Robert Killiman clutched his anger and remained silent.

His reason was being swallowed up by this emotion, and in the end, the long tug-of-war between the two sides finally prevailed with anger. Reason sighed and went back to the corner and curled up, only anger remained.

He stood behind bulletproof glass, staring at the giant lying on the medical table, not saying a word, just silence. Marius Gage stood beside his primordial body, feeling a cold solemnity.

He knew that his original was angry at the moment, and Gage regretted that he couldn't fully empathize with him.

He knew that there was no real empathy in the world, not even Astarte and their original form, but that didn't stop him from trying to go further.

He wanted to get as close as possible to his original body, in every way.

So Marius Gage spoke, and began to explore in a way that his original body allowed: "The doctors say he refuses to use anesthetics. ”

"I can see it." Kiliman replied in a very soft voice. "Pain is also inevitable for us, Marius, so I can see what is going on with his trembling."

Gage was silent for a moment, a question swirling in his mind. Questioning is like an arrow with a bow, and it is impossible to expect this arrow not to be fired.

Half a minute later, he shot the arrow.

"Are you angry?"

"Of course." Kiriman did not hide his emotions. "The commander of the second company of Miro reported to me about the laboratory in the city of Daishea, and together with some of the texts in it, I can probably guess what fate has befallen my brother through the translation of the contemplatives."

He turned his head, and there was an emotion brewing in his blue eyes that Gage couldn't understand.

"It's called the Butcher's Nail." Kiriman said in a calm manner. "A psionic surgical implant that passes through the skull and reaches the brain, replacing some of the functions provided by the nerves and cerebral cortex."

"It amplifies the victim's negative emotions, such as anger or madness. After undergoing this surgery, the average person will completely become a blood-thirsting madman at an extremely fast rate, and eventually die from the destruction of their brains by fighting or nails, which can range from three to five months. My brother is different, he's a primordial. The original body's ability to recover is far beyond that of ordinary people, and his brain is being damaged by the nail every second. But he's also healing. ”

Killiman lowered his head and threw something from deep in his throat that didn't quite look like laughter. Then, he asked, "Do you know what that means?" ”

Gage felt a parchment in his throat, and after a dozen seconds, he replied, "Does that mean he's gradually merging with that thing?" ”

"No, that means the nail is eating away and replacing him." Kiriman said solemnly. "Those things are going to get deeper and deeper, and they're going to want more. They can have irreversible effects on his brain in the process. ”

"I don't know much about medicine, Gage, but I know what the brain means to humans."

Gage turned his head to look at the giant who was roaring on the operating table for wound suturing, medical staff coming and going around him, mortal hands trembling. There is no way they can not be afraid.

But

"But he seems to be able to control himself, my lord." Gage said. "At least he didn't have the same thirst for killing as the people in those sources."

Killiman didn't answer the question, he could vaguely guess who it was, but it was difficult to explain to his warlord what Karil Lohals had done to his brother in the cave.

Actually, Kiliman himself didn't quite understand it.

When he got there, he saw two giants covered in bruises.

His brother Angron roared, shielding the instructor that Kiliman had invited behind him, vigilantly refusing anyone approaching, even temporarily incapacitating the four Ultramarines in the process.

If it weren't for the gladiators who arrived ten minutes later and shouted Angeland's name.

"My lord, Instructor Carlil is awake."

A voice came from behind him. Kiriman didn't need to turn around to know whose voice it was, there were three medical halls on board the Makurag's Flare, and only one person was in charge of them.

He turned, greeting, and kept his most basic demeanor: "Thank you for the notice, Dollo." ”

"It's my job." Valentus Dollo nodded calmly. "Also, he wants to ask you to come over, he has something important to tell you."

——

Killiman walked into the room, and the owner of the room was already standing up naked, now looking thoughtfully at the new wounds on his body in a mirror.

"How's he doing?" Through the reflection of the mirror, Carlil asked, looking at Killiman's face.

"It's calm." Kiliman said. But he refused to use anesthetics, as well as other injectable drugs that were good for his body. My medical team had to move in a contemplative to translate for him on the spot. ”

"Are you still calm?"

