40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 57 57. Great Purge (3)

In the dark and damp room, Joseph looked at the words on the wall and was in a daze.

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

The rain of Nostramo had no mercy on the workers, in fact it had no mercy on anyone but the nobility.

Therefore, this stench may never leave.

Just like the tear left by the factory machine on the palm of his left hand, even if it has healed, the scar will still remain, as well as the twitching pain that will come from time to time.

Joseph looked at the words and said nothing.

The black words, three lines, occupied a small part of the wall made of rotten wood.

The columns were written wide apart, with long gaps between each character. Joseph could understand this, but he could not understand what they meant.

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

Unlike Joseph, Lie has a very good brain. Unlike most of them, he can remember a lot of things.

For example, the order of guard shifts in the factory, or how to find loopholes to get more food rations. But Joseph was really surprised that he could remember these words.

He still remembered his shock when he first heard the news, as well as some hidden pleasure.

In fact, it was the latter that stuck in his memory. Even overpowering the shock.

He didn't quite know what that emotion was called, but he knew what it was.

It gave him pleasure to see them die. Even more pleasant than receiving a full food ration.

"Joseph!"

Someone called him at the door again. Joseph turned his head and saw a pale face flashing with sweat in the dark.

"Another death!" The visitor lowered his voice and shouted in a deep voice.

"Isn't there a big purge today?" Joseph asked.

He didn't close the door - in fact, shantytowns don't close after it rains, unless you want to die of the stench.

"No, no, it wasn't them. It was him!" The man waved his arms excitedly. "It's him!"

"how do you know?"

Although equally excited, Joseph still asked a question: "A lot of people will die in the Great Purge. Haven't you heard what those old people said? They said that a lot of people will die every night."

"Different!"

The man shook his head stubbornly, his eyes sparkling under his dirty black hair. "You will know after seeing it, it is definitely him, there is no mistake!"

"Have you left?" Joseph asked.

Although he was still hesitant, he had already begun to put on his clothes.

"He was the one who found it! Don't you know, Joseph? He didn't sleep tonight and kept wandering around."

"Didn't they give him any trouble?"

"They're all dead!"

The speaker gave a sickly smile. "They're all dead from Ninton Avenue to North Third Block! They're on Ninton Avenue right now!"

Joseph's eyes widened. He was silent for a few seconds, then he slammed away the person and rushed out of the shantytown.

The rain hit his face, causing waves of burning pain, but Joseph didn't care at all.

He has never run as fast as he does today, and in the past, his body did not allow him to move like this. But he didn't want to care about anything now. He just wanted to witness it with his own eyes. Twelve minutes later, Joseph, who almost collapsed, did witness it with his own eyes.

"Eternal Night is on top"

He muttered to himself, his voice low and broken. There were crowds of onlookers all around, and the emaciated ghost figures raised their heads and silently stared at this scene under the acid rain. The blazing flames were reflected in their dark eyes.

A certain emotion begins to take root.

"Isn't it beautiful?" a voice asked softly beside him.

He turned his head and saw Li.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Lie asked with a smile.

The scorched ruins burned and crackled behind him, and acid rain couldn't stop them from spreading. From gang dens to eerie alleys, flames are everywhere.

The flame burns long-lasting.

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

"What do you think?"

"These fires." Joseph turned his head, an inexplicable emotion making his voice choked up.

He was not born naturally, he has no relatives - nor did he have any relatives who died because of gangs. Logically speaking, he should not hate them or feel anything about their deaths, but now he really wants to cry.

Not a sad cry.

Lie raised his head, acid rain streaked across his pale face, and flames burned, illuminating his dark eyes. After a long time, he spoke in a low voice.

"So they will be killed too," he said slowly. "Joseph, they—can you understand? They."

Twist the beginning of the column.

"They will die too," he said lowly.

——

"The Skolaywock family will not let you go!"

A man in a scarlet jacket roared ferociously.

He collapsed on the ground, holding a long black object tightly in his right hand. There was darkness all around, but the smell of blood was so strong that it seemed like it could drown a person.

He barked into the darkness, trying to overpower his fear with anger. From the beginning to the end of the killing, he could only hear the sound of gunfire and the screams of his men, and he never even saw the true face of the attacker.

He had to be, otherwise he couldn't stay sane.

"The Skolywok family has been destroyed. It seems that your information is not very well informed, sir."

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

"Then, let me repeat it for you. The Scolewock family has been destroyed, just like your gang, just like all the gangs in Quintus tonight."

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

The bone-chilling cold began to spread outward from the darkness, overwhelming everything and almost stopping his thoughts.

Then, the man spoke again, with a soft tone, as relaxed as chatting, but the man began to shed tears - his instinct was warning him.

"The seventy-second one, you know? Your gang is the seventy-second one"

A chuckle came from the darkness.

"This number is interesting, it doesn't refer to anything, but it can represent you - a number, a gang, hundreds of lives."

"It only took me less than ten minutes to make them disappear."

"Are you scared, Mr. 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 came out.

There was a cold light in his eyes, and the man's eyes rolled upwards. He lost consciousness the first moment he saw him, his mind was completely stripped away, leaving only extremely fragile and sensitive nerves.

He began to scream loudly and spread his right hand. The object slowly rolled down and was finally picked up gently by the person in the dark.

"A trigger detonator."

He chuckled again. "As a gang leader, you actually planted so many bombs in your room. I admire you, Mr. Leather Jacket."

There was no answer, only screams.

Khalil walked over slowly, held the detonator in his hand, raised his feet, and ended his screams.

Then he stopped laughing.

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

Seventy-two.

How many more are there? Seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five

He had plowed through most of the city, and they still seemed endless.

The more critical point is that Khalil knows very well that if the core problem is not solved, the gang will not be eliminated.

This is no longer a problem that can be solved by simply killing to stop killing. From his perspective, gangs are almost equivalent to a kind of cancer, but cancer cells require lesions to produce.

Lesions - where are they?

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

time.

He recited these two words silently, not in Nostramo or High Gothic, but in another language.

His emotions were unknown at the moment, but they were so obvious that you could almost see everything in his eyes.

But no one will see it. He doesn't need this emotion to be seen or released.

Khalil has become accustomed to accumulating everything in his heart, and he is unwilling to abandon them - he knows that this is a pathology, but he needs this kind of heaviness to have a real sense of being alive.

Turning around, he left the room. The corridor was wide and high. It was one of the few buildings where he could walk freely without bending. The road was full of corpses. The expressions of the dead people were different, but the blood dyed everything red.

Khalil calmly came to the elevator shaft, stooped to enter, and then jumped out.

The height of the twelfth floor no longer required any buffering preparation for him. He landed on a layer of metal, then crashed straight through it and reached the ground.

There were corpses everywhere in the hall. He looked around and found one in particular among the dead. Khalil bent down and pulled an incendiary bomb from the latter's belt.

He doesn't need oil to increase the intensity of the fire. In fact, the body's own oils are enough to spread the fire.

How ridiculous.

Khalil pressed the button on the top of the incendiary bomb, chuckled helplessly and walked out the door, then tossed it into the pile of corpses with precise accuracy. The explosion came in an instant, followed by flames, burning and crackling.

Yeah, that's ridiculous. His bitter smile gradually turned into an indifferent sneer - this planet actually needs the killing of an executioner to have a moment of normalcy.

His hands are full of blood and sin.

A killer, a monster, something that thinks it's human.

He closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and then ruthlessly cut off all his thoughts, leaving only one goal.

No matter what, he will wipe out Quintus' gang tonight. Even if it's just treating the symptoms but not the root cause, it's better than allowing these darknesses to continue to spread.