40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 19 19. Ring of Fear (two in one, finished)

In a gorgeous room with soft light, Jando Skolevok smiled slowly, and then he put the pocket watch in his arms into his arms.

Just now, twelve hours have passed.

He turned his head, a look of regret appeared on his face. This emotion comes from the scene directly in front of the sofa where he is sitting.

His sister, Irene Skolywok, ​​was standing there, her hands covered in blood.

As for the blood, it came from a hanged man, a former gang member of Crimson Finale.

Or rather, the last gang member to belong to Scarlet Finale.

His blood slowly dripped from the wound on the body, leaving an indelible crimson mark on the carpet that was still spreading.

Blood filled the air

Jando took a deep breath of the blood-smelling air, then stood up and spoke elegantly.

"I don't think you'll get anything useful out of torturing such a madman, my dear sister."

Hearing this, Irene Skolywok turned back and looked at him.

"I also don't think you will end up well if you choose to stay with me shamelessly." Yirenai replied coldly.

"Oh, don't be like this, sister. You and I both know that only the Glory Overseer is reliable in the lower nest now. Do I really have to run out and seek help from other gangs? I'm not as stupid as Lena."

"She's not stupid," Irene said. "You're the one who's stupid, Jando."

".This is really a sad comment, my respected sister."

Zhan Duo covered his face pretending to be sad, but the dark eyes exposed between his fingers were full of malice.

"I have always had admiration for you, but why do you despise me so much?"

"There are many reasons, Jando."

Irena looked at him and answered calmly.

"Pretentious, pretentious, and pretentious. Although these shortcomings are normal for a son of a nobleman. But there is only one thing about you that I can't stand."

"Well, because I prefer some excellent ingredients from the lower nest?" Jando asked tentatively.

"No, because you're stupid."

Irene Skolevok replied coldly. "You're stupid enough to think I planned this attack."

Jando raised his eyebrows slowly, his smile returning as he lowered his hand. At this moment, you can't see the fear on his face that he had twelve hours ago.

At some point, fear is time-sensitive.

"But, my sister, you cannot deny that this is such a coincidence."

"coincide?"

"Yes, sister, let's not mention how that person bypassed the Glory Warlord's guard post without being detected. Let's just talk about the suggestion you made."

"If we do what you said and spread out in the lower nest and escape separately. There is no doubt that you will be the one who can survive to the end, my sister."

"As for Lena, I am more pessimistic. I think she may be dead now."

Zhan Duo smiled gracefully, not feeling sad about the death of his fictitious blood relative, but instead there was a sense of joy spreading on his face.

He had changed his clothes and even taken a shower. The embarrassed look he had twelve hours ago had completely disappeared from his body.

At this moment, in this room that was so gorgeously decorated that it was no different from the palace in the previous nest, Jando Skolevok behaved as usual.

He walked naturally and gently and came to Yirena's side.

"My respected sister, I know your abilities. I have always known that my father's tolerance of me stems from the similarity between me and him, but his trust in you is beyond my reach. And you took advantage of him just right. Trust, isn't it?

"Don't blame me for your incompetence, Jando. And don't blame me for things I didn't do."

Irene stared at him calmly. "It was you who decided to waste your study and practice time on tasting flesh and blood. You have ruined yourself, so don't say anything more."

"Maybe, maybe it is, but, my sister."

Jando Skolevok sneered and spread his arms. "I may not be as good as you in every aspect, but on this path of exploring the art of flesh and blood, you cannot be better than me."

He stretched out his right hand and asked Irene for the tortured blade: "Please allow me to show you something, my respected sister."

"I don't have time to waste with you on that kind of thing, Jando."

Irene said coldly. "Torture is only a means, not an end. You are on the wrong track."

"Moreover, the mind of this slave from Crimson Finale was completely broken long before the Glory Overseer found him. Do you think you can dig out the spirit of others from flesh and blood with just a blade?"

Jando shrugged, appearing very calm.

"Maybe I really can, sister. You know, I learned a few tricks of the Lohars family from some ancient books."

".You idiot."

After saying these words, a clear emotion finally appeared on Irene's face - she glared at Jando angrily and spoke coldly.

"You act so calm and relaxed. Let me guess, it's because you think we can get more support from the family, right? Then you can go back and tell your father the truth you imagined?"

