Where is he?

Now that we have news about the person, it's time to get to work," Krause asked directly.

"Um... he's not here with me. He should be in Building 32, the biggest villa in the center. Someone's having a party there."

The man paused for a few seconds before saying this.

"You even know this?"

Krauser was shocked. A party? Seriously? He was just being chased a short while ago, and he still has the mood to participate in some high-class activities? That's really something.

The homeowner explained that Sergio's speeding was so loud that he even parked his car in his parking space. He had been cursing from his balcony when Sergio came up and fired a burst of bullets, almost killing him on the spot. How could he not remember it?

"Awesome, bro. You have no idea your clues could save Los Angeles. You'll be remembered for generations."

After hearing this, Krauser immediately contacted the branch to send reinforcements and also called Gore.

The homeowner was completely bewildered and had no idea what was happening.

...

...

Fifteen minutes later.

All reinforcements heading to the 32 villas lost tracking signals.

Not only that, but shortly after the action team arrived, the entire villa area was in an uproar.

Literally, it means fried to pieces.

"No way, these weaklings have no fighting power at all."

"Of course I know they're going to their deaths. It's an order from higher up. What else can they do but obey? Defection is punishable by death."

"I know you're confident you have nuclear weapons, but I don't think things are that simple."

"Don't fucking mention it... That bitch definitely knew I was there, and she had the same plan as me: to find someone to sue as a scapegoat to scout things out. Also, the younger one suddenly went back to the Dolphin Hotel, and I don't know what she's up to."

"Oh...you even went to grab a bite to eat in the middle? That's impressive, very cool."

After hanging up the phone, Klaus relit a cigarette and stood there motionless.

The surroundings returned to deathly silence, with no more conversations. The villa area seemed to be trapped in a huge, viscous, and dark dream, where visitors had to remain quiet.

After a long while, he listened intently and seemed to hear sporadic gunshots and a few explosions. Then, he unconsciously smiled and muttered to himself, "Sigh, quite the style."

As long as you live, you must continue to kill.

Even if you die, you cannot escape.

He threw away his cigarette butt and, without hesitation, walked toward the direction where the explosion had occurred.

In less than a minute, Krauser was fully inside the battlefield. As he got closer, there were fewer and fewer signs of living people around him. The only smell in the air was a suppressant and blood. Occasionally, he could see severed limbs.

It was clearly a fierce battle. He looked at the wounds: some were left by large siege weapons, others by fragments of various unknown creatures—most likely the corpses of living forbidden beings—and still others by bombs of varying destructive power. Blood was everywhere, walls and marble floors were shattered, human organs were scattered, and the burn marks from the flames had even melted the steel reinforcement of the building.

Because of the fighting, most of the lights in the area were smashed, making the surroundings even quieter. Only a few faint lights flashed through the windows or gaps in the distance, accompanied by collapses, dazzling and deadly.

People were still alive. The gunshots continued intermittently, never ending, and screams could be heard from time to time.

Krauser trudged through the mess, passing through a reception hall filled with the smells of blood, gunpowder, and excrement.

The bodies were piled up like a small mountain, abandoned here, riddled with holes, having fought their way out before their deaths. Broken guns were scattered all around.

Just then, he heard a sound coming from the dome—a faint, short, and rapid breath, but very subtle… because it couldn’t produce a complete syllable.

He looked up and saw what was happening.

In this hellishly dark place, countless arms were bound with steel wire to the top of an arched dome, stretched to their limit like snakes. A woman was hanging upside down in it, bound by chains of countless human limbs into a position perfectly suited for torture. It had a somewhat absurd style of fertility worship, or like a living specimen.

The miniature flashlight in his hand illuminated the small space, and from his vantage point looking up, Krauser could clearly see... that some of the arms were growing out of her body—awkward and incongruous. The woman was still struggling desperately, thick blood dripping from her wounds and lower body, already pooling on the floor.

He paused for a few seconds.

The scene was so sudden and absurd, it was like a scene from a low-budget pornographic film, completely out of place with the atmosphere of the battlefield. But when such a vulgar sight appears before your eyes, and you witness it slowly destroying a living person, it's enough to send a chill down your spine.

It's impossible for someone to have such disgusting characteristics, adding unnecessary burdens and useless limbs. Activists only pursue speed and lethality; that's the correct approach.

There are countless perverted and insane people—that's Sergio's transplant method.

Krauser suddenly felt nauseous, but he held it in and threw something the size of a button toward the dome.

The nanobombs all