I don't know when one day, when, at the very edge of the human race, there will be an extra city.

The people who only know Moge call him Sin City.

Exiled Lands.

Whoever enters this city is a man of the greatest evil.

Seal awakened objects and imprison energy.

Exile to this city.

Guarded by a special person.

Because the resentment in the city is too great, the rules have been changed, and every ten years, one person can come out.

Over time, it was changed to one person per year.

Gradually.

The second generation of the human race has finally grown up and can shelter the younger generations.

Also at this moment...

Outside the Demon Control Pass, Li Mocheng's body turned into dust and dispersed.

Completely disappeared between heaven and earth.

Time seems to be a cycle, the eight awakened ones, the commander of the ink pavilion, and the head of the human race is stable.

The Seven Awakened were scattered and suppressed by Xiaoxiao.

And whenever someone is promoted to the Nine Senses, they will leave quietly, no one knows where they are going, and they are scattered in all corners of the human race.

Maybe it's the uncle who sells breakfast.

Maybe it's the lady who cleans up the streets.

Or maybe it's an old man playing chess in a corner of the park.

But...

As long as the demon domain tears up the convention, there will always be one person who gets up and enters the demon domain, turning the world upside down.

It has become a Terran tradition forever.

Even as more and more people disappear from the human race, even the Demon Domain is not clear how many such people there are.

We can only be cautious, fearful, and vigilant.

Supporting the Pantheistic Religion and causing civil strife among the human race.

At this point in history, the process has gradually slowed down, and the picture has gradually dimmed.

Vaguely, it seems that I also saw the shadow of Zhong Yushu and Sun Yingying.

But the shadow is so faint that it can even make people think it's an illusion.

When he came back to his senses, he found that he had returned to this low mountain, and the road he had taken was only halfway up the mountain.

There is no picture of the road ahead.

The fog cleared.

On the stone steps, a crowd of people appeared.

Or dazed, or at a loss.

Or the eyes are rosy and the fists are clenched.

Mixed emotions.

But the only thing that remains unchanged is the blood in the chest and the burning flame in the heart that will one day burn the prairie fire.

"First, go to history!"

"Train your heart, step on the future!"

"Life is like a road."

"It's up to you how to get there."

"The road ahead is over."

"The road ahead is coming."

Sun Yingying's old voice continued to echo in mid-air.

When the crowd looked again, the ground shook.

The mountains are separated.

The foot is constantly rising, parallel to the top of the mountain.

It's like standing on a cliff.

It is said that the road to the future is under our feet, but there is no road ahead, how to go?

On the cliff, looking at the top of the hill opposite, and some simple brick houses.

A cold wind blew.

Blow out all the fire that has just burned in your chest.

Only reality remains.

In the distance, I could vaguely see Sun Yingying standing on the other side of the mountain, standing with his hands in his hands, obviously old, but his posture was upright, letting the strong wind blow, and he was towering and immovable.

Stand on the edge of a cliff.

The rest of my life was slightly silent.

The figures slowly disappeared from their sight again.

In the end, the rest of his life stepped on the air, even if the abyss was under his feet, but he was still firm.

With the foot falling instantly.

A staircase appears out of thin air at its feet.

This ladder is crystal clear and formed by energy.

Milky.

One foot on it, a little warm.

In the void, a somewhat blurry picture appeared.

In the picture, it is a quaint and vicissitudes of life.

Even at a glance, this city feels a little cold.

Above the city, a plaque is hung.

The word 'Sin City' seems to be stained with blood and wants to be detached from the plaque.

And right at the gate of the city.

A child stood a little dazed, a little lonely, looking around helplessly, as if looking for something.

But in the end nothing came of it.

Aloneness.

Helpless.

Yu Sheng's face was expressionless, and he took the second step without hesitation.

This time, the stairs are still milky white.

But that feeling of warmth is gone.

In place, it is cold.

A biting chill.

Transitions.

A child, who was no more than eight or nine years old, was squatting on the ground, bowing his head, looking curiously.

A transparent silk thread was slowly put away by him, splashing with blood.

In front of him, a person covered his neck in pain, constantly twisting and struggling.

Blood continued to spill down his fingers.

Heavy breathing.

Coarse hair.

The pupils gradually dilate, and the movements of the struggle become smaller and smaller.

And the child just watched and watched the whole time.

Until the person dies completely.

There was no more sound.

"The fishing line cuts the throat down, at the vocal cords, and it will die after a minute of struggle..."

"I guess it's more painful..."

The child is thoughtful.

His eyes turned to another person.

The man fell to the ground on all fours, with fear in his eyes.

"The duration of psychedelics, which has been maintained for the time being... Three hours. ”

With a whisper, the child took an extra dagger in his hand, walked slowly towards the man, squatted down, and put the dagger on the man's neck.

It's like gesturing something.

Long...

The dagger flashed away.

The man's pupils dilated suddenly, and breathing stopped.

"Only this time can you kill with one hit."

"It's so hard..."

The child frowned slightly, got up, and there was no one in front of him, but he kept waving the dagger in his hand at the air.

Again, again.

But in the end, it still seemed a little dissatisfied.

When the child turned to look around, there was a neat row of corpses on the ground.

The only thing they have in common is that they all have a wound on their necks.

The location is subtle.

Not far away, a thin girl of the same age, with great difficulty, dragged a cart and carried the corpses with the boy.

Skillfully groping into their pockets and taking out everything they could eat.

The body was then thrown in the car, and the girl was responsible for pushing the cart and dumping it in a dead man's pit not far away.

The smell of blood seemed to fill the air.

……

The picture is interrupted.

The rest of his life retracted his gaze, without joy or sorrow.

It's as if I'm just looking at a very normal thing.

For him, it's just a learning process...

Once upon a time, learn to kill.

Now, learn to socialize.

It's all just learning, and there's nothing surprising about it.

It was in this state of mind that the rest of my life took the third step.

The milky white staircase is stained with a touch of red.

Vivid red.

Like blood dripping from clear water, it blooms like a flower.

Flirtatious.

The picture appears.

At this time, the rest of his life was already fourteen or fifteen years old.

Although still thin and taciturn.

But walking on the streets of Sin City, most people will subconsciously avoid the eyes of the rest of their lives.

Don't look at him.