He didn't speak, he was so injured, and with the influence of the distortion, he probably couldn't hear me talking.

"My brother was sent to the Forbidden Island. He shouldered a mission that was more important than me. If you have the chance, can you hand it over to him?"

He handed me a package, and I silently took it. I didn't have to open it to know that it was a book.

When I was a child, I had a high opinion of myself. I always felt that I was smarter than my peers and I always read some books. This is the one I often read.

"Sorry, I can't send you Yongzheng Island." I had no expression on my face.

"Is that?" He smiled with relief, "It's true, I'm not thinking well..."

He hadn't finished speaking because I could no longer listen.

The dagger of characteristics pierced into my body, and these kind of people who remained awake in the end never resisted in front of me.

I received the gift.

I numbly pulled out the dagger, and another sincere son of man died before me.

I'm really numb, I'm a person with no feelings at all.

I keep hypnotizing myself like this.

...

From time to time, I cut a hole in myself and every time I kill someone, I cut a knife. In this way, it seems that I was also injured on the battlefield.

When someone asked, I said it as if I had confessed my sin:

"Yes, I killed people."

After a while, this matter seemed to spread.

There is a young boy in the camp who fights bloody battles for the human race every day.

"That's great!"

Walking on the street, the pedestrians on the road were amazed at me.

"I heard that 30% of the enemies were wiped out by him."

"I really didn't expect that I was so outstanding at a young age."

I walked on the road in a daze, and was admired by people.

"Thank you, my mother, you have always protected us here. I have killed many bad people! I have avenged my father!" The little boy stuffed the flowers into my hands.

He thanked me.

How should I answer him?

I haven't given it to you the toy your father gave me before he died.

I revealed the wound I scratched today.

I had to say, "Yes, I killed people."

"You are exhausted today. It's very hard to go into battle to kill the enemy." The old lady on the street praised me and gave me some of the remaining food in the family.

I looked at the grandma blankly, as if I saw the tragic situation of his young son in front of me.

How should I answer him?

If only I really killed the enemy on the battlefield, I thought so.

I exposed my wound again: "Yes, I killed people."

"He is the great hero of the human race." A person of similar age looked at me excitedly, as if he was looking forward to me.

I was very familiar with the look, like the look I had seen clearly.

"Do we have hope?" His eyes revealed clarity.

I couldn't speak, in order to respond to them.

I had to expose my wounds over and over again, and the wounds became more and more day by day.

The people around me blessed me one by one, and I could only say it again and again:

"Yes, I killed people."

"Yes, I killed people."

"Yes, I killed people."

...

Until the end, I no longer have the conscience to reply.

I could only respond little by little by little by little by little as Master Mo.

At this moment, I seemed to understand why Master Mo was praised by people as much as I did.

When I got home, I asked him.

"Are you an executioner too?"

I looked at Mo.

Don't look at the wine.

Speaking of which, all the people who drank with him to relieve stress seemed to be dead.

Mo didn't say anything, but just looked at the book on me, "What did you promise to die again?"

"Nothing." I lowered my head and didn't say anything.

"You think you have recognized the wrong master, right?" Mo said suddenly.

Not.

I just didn't expect that Mo, who is not good at hiding pressure, dare not attack his former partners, would have done the same job as me.

Have Mo also kept hiding his own pressure?

"Kill a few," he asked.

"I can't remember." I lied.

He looked at me and didn't care about anything, but said again: "I've killed a few acquaintances."

I was a little dazed, how many of them were killed?

My mother, my father, my brother, who else?

The figure of an uncle passed through my mind, and this one is also considered one.

"I can't remember."

I'm going crazy.

Don't look at me and nodded, "Don't be afraid, you did nothing wrong."

“This is the best practice.”

I raised my head in a daze. I didn't understand what he meant, but after a moment of slowing down, I guessed it.

Mo has also been an executioner, but now he has taken on responsibilities that many people cannot bear. This position as an executioner may be a trial.

"When your heart is cold enough, it is naturally less likely to fall. When you kill enough, you can really start taking on my current position."

"When will it be enough to kill?"

"When you really forget how many you killed."

Don't shake your head:

"So, will you have a glass of wine before that?"

Drinking can forget the pressure, but I rejected him.

...

I performed well.

He was so indifferent that he couldn't even believe the person in charge.

He said I was the cruelest one in the years, and the last one was Mo.

When I practice, I will definitely be able to bear enough pressure to avoid falling into depravity early.

And the moment I took responsibility came very quickly.

Today is my time to work again.

Another familiar body was placed in front of me.

Yes Mo.

The tentacles on his chin were growing wildly, and they were almost madly to the deepest point.

This is the last Qingming Festival.

His friends died and no one relieved his pressure, so he went to collapse alone.
To be continued...