous ones, and it's better than a rocket launcher that can blow up a building in one fell swoop.

Taking a deep breath, Carlil tensed the muscles in his legs, intending to leave.

He couldn't stay long, unless he wanted to go through a carnival like the ghosts.

Half a second later, Carlil's eyes lit up with that chilly blue light again.

Immediately after, he jumped out of the window lightly, bent his knees at the moment he landed, his muscles bulging, and he instantly reached the top of a tall building a few hundred meters away with only a few vertical jumps.

In the process, the wind whistled in his ears, and the freezing heat almost made his skin unconscious, but his eyes remained wide open.

The views of Quintus swept across his eyes, and when they were completely gone, he finally smiled.

The feeling of touching the ground followed, which meant that he hit the ground.

Taking another deep breath with a little weariness, Carlil slowly sat down against the wall. There was some discomfort in his spine and he needed something to relieve it.

There are more than a dozen air filters running quietly on the rooftop, and they are in good condition, apparently they have only been maintained for a long time. The people living in this building must have some relationship with the aristocracy, otherwise it would not have been possible to get such a living treatment.

With this in mind, Carlil began to pay attention to himself. However, when he does it, it is always painful.

Every time.

After careful perceiving, Carlil noticed that his leg muscles were very sore and his bones were whining.

Obviously, after a battle like that and a run beyond normal human imagination, his body was protesting against him.

In other words, his physique is dragging him down.

But it doesn't matter.

The rain stopped.

Carlil shook his head, deciding to tell himself a joke with his most hated sense of humor once again to ease his current bad mood.

"Look at the point." He muttered to himself. "At least you got those two motorcycles back, didn't you? Be polite and honest. There is borrowing and repaying, and it is not difficult to borrow again. ”

After telling the joke, Carlil waited three minutes.

He didn't laugh, he never laughed.

My sense of humor is really terrible, and I hate telling jokes. Carlil thought.

He sighed, then began to think. As he did this, he kept taking deep breaths.

The Great Purge is coming soon. He thought.

Once every twenty years, it is almost a cruel law of nature - the nobles will profit from it. In fact, they were profitable whether the Great Purge was carried out or not.

This cruel thing is more like a form of entertainment that provides a pastime...... What else can be said? In Nostramo, this is not unusual. At least it's much more normal than sewing a living person up and using it as a mattress.

The former still has interests to be gained, and the latter ...... If it weren't for seeing is believing, Carlil would have thought it was a crazy imagination.

Carlil smiled.

There were nearly seven hundred gangs in Quintus, and he couldn't kill them all, and he couldn't kill them until he died. As long as oppression from the aristocracy remains, there will be more and more poor workers who choose to abandon their human identity.

The world has been changed, completely changed. How can he get everything back on track alone?

He couldn't even set up a decent organization to recruit helpers. The way of thinking of the Nostramo people has been completely distorted, and there is no room for much goodness in this world......

But killing to kill is not the answer, Carlil.

yes, I know.

Carlil closed his eyes, completely distracted from distractions, and began to sink deeper into his thoughts, digging down without stopping. In a place like Nostramo, it's difficult to try to plan, but he has to try.

The gang that was killed by the Wraiths and all the leaders is called the Sons of Union.

An inexplicable name.

Not unlike all the other gangs, these people always liked to look up to the nobility.

This weird and awkward name is also part of it. They thought that by doing so, they would one day enter the ranks of the nobles, and only a few people clearly understood that the gangs were nothing more than dogs kept by the nobles.

Son of the Union, Carlil, began searching his own memories for the name, which he shouldn't have had. It doesn't really matter, though, does it?

Soon, he got the answer.

One of the leaders of the Children of Union recently joined Trembletooth.

Very good.

Trembling teeth, and Skolewalk......

These are two noble families with a long history, and they should all be noticed by now. It's a good thing, I wonder if I'm lucky enough to meet those honorable adults?

Carlil sneered.

The Skolewalker family had a coroner dead, and although they may have hundreds of similar people, the death of one of them was still not a trivial matter......

The Skolewalker family is very similar to all the other upper nobles, except for one thing that makes them special.

They value 'rules' and 'honor' very much.

Irony, right?

However, it's true.

Those who work for them are able to get a lot of things, and with complete loyalty, these people are able to get almost everything they want before they die.

This means that the Skolewalker family will definitely try to find out who killed the coroner.

As for the trembling teeth...... It was a group of madmen who loved flesh and blood and sensual stimulation. They will also not miss this good opportunity to come down to the nest to hunt and kill.

Carlil opened his eyes and smiled.

He already knew what he had to do, and if Trembling Tooth was going to join forces with the Skolewalker family to host an early dinner party in Quintus, then he had already gotten ahead of the organizers to get an admission letter.

Standing up again, Carlil leaned against the cold wall and let out a long, trembling sigh.

The pain kept him unable to stand comfortably, and after a brief period of relaxation, there was an even bigger, continuous frenzy of pain. Every time, the power is really bad, but it works well.

There's a reason he chose to pick up that broken chair from the trash.

First, no one wanted the chair, he could take it. Second...... He really needed a chair.

There is no day in Nostramo, only eternal night. Standing on the edge of the building, looking out at the view below, Carlil thought.

All the cities on this planet are rotten, and distorted materials have been used since the very beginning of their construction. He's just an ordinary person, and he can't change them and them.

He also knew that it was extremely selfish for him to let the ghost take care of everything—but what choice did he have?

"I don't realize until now that that statement is true."

Carlil laughed and muttered to himself. "Free will doesn't exist at all, unless you swallow a gun pipe, turn on the gas, or jump off the dock......"

-----------------

+ He again refused. +

+ Is it, my majesty? +

+ Yes. It seems that he misunderstood me very much. +

+ You can't ask someone on the other side of the galaxy to accept your... Call request, my majesty. +

+...... Perhaps, but I'll try a few more times. Conrad Coetze's fate now hangs in his hands. +

+ Good luck, then, Your Majesty. Also, I remember you said yesterday that the word fate is very absurd. +

"Yes, my friend."

A giant in gold armor opened his eyes and said. "But, at some point, it does exist."