Blackstone Code

If this request had been made a few hours ago, the young man would have left the room like a servant even if he didn't want to.

But everything is different now. He did not leave immediately. Instead, he looked at his father, Mr. Simon, and said, "You plan to leave..."

"I heard from the butler that you are selling everything here."

"Factories, shops, warehouses and things in warehouses, you dismissed all the workers, including the house under our feet, which is also in your plan to sell!" The boy's voice was not so loud, but it was like a thunderclap that struck Simon. Mr.'s heart.

When these things he did were exposed, he was a little panicked and said, "No, that's not true!"

For the first time, the young man did not lower his head and remained silent, but looked directly at the man who was a little panicked during his questioning. He felt that this man was not as powerful as he thought.

"You are actually ready to leave. As long as someone can take over these assets, you will leave here. You don't even plan to leave with me and my mother. You plan to leave us here and give us nothing." Let’s stay!”

He had guessed the truest situation, and Mr. Simon's mood stabilized. In this relationship with which he was more familiar, he quickly found his place.

"These are not things you should understand. Do you understand? I say it again. Now I ask you to leave here immediately, immediately!" He pointed to the door, and the majesty of being a father and the ruler of this family began again. diffuse.

The young man began to feel the changes in his soul just like he had experienced countless times from disappointment to despair. Little by little, he felt that he was being swallowed by darkness.

His expression was a little painful, and he wanted to squeeze out some smiles, but the smiles were not very good-looking, "We can leave and go together. The three of us can go anywhere, including the country you came from, or the country you didn't go to." No matter which country we live in, we are a family and should live together..."

"Tell me, you plan to take us with you..."

He shouted loudly, but Mr. Simon remained silent. He pursed his lips and lost the color of his lips. Just like his current mood, he was pale and nervous.

He never admitted that this person with a darker complexion and more like his mother than himself was his child. At the same time, he also knew that this was actually a fact, but he just didn't want to admit it.

The longer he stays here, the more he misses his cheating wife and his son who only uses the word "dad" to express closeness when writing letters asking for money. The mother and son here are just props for him to integrate into the local society. vase, and a hybrid.

The unfamiliar look with a hint of displeasure and hatred made the young man completely despair. He did not leave the room, but just walked to the sofa and sat down. He pulled his hair fiercely with both hands and fell into a mania.

"Why, if you don't like me and your mother, why did you marry her and give birth to me?", he asked Mr. Simon.

He had made such conjectures before, but he always told himself that they were all his random thoughts. How could anyone not love his child.

He even found some excuses for Mr. Simon, such as that he expressed love in a different way, that he was actually paying attention to himself secretly...

He tried to deceive himself into believing that the lies he made up were the truth of the world, but it seemed that he failed.

Mr. Simon seemed to look away at this moment, and his voice was also cold, "Because if I don't have a son like you, some locals will not be willing to do business with me."

"I know what they think. They think you will become my successor and inherit everything I have. They think you are also a Nagaril..." Mr. Simon paused as he said it. He seemed to have thought of something, but His emotions gave him no chance to think about it, "You are indeed a Nagaril!"

A very strange smile appeared on his face, "And I, I am not a Nagalier, and my son should not be a Nagalier."

"You're right. I never considered you my child from the very beginning, and I didn't intend to take you away. I can't stand you. Now that your use value is gone, I can't stand it anymore." I will take you away!"

"How about it? I've told you everything you want to know. Are you satisfied now? Are you satisfied with the answer?"

"If you are satisfied, get out of my room. I will be angry when I see you now!"

The young man slowly raised his head with tears streaming down his face. The muscles on his face would sometimes twitch uncontrollably. Adding those tears and some snot, it honestly didn't look good.

"So, you never loved me, did you?", he asked, his final question.

Mr. Simon hesitated for a moment, then shook his head, "Never."

"I always thought that you didn't like me because I didn't do well enough, even though I knew I was lying to myself."

"You rejected the last chance, please allow me... to call you Papa..."

Papa is a more affectionate name for father in the localization of Nagaril. Calls such as father and mother are too literal. Not many people speak like this in real life. Except for the family environment and the education they received, they must In addition to doing this, most of the time, people actually still use this more humane title to call their parents.