"Isn't it?" Jando asked. "There's no way our family will give up on us, sister."

He smiled again, and there was a sense of superiority spreading on his face that he thought he had seen through everything. He blinked proudly and made the last word very long.

Irena took a deep breath.

She spoke in a deep voice.

"No, Jando. This is not a conspiracy on my part."

"Father sent us here to deal with the death of the coroner. This matter has affected the face of the Skolywock family. And this matter has nothing to do with me at all, and I will never do this."

"The reputation of the family is more important than anything else, Zando. Father gave us the Iron Pride and forty private soldiers, and also gave us the help of the Glorious Overseer - a twenty-five-story spire with thousands of members. A gathering of loyal servants.”

"What else do you think we can get from our father? Our value is not as high as you think. Yes, my father spent twenty years training us, but he still has many twenty years to kill."

The smile on Zhan Duo's face slowly dissipated, and he tilted his head slightly, trying to stay calm.

But Yirenai continued, as if she wanted to reveal all her dislike for him over the years, and she rarely lost her usual calmness.

Her face was flushed and her features were contorted. It looked angry and scary.

Unlike Jando, she always remembered the encounter twelve hours ago, and the fear in her heart had swelled to a point where it was almost swallowing up her reason.

And Jando's behavior just ignited this fear.

"You took a shower, changed your clothes, and then sat in the false palace built by the slaves, thinking that everything was my conspiracy?"

"But don't forget, twelve hours ago you were just a loser who collapsed on the ground and was so frightened that he was almost incontinent! Jando! You are just a loser!"

Yirena sneered loudly, her voice echoing in the room. Zhan Duo's face turned blue and white, and he was speechless.

I don't know if it was a coincidence, but at the moment when her laughter broke out, behind her, the survivor from the Scarlet Finale who was tortured to the point of dying, also opened his eyes at the same time.

There is nothing in the dark eyes, no consciousness, no reason, no desire for life, and no resistance to death.

There was only a strange calmness, and then a flash of cold blue light disappeared.

He raised his head and looked at the blood descendants of the Skolaywock family. Then he opened his mouth with his lips cut off and many of his teeth pulled out, and sang softly in a hoarse voice.

Low, long, and obviously gloomy. The melody is soft, but it feels like a blade rubbing against the delicate skin of the neck.

Irene Skolywok shuddered, and her laughter suddenly stopped.

She turned her head in disbelief, the anger on her face gradually being replaced by fear. Zhan Duo's expression suddenly changed, but in just a short moment, the memory of twelve hours ago came back to him.

The killings in the heavy rain, corpses everywhere, the cold, and the gaze of monsters.

In a daze, he seemed to hear that whisper again.

"run."

"no no."

Jando Skolevok murmured and stumbled forward.

Fear returns.

He grabbed the sharp blade from Irene's hand, tremblingly came to the survivor, and then raised the sharp blade high.

"Stop!" Jando yelled. "Stop singing!"

The survivor remained indifferent, his head swaying slightly. He was bruised and covered in blood, but he was chanting softly.

Jando swung the sharp blade in his hand, and it accurately penetrated the survivor's chest and abdomen, bringing up a handful of blood flowers.

Then, he twisted the blade fiercely, and broken flesh poured out from the gap created by the sinister barb.

Jando's eyes twitched as he stared at it all, eager to hear the scream. He's used this little trick often in the past, with good results every time.

But, this time, no.

The survivors were unmoved.

The song continued, pouring from the broken face like his flesh and life.

Jando let go of his hand tremblingly, and then stepped back—backing up until he hit the wall. He raised his head and leaned it against the wall, his face suddenly turning red after that.

He turned his head and asked with a low growl.

"Irene Skolywok, ​​what are you crazy about?! Make him stop! I knew you did all this. You washed his brain and put this song into it. ,right?!"

His sister didn't answer.

His sister just showed an expression that Jando had never seen before in his life. Looking from Jando's point of view, he could only see the side face of Irene. But that's enough.

He saw a crying eye.

"you"

In an instant, Zhan Duo felt cold all over.

He originally thought that this was just a conspiracy between Irene Skolevok and the Glory Warlord. Similar things happened frequently. In the history of the nobles, killing and killing was as simple as eating and drinking.

but

It is impossible for the initiator to be so fearful when faced with a situation that he himself created.

