In the dark and damp room, Joseph looked at the writing on the wall, and was stunned.

The stench of acid rain had not yet left his room, but another rainstorm had already fallen from the sky.

The rain of Nostramo does not pity the workers, in fact, it does not pity anyone except the nobility.

Therefore, this stench may never leave.

Like the laceration wound left by the factory machine on the palm of his left hand, even if it had healed, the scar would still be there, and the twitching pain that would come from time to time.

Joseph looked at the words and said nothing.

The pitch-black lettering, three lines, took up a small part of the wall made of rotten wood.

The columns were written wide open, with long gaps between each character, and Joseph could understand that, but he couldn't understand what they meant.

However, this did not prevent him from looking over and over again, and then trying to reproduce it on the wall with his finger dipped in acid rain.

Unlike Joseph, Len had a good brain, unlike most of them, and he could remember a lot of things.

For example, the order of the guards in the factory, and how to take advantage of some loopholes to get more food rations. But the fact that he was able to remember these words really surprised Joseph.

He still remembers the shock he was at first hearing the news, and the kind of pleasure that was hidden.

...... In fact, the latter is still fresh in his memory. Even overcame that shock.

He didn't quite understand what that emotion should be called, but he knew what it should be.

He was glad to see them die. Even more enjoyable than receiving a full food ration.

"Joseph!"

Someone was calling out to him at the door again, and Joseph turned his head to see a pale face glistening with sweat in the darkness.

"Dead again!" The visitor lowered his voice and shouted in a low voice.

"Isn't it a purge today?" Joseph asked.

He didn't close the door – in fact, the shanty town doesn't close after the rain unless you want to die of the stench.

"No, no, they didn't do it. It's him! The man waved his arms excitedly. It's him! ”

"How do you know?"

Despite the same excitement, Joseph asked the question: "The Great Purge will kill a lot of people...... Haven't you heard from those old people? They say that a lot of people die every night. ”

"It's different!"

The man shook his head stubbornly, his eyes shining under his dirty black hair. "You know it when you see it, it's definitely him, there will be no mistake!"

“...... Is the column gone? Joseph asked.

He was still hesitant, but he was already getting dressed.

"That's what Lie found! Don't you know, Joseph? He didn't sleep tonight and kept wandering around. ”

"Didn't they bother him?"

"They're dead!"

The man who spoke gave a sickly smile. "From Nington Avenue to North 3rd Block...... They're all dead! The column is now on Nington Avenue! ”

Joseph's eyes widened, and he was silent for a few seconds, then slammed into the crowd and sped away towards the outside of the shantytown.

The rain hit his face with bouts of burning pain, and Joseph didn't care at all.

He had never run as fast as he did today, and his body did not allow him to move like this before. But he didn't care about anything now, he just wanted to see it with his own eyes—and twelve minutes later, Joseph, who was almost collapsing, did see it with his own eyes.

"Eternal Night, O ......"

He muttered to himself, his voice low and broken. Surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, emaciated ghosts staring back at the scene silently under the acid rain, flames blazing, reflected in their dark eyes.

A certain emotion begins to take root.

"Isn't it beautiful?" A voice whispered beside him.

He turned his head and saw the columns.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Lie asked with a smile.

The ruins burned by the flames burned and crackled behind him, and acid rain could not stop them from spreading. From gang quarters, to gloomy alleys...... Flames are everywhere.

The flame burns for a long time.

"I don't know what beauty is." Joseph said. "I just think it'......"

"What do you think?"

"These fire ......" Joseph twisted his head, an inexplicable emotion that made his voice choke.

He wasn't born naturally, he didn't have any relatives — he didn't have any relatives who died because of the gang, and logically he shouldn't have hated them or felt anything about their deaths, but he really wanted to cry right now.

Not a sad cry.

Column looked up, acid rain streaked across his pale face, flames burning, illuminating his dark eyes. After a long time, he whispered.

"So they'll be killed too." He said slowly. "Joseph, they- can you understand? They ......"

The column twists the beginning.

"They're going to die, too." He said in a deep voice.

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

"The Skolewalker family won't let you go!"

A man in a scarlet jacket roared menacingly.