Just when Mr. Simon was a little stunned, the young man grabbed the shotgun on the sofa and raised it. Mr. Simon's expression was a little strange, even a little disappointed.

"You can't shoot, and you don't dare to do that. I will leave some money for you and your mother so that you can live a good life. Now stop saying those unpleasant words, then put down the gun and take it from my in the room……"

Boom!

The whole world seemed to be occupied by this huge sound. When Mr. Simon looked at the fire in front of him, he thought of the time not long after he came here.

Preton is a very good hunter and also likes hunting. At that time, Mr. Simon had no choice but to seek refuge with him. Fortunately, he had successful experience in the past, which made him somewhat competent in his own country. connections.

Preton took a fancy to Mr. Simon. He was not a garbage recycler and put everything in his pocket. He only wanted those valuable people to serve him.

In order to please Preton, Mr. Simon asked someone to get some fine shotguns and donate them to Preton.

These shotguns may not necessarily play a good role on the frontal battlefield, but they have excellent performance in hunting.

Larger caliber, faster chamber velocity, and more terrifying tearing power. He still remembered that the manufacturer of this shotgun told him very proudly when delivering these shotguns, even if he faced a crazy big gun. There is no need to panic.

Just spread your feet slightly in tandem, stabilize your body's center of gravity, put the butt of the gun on your shoulder, aim at the elephant's head, and pull the trigger.

After a bang, the mad elephant will fall to the ground like a rag doll, no longer able to threaten anything.

He fell backwards, falling slowly, and he saw the blood drops in the air falling slowly. The blood was not as bright red as people thought, but a little darker.

He saw some bone fragments, and was surprised to see another eyeball. The nerve of that eyeball was slowly flying in the air connected to a muscle. He could even see infinite fear and infinite fear in that eye. My own reflection.

A poor guy with half his head missing!

With a bang, Mr. Simon lay on the ground, his body twitching subconsciously. He only twitched a few times before stopping, and blood poured out of his head.

The young man who was knocked over by the huge recoil stood up again. The door to the room was also knocked open. The housekeeper and the young man rushed in. They saw Mr. Simon on the ground at a glance.

Compared to the surprised expression on the young man's face, the housekeeper took out the cushion on the coffee table with a heavy expression and covered Mr. Simon's missing half of his head.

The blood soon dyed the white pad red. The young man wiped the tears from his face. He looked at Mr. Simon who was lying on the ground with no vital signs, and felt very complicated in his heart.

The mountain he once thought he could not cross collapsed in front of him at this moment. Human life is really fragile.

He doesn't know how to describe his feeling at this moment, all kinds of emotions are churning, but compared to these, he still has some new work to do.

"What shall I do next?" The young man looked at the young man, "I have already shown my sincerity,"

The young man nodded, seeming to agree very much, "Leave everything to me. From this moment on, you, your family, and your property will be protected and taken care of by the Al-Shabaab in Nagaril." !”

After a while, there were occasional gunshots around, but it soon calmed down.

The riots spread here from other places, and some people also focused on Mr. Simon's house. After all, everyone has a common understanding of who is richer among the foreigners here.

But just when they were about to break into Mr. Simon's house, they saw a body with its head covered on the lawn. Several young people were saying something loudly. Probably some thugs sneaked in and beat Mr. Simon to death. some type of.

At the same time, they also expressed to others that Mr. Simon's child, a Nagaril boy, would inherit Mr. Simon's industry and wealth, and he was also a member of the Nagaril Al-Shabaab.

If you don't want to cause trouble, if you don't want to cause trouble for your family, it's best not to set foot in this yard!

The influence and reputation of the Al-Shabab in Nagalil are actually insufficient, but they have guns in their hands. At this time, guns have become the most convincing thing to others.

People remembered the dead Mr. Simon, remembered the Youth Party, and the weapons in the hands of the Youth Party.

They expressed fear and left.

Sitting in the living room facing his mother who didn't look very sad, the young man stared at the sky outside the window in a daze.

He didn't know if this decision was right or wrong, but at least he was fighting for a chance.

A chance to control your own destiny.