"It's coming," murmured Irene Skolywok. "It's coming."

"Impossible! Just follow the story you made up! That thing said twelve hours, but twelve hours have passed!"

Zando roared and took out the pocket watch from his arms, and threw the valuable treasure fiercely in front of Irene.

"Look, look! Look! Twelve hours have passed!"

He screamed. "Stop this farce, sister! I won't compete with you for the black stripes! I was wrong!"

Under Zando's pleading eyes, Irene Scolewock slowly picked up the pocket watch, and then she closed it.

She turned her head, and on her twisted face, a smile that was torn to pieces by fear was blooming.

"Why do you think so." She sobbed. "Can I do such a thing?"

Zando's reason was finally completely shattered. He roared and rushed towards the source of the song, and pulled out the blade on his body.

——

"On the left!"

"No, that's not right, it's on the right!"

The ghost jumped and dodged the bullet.

If it was a laser gun, he might not dodge. However, live ammunition weapons would always shoot the corners of his clothes into his flesh. If he did not remove the bullet in time, there would be a risk of infection.

This was quite annoying. After all, the bullet could only be removed after the war. By that time, his wounds had long been healed, and the only way to remove the bullet was to cut open his flesh again.

The ghost was not afraid of pain, but he didn't like pain either.

The conversations of the hunted targets sounded extremely clear in his ears. He could even simulate the specific location of the other party at the moment based on the direction of the sound. Khalil once said that this was a precious talent, and the ghost didn't quite understand it.

Can't other people do this?

While thinking this, the ghost jumped high and jumped onto the ceiling.

His sharp fingernails and his superhuman strength allowed him to easily cling to everyone's head. Then, he quickly adjusted his posture and jumped out in the next second.

Like a monster falling from the sky, the ghost opened his hands and tore the gangs' defenses apart in the process of rushing forward. The wailing was loud, and the gunshots suddenly weakened. Then, the ghost heard someone screaming.

"Behind! Behind!" The man screamed frantically. "There's another one behind! God!"

Ah, it's Khalil.

The ghost tilted his head happily, and then jumped up again. He focused his attention and looked behind him. Time seemed to slow down at this moment, allowing him to see Khalil's figure clearly.

He dodged left and right, as if gliding in the crowd. Khalil did not dodge any bullets, but those roaring bullets seemed to be dodging him, and none of them hit him.

He rushed forward, waving the blade continuously, and each swing could take a life. The cold blue light bloomed under the hood of his cloak. His movements were so fast that the light almost became a long straight line.

Seeing this scene, the happiness on the ghost's face disappeared for a moment.

Why do you have to use this kind of power, Khalil? He thought silently.

Five minutes later, the killing was over.

He shook his hands to let the blood and flesh fragments fall out from the gaps between his nails. The ghost came to Khalil, who looked at his hands and asked, "Where is the knife you made?"

"It's broken"

"Broken?"

"It's not very durable." The ghost said. "It broke."

"It's okay, I'll make you a better one another day"

"Really?"

"I didn't lie to you."

"Okay! Thank you, Khalil!"

Khalil smiled silently, and had no enthusiasm to hit the ghost for the time being. The word "another day" has a kind of ambiguity that cannot be described in detail in the human context.

As for now

He looked up at the ceiling, and the blue light in his eyes suddenly dimmed.

At this moment, his vision suddenly rose and came to a room on the top floor of the spire.

He could see a woman who was sobbing, as if she had accepted her fate, and a man who was constantly waving a knife in front of him, muttering to himself, covered in blood and looking crazy.

Both targets collapsed

It was really scary.

With a sneer, Khalil lowered his head and said to the ghost who was counting the bodies: "Our work today is almost over, ghost, before that, I have a question to ask you."

".Ah?"

"What do you think of fear?" Khalil asked softly.

The ghost blinked and quickly gave his answer. Although he didn't understand why Khalil asked this question, he had no reason not to answer.

"A good weapon?" The ghost said cautiously. "It is very effective, very effective for everyone and always works quickly. Most people will be afraid when they see me."

"What else?"

"And.? Uh, it-should be used carefully?" The ghost said hesitantly. "I'm sorry, Khalil, but I always feel that. fear is different from fear."

