Philosophy is one of the triggers for spiritual problems, but the reality is even more terrifying.

Carlil lowered his head, and a foul smell mixed in his nose came from his nostrils.

He knew where the smell came from – in a shantytown three hundred meters away, workers were burning corpses.

The scrawny corpses of workers coughing to death on hardbed beds by the side of the road would be piled up and burned one after the other.

When burned, human muscles and tissues resemble Caryl's memories of beef, while fat feels greasy and skin crackles like burning charcoal.

Hair smells the worst, like a smell of sulfur that is several times stronger. This process usually starts with charcoal and sulfur odors, and only then muscle tissue. Finally, there are the internal organs, at which point the smell becomes unusually foul.

Carlil looked away, and the blazing fire disappeared from his sight.

The workers don't eat the corpses, but that doesn't mean no one has tried it, just because the people who ate it have since died.

To this day, they are just eating the nutritional paste that was distributed to them based on this picture. Hundreds of shadows crumbled in the fires, and hundreds of dark shadows shared the ointment in the ruined shantytowns or streets.

This kind of picture, as long as you watch it once, you will not forget it.

He turned, leaped, and began to run through the darkness. The seven-day countdown to the Great Purge has begun, and the gangs are starting to get more and more agitated, especially in Quintus.

The streets are filled with minions patrolling their territory, and chiefs are nervously talking in basements or buildings.

The existence of the vengeful spirit is no longer a secret, and Carlil has been more high-profile lately, even deliberately leaving behind a lot of evidence of his existence.

However, this is not what the gangs are most concerned about at the moment. The cause of their unrest stems from the fall of the Skolewalker family.

The Skolywalker family, who had intended to take control of the entire Hive once and for all, were destroyed - the gang learned of it through their own information channels.

At a time when the vast majority of large and medium-sized gangs have pledged allegiance to the Skolewalker family, this explosive and terrible fact is heartbreaking.

Of course, bad things happen one after the other.

It's not that there are no gangs that try to switch to other big families, but the news they get has caused everyone to fall into a terrible silence.

There is no such thing as a 'big family' anymore.

All the families who could promise the future to the gang died one night, and the remaining nobles were busy biting each other and fighting for territory.

The Upper Nest had never been more chaotic, and the once quiet night was now completely torn apart, and the nobles dressed in silk and powdered grease were armed with guns, excitedly snatching the titles and positions that had been vacated.

As for the purge of the lower nest, and the thirst of the gangs......

Who cares?

Even the gangs themselves did not know if the purge would take place seven days later. They knew what day it was, and they had been preparing intensively during this time, but ......

If the aristocratic families who were the initiators disappeared, would it be necessary to hold this event?

If they come and ask Carlil, Kalil will tell them, yes.

It's necessary.

He jumped over the silver minaret and patted Midnight Wraith's thirteenth gargoyle as a greeting.

The iron monster watched silently in the darkness as he vanished, and half a minute later, a cloudy drop of rain fell from high in the sky and shattered above its head. There was a faint sound of gunfire coming from three blocks away.

The gargoyle was indifferent.

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

It's raining.

This incident annoyed Charles, who was in charge of the patrol, he didn't like rainy days, never did. Although it rained almost five days a week, Quintus just didn't like it.

In the past, he would complain about it to his only friend.

"Rain makes the air very humid, don't you think, Mao?"

He would babble on and on about it until Mao couldn't resist pointing a gun at him to shut up, and he would shut up in satisfaction.

He loved the way his only friend pointed a gun at him, and for no reason, he just liked it.

Thinking of this, the pale young man smiled nervously.

A strange muscle twitch on his chemically damaged face was born in the next second, and his smile began to grow larger and wider, until it became a terrible spasm.

"Damn ......"

He grunted, and without hesitation, punched himself in the nose - a horrific act that stopped the spasms in his face, in addition to causing his nose to crook and bleeding.

Charles shook his head helplessly, took a needle out of his pocket, and injected himself.

Little by little, the cloudy chemicals disappeared into the needle, and with it came sensitive senses and confused perceptions. Time was stretched out in his perception, and Charles unconsciously shook his head, leaned against the wall and began to bang the back of his head against the wall.

If he had rewind the clock to a year ago, he wouldn't have liked the injections of the drug, which he had named, but he had to.