He slumped on the ground, his right hand clutching a long, black object, surrounded by darkness, but the smell of blood was so thick that it seemed to drown a person.

He barked incessantly at the darkness, trying to overpower fear with anger. From the beginning to the end of the killing, all he could hear was the sound of gunfire and the screams of his men, and the true face of the attacker...... He hadn't even seen it.

He had to be like this, or he wouldn't be able to keep his sanity.

"The Skolewalker family...... It has perished. You don't seem to be well-informed, sir. ”

In the dark, someone answered softly. His voice was like a basin of cold water, completely crushing the fire of his anger.

"Well, then, I'll repeat it for you...... The Skolewalker family is gone, just like your gang, all the gangs in Quintus tonight......"

The man trembled and wanted to say something again, but his body betrayed him.

The bitter cold began to spread outward from the darkness, overpowering everything, and even causing his thoughts to come to a near-halt.

Then the man spoke again, in a soft, relaxed tone, and the man began to weep—his instincts were warning him.

"Seventy-two, you know? Your gang is the seventy-second ......"

A chuckle came from the darkness.

"It's an interesting number, it doesn't mean anything, but it represents you - a number, a gang, hundreds of lives......"

"It took me less than ten minutes to get them gone."

"You're scared, aren't you, gentleman in a leather jacket? You don't know what I am, and you don't know how I killed everyone in the hall...... Do you want to know the answer? ”

Before he could answer, the man in the darkness stepped out.

His eyes shone with a cold light, and the man's eyes rolled upward, and he lost consciousness the first moment he saw him, and his mind was completely stripped away, leaving only the sensitive nerves that were extremely fragile.

He began to scream, his right hand spread out, and the object slowly rolled down, and was finally gently picked up by the man in the dark.

"A trigger-type detonator."

He chuckled again. "As a gang leader, you put so many bombs in your room...... I admire you, gentleman in a leather jacket. ”

There was no answer, only screaming.

Carlil walked over slowly, holding the detonator in his hand, and lifted his foot to end the screaming.

Then he stopped laughing.

Standing in the darkness, the tall giant lowered his head and calmly took a deep breath.

Seventy-second.

How many more? Seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five......

He'd already ploughed most of the city, and they still seemed endless.

More importantly...... Carlil is well aware that the gang will not be able to eliminate without solving the core problem.

This is no longer a simple problem that can be solved by killing and killing, in his perspective, gangs are almost equivalent to a kind of cancer, but cancer cells need to be diseased to produce.

Lesions – where is it?

Carlil had the answer, but he didn't have time.

Time.

He said these two words silently, not in Nostramo, not in Gothic, but in another language.

His emotions were unknown at the moment, but they were so obvious that they could almost be seen in his eyes.

However, no one will see it. He doesn't need this emotion to be seen and released.

Carlil was used to keeping everything in his heart, and he didn't want to throw them away—he knew it was a pathology, but he needed that heaviness to feel alive.

Turning around, he left the room. The corridor was wide and high, one of the few buildings where he could walk without bending over. The road was full of corpses, and the expressions of the dead varied, but the blood stained everything red.

Carlil calmly made his way to the elevator shaft, bent down to enter, and then jumped straight off.

The height of the twelfth floor was no longer a buffer for him, and he landed on top of a layer of metal, and then crashed through it to the ground.

The hall was littered with corpses. He looked around and found one special among the dead, and Carlil bent down and pulled an incendiary bomb from the latter's belt.

He didn't need oil to increase the fire, in fact, the body's own grease was enough to spread the fire.

It's ridiculous.

Carlil pressed the button on the top of the Molotov cocktail, chuckled helplessly and walked out the door, then threw it into the pile of corpses with precision. The explosion came in an instant, and the flames followed, burning and crackling.

yes, it's ridiculous. His wry smile gradually turned into an indifferent sneer - this planet actually needs an executioner's killing to have a moment of normalcy.

His hands are full of blood and his hands full of iniquity......

A killer, a monster, a ...... Something that thinks of itself as a person.

Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath, then ruthlessly cut off all his thoughts, leaving only one goal.

In any case, he will put Quintus's gang out of place once and for all tonight. Even if it's just a palliative treatment...... It's better than letting the darkness continue to spread.