He secretly glanced at Khalil, who waited patiently, without any impatience or disapproval on his expression.

So the ghost was relieved: "That's it, Khalil, that's what I think."

"Your understanding is very good, ghost, in fact, very good."

Khalil smiled slightly. "Fear is indeed a weapon that needs to be treated with care. We need to carefully select who it should be used on, and of course, how to use it."

"Way?"

"There are many ways to instill fear in people, like you know the 23 different ways rats cook. There are many ways and we have to be careful and choose carefully."

"I don't quite understand." Ghost said honestly. "But I will write it down. I will understand it later, right?"

"certainly."

"Really?"

"Of course it's true." Khalil said as he walked towards the exit of the bloody hall.

The spire of the Glory Overseers has a complex set of self-propelled elevators, which were destroyed by Khalil at the beginning. Therefore, although it is funny to say it, they have to take the stairs to reach the twenty-fifth floor.

The final layer.

Ghost followed closely behind, and after a brief silence, he spoke again.

"Khalil?"

"Huh? It's okay, don't talk too much, Ghost, we are working."

"Oh, but, do you remember the twenty-three ways? Which one do you think will be the most delicious?"

"."

“I think braised pork should be good”

"well"

"Khalil?"

".Um?"

"Why are you sighing?"

".Fry it, fry the rat. That's it, stop talking, ghost."

"okay!"

——

The cold wind was blowing, and in the early morning of Nostramo, a group of workers were on their way to work.

Their clothes were thin and their expressions were dull. No one's face was alive with life, and no one could walk with his head raised. They are thin and move slowly, and many of them need to stop and rest for a while even after walking a certain distance.

Eighteen hours of work is enough to destroy everything, not to mention the illness that comes with it.

Although, yes - the factory has a holiday every six days, but that's just to squeeze harder, don't expect the foremen to be very kind.

During holidays, wages and nutritional supplements will be deducted.

The cold wind ravaged their thin bodies and wills, so these numb people spontaneously got together, walked side by side, and joined forces to keep warm.

Their breaths mingled with each other, smelly and dazed, and the white mist they exhaled escaped in the air. Their eyes were dull and desperate, filled with a kind of indifference to life.

There were many gang members on the street, but no one paid attention to them.

——Such a person cannot even be regarded as a commodity.

Walking, walking, they still had three more blocks to cross before reaching the factory. They crossed the dirty streets, crossed the dark red ground where sewage flowed, and passed a tall spire amidst the curses of the gangs.

Then one of the workers looked up. His neck was sore and he needed this method to relieve the pressure on his bones. Then, just after raising his head, he suddenly stopped.

"What is that?" he muttered.

His companions moved on indifferently and passed him. Not many people paid attention to him, only a few people stood there like him.

They all invariably rubbed their eyes after a brief gaze, trying to confirm whether what they saw was real.

Their mouths opened in disbelief.

They saw two richly dressed people hanging above the ground floor entrance of the towering spire. The neon lights of the spire and the nearby incandescent lights confirmed this clearly to them.

They also saw that there were large gaps in the throats of these two people. Blood was spreading down the gap.

Surrounding the two horrified corpses, there was a line of bloody characters.

The workers were illiterate and couldn't understand what it meant, but that didn't stop them from understanding the identities of the two men.

All nesters will learn this in their short lives and remember it firmly.

If you dress luxuriously, you are a noble.

The nobles are no different from gods.

At this moment, many questions appeared in their minds, their bodies began to tremble slightly, and a strange look began to bloom on their lifeless faces.

However, they did not stay long and soon left again, embarking on the road to the factory.

They need jobs and food. And among the few workers who witnessed the death of the gods, one person remembered all the shapes of those characters.

He couldn't read, but he remembered them.

The cold wind is biting, and the morning in Nostramo is still the same as the night. No one knows what will happen every night, and no one knows what this event will bring.

At the top of the spire, two shadows disappeared quietly.

This chapter is recommended to be used with Man with a Harmonica, remember to look for the older version.

In addition, although the Tattooed Earl is indeed worthy of death, it does not make much sense to describe the process of torturing him. In this timeline, he is just a damn young man, not the person who completely broke the Night Lord.