Overturned Tower

Dust Gap's body, which looked like a poor-quality plastic model, was pierced by a saint's beheading and nailed high to the wall.

The synthetic people burned by the dark red furnace fire, no matter how hard they struggled, they couldn't get rid of the black fire sticking to their bodies.

But they didn't let out miserable howls and screams... Instead, they were burned to the point of losing the ability to continue moving as they continued to move towards Russell, and fell to the ground one by one.

Just like firewood.

And the dust gap pierced by Gao Gao is tilting his head, looking forward with his painted fake eyeballs. It was like looking at Russell again.

At this moment, he looked like a saint who was crucified and burned by fire.

The material on his body was scorched and gradually melted by the flame attached to the blade of the saint's beheading blade. It looks like a doll that was "cremated" by a child.

"I still don't understand."

In the middle of the fire. "Dust Gap" made a quiet sound, as if he wasn't the one being scorched.

— and maybe it wasn't him.

Because it was not Chen Chi who was speaking at this moment, but the monkey-faced eagle using the body of his son.

"The more you kill, the more you tend to destroy—the nearer you are to me.

"The effort you put in to kill me is itself drawing closer to me... No matter how much you deny it, it doesn't matter. When you destroy all 'I' by any means, you will become the next me.

"In any case*, it is impossible to be a 'hero' or a 'savior'. There is no hero who must save people by killing people... If he has to do this, then he is not a hero at all."

It sounded like a synthesized voice dubbed in an old robot movie.

The dust gap that had been burned to melt was fixed on the wall and remained motionless.

However, Russell just waved his right hand expressionlessly.

The saint's beheaded streaked across from top to bottom, bursting out fierce and gorgeous sparks in the wall. Like a sharp blade on a beheading platform, it split the dust gap from the middle and made it fall into the fire.

This flame of anger from the dream world has already induced a real flame in the real world. These flames ignite everywhere in the room...black, everlasting flames. Surrounded by a sea of ​​red flames.

"Whether it's a hero... none of my business."

With a straight face, Russell fixed the beheaded saint to his back again.

He turned his head to look outside the house.

Those crowds did not stop approaching here.

Russell was unwilling to back down, unwilling to compromise... The monkey-faced eagle with the same determination as him naturally did not intend to back down.

He was in the dark anyway.

In the end, it was Russell himself who had to pay the price.

Although "heroes" have the privilege of killing people, the essence of this privilege comes from "public opinion". In this way, the company bypasses the dragon's decree to exercise violence, and the "hero" itself is just a puppet to execute violence.

Guns are the consensus. The bullet is public opinion. The target is aimed by the company. And the trigger is pulled by the immediate director.

— A hero is nothing more than a "hammer".

The gun was there, ready and loaded. Who cares if the hammer wants to hit it when the trigger is pulled? … .

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