Carlil smiled and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I took it upon myself, Robert."

"Nope." Kiriman denied his apology and refused to accept it. "You saved four Ultramarines, and Sergeant Tampa Föss and the other three survivors of his squad want to thank you in person."

"I just did what normal people would do."

"I'll arrange a meeting."

Carlil smiled helplessly, Killiman now knew what to do with him.

"So, what about the six victims?"

"They have been buried." Kiriman said solemnly. "The genetic seeds have also been taken out by the apothecary, and when they return to Macurag, their will will continue."

Carlil sighed slowly.

"The explosion." He narrowed his eyes. "It came very suddenly, Robert, and it didn't even take more than two minutes from the explosion to the level of fire that ignited."

"My legion is already investigating the matter. However, according to Sergeant Tampa Foss, a minute before the explosion began, he felt a psionic coldness. I sent a think tank to investigate, and in the report they sent back, it was clearly mentioned that there were traces of psionic spells left at the scene, and the caster intended to cover it up, but his level was not enough to completely cover up the evidence. ”

Carlil nodded thoughtfully, turned around, and little by little put on the white shirt provided by the Ultramarines. Looking at his relaxed appearance, it was difficult for Killiman to connect the man leaning against the rock wall, covered in blood, with him at this moment.

"What the hell is going on?" Robert Kiliman asked.

His tone was resolute, apparently expecting that Carlil would tell him riddle after riddle again, and he wanted to use this attitude to illustrate his desire for the truth.

However, Carlil didn't go around in circles with him, at least not this time.

"Your brother has gone berserk." Carlil said calmly. "He wanted to rebel against that thing, I wanted to help him, but it backfired."

"But you're hurt." Killiman frowned. "Aside from him, there are the guards, and I don't think they can hurt you."

"You're making a subtle accusation against your brother," Carlil smirked. "But it's true. But not all of these scars were caused by him. ”

"What do you mean?"

Carlil pondered in silence for a moment.

His performance caused Robert Killeman to feel a momentary unease – what could make Carlil Lohals so cautious?

His brows began to tighten tighter, and so did the emotions in his heart, churning until they became a torrent that almost broke through his reason once again.

"People sometimes get out of control." After a moment, Carlil said in a soft voice. "While in the cave, there was a moment when your brother was completely out of control. But it's not like ordinary people, who are temporarily controlled by the upsurge of emotions that control their ability to think. Actually, I think "

He paused thoughtfully.

"In that moment, he became anger itself." He said in a deep voice. "Not mastered, but replaced, and in that sense, I'm lucky."

"Good luck?" Kiriman felt a pang of absurdity. "You were almost killed by him."

Carlil shook his head.

"It's it." He said. "He wouldn't do such a thing, you didn't see him trying to kill himself because he refused to hurt others, Robert forget it, don't mention it, I'll write you a report afterwards."

He smiled.

Killiman stared at him gravely—glaring at him, to be exact.

"A report won't solve my problem, and besides, how can I write a report like this?" He clasped his hands together and shook his head.

"Skim over this, since you have no problem as one of the parties involved, as for the thing behind his head, I have already found out, and it is called the Butcher's Nail. A psionic surgical implant used by slave owners to torture slave gladiators. The Angelon model, on the other hand, is specially made and is more ferocious than the regular version. ”

"Can it be removed surgically?" Carlil asked briefly.

If you want to guarantee his life, it's almost impossible." Robert Killiman shook his head in pain, which was one of the reasons why he had been so angry before.

According to a gladiator named Karelian, the nail had been in him for seven months. The scans also confirmed his claim that Angeland's entire cerebral cortex had been punctured by the sharp cables that had been extended from the thing, and even some of it had reached his spine."

Carlil nodded thoughtfully, slowly.

"I see." He said. "Let's meet him, then, Robert, and I can be a translator for you or something."

He chuckled and acted lightheartedly, which Kiliman was puzzled by but agreed to his offer.

And 5k

(End of chapter)