Injecting it, and surviving all subsequent symptoms, is the only condition for joining his gang. A year later, if he didn't inject a fast passenger every six hours, he would have muscle cramps.

"Mao, I hate the rain." He leaned against the wall and muttered.

Even though he was hitting the wall with the back of his head, Charles didn't feel any pain at all.

He continued to grunt, a muffled voice coming out of his throat, his eyes rolled up, and he leaned himself against the edge of the wall almost unconsciously—he almost forgot who he was.

Skaire is like that, it will make you a person who forgets who his last name is. His fingers began to twitch nervously, and a familiar touch returned, the touch of his first murder.

He slit a person's throat with a knife and then ripped it apart. The sticky touch of flesh left Charles indifferent, he just wanted to do it quickly......

Wait, who is Charles?

"Mao, I want to die so much, it's really boring to join a gang."

He heard a man speak in a deep voice. "What does it mean to kill but to kill, to kill? I just want to dress better and eat better. I don't want to hit the fast ......"

"Kuaike?" A voice rang out.

The man named Charles nodded unconsciously, his nose bleeding. They gurgled out, mingled with the rain, streaked across his shattered face, and stretched down.

His consciousness and eyesight had been shattered by the Speeder to a point where it was almost irreversible, and he would not return to normal until the effects of the drug had passed.

Therefore, he had absolutely no idea who was talking to him.

"Kuaike......" said Shattered Consciousness. Kuaike, I hate it so much. ”

"I think I can probably see why." The voice said in a deep voice.

The rain poured down, smashing and falling apart on the buildings overhead, making a loud noise. The dirt on the road surface is gradually washed away by the acid rain, but it doesn't take long for the acid rain to form new dirt.

The cycle repeats itself.

"I want to die, Mao." Broken consciousness said. "I can't live anymore, I don't want to kill, I really don't want to."

"Do you really want to die?" The voice asked. "The process of death is not wonderful, and its ending is not a resting for people like you."

"Who's talking?" Broken consciousness asked suspiciously.

He was still hitting the wall, the back of his head was bleeding, and the cracks in the masonry were full of his blood.

"Does it matter?" The voice asked. "You just want to die."

"Ah, yes......"

The shattered consciousness replied unconsciously - he had no idea where he was at the moment, and he didn't know who was talking to him. However, he did not lie.

He was so dazed that he couldn't lie.

"I want to die." He said. "Anyone can kill me. Kill the Kuike again. ”

"Kuike is a chemical agent, it has no life."

The deep voice said in the rain. "I can only kill living things."

"Life?"

"Life."

"What about me? Do I have life? ”

In the pouring rain, Carlil stared at the person who asked the question.

He had a pale face, and the bruises left by the violence were so evident on it. Blood was still dripping down his nose, his eyes were blank, and nothing was present in his dark eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched nervously, and he kept hitting the wall with the back of his head.

A microcosm.

"You used to have." Carlil said.

He held out his hand, and a slightly dull sound followed. A corpse fell to the ground like this, he was still under the influence of the Quicker before he died, and he would not know who killed him.

In fact, he didn't know anything in the first place.

Carlil looked up, glanced at the scattered sky cut by stacked buildings and neon signs, and left the alley.

He's dealing with four gangs tonight, a number that's been carefully designed. He'll finish everything in six hours and finish the day.

In fact, if someone had investigated the trajectory of his movements, they would have discovered one thing.

Ever since two of the sons of the Skolewalker family were hoisted from the Tower of the Glory Overseers, gangs have quietly disappeared every day along the twenty-five-story tower.

If the current pace continues, there will be no gangs within four blocks of the tower on the day of the purge.

Efficiency is always important. Carlil thought.

He smashed through the rain curtain and stepped into a low building. There was a vibration of music under his feet, and the voices were buzzing. A narrow aisle spread down in front of him, the walls filthy, graffiti made up of blood and dirt glittering on it.

The stench caused by excessive crowds of people fills the air, and when combined with the smell of acid rain, it creates a terrible smell that is quite impactful.

Carlile seemed unmoved.

With a flash of cold blue light in his eyes, the walls began to distort, and the building materials that made them up melted in a matter of seconds, turning into a boiling hot liquid, but the building's infrastructure was unaffected.

Carlil closed his eyes.

Now, the hallway can accommodate him.

Opening his eyes, he walked inside.

The night is still long, but it won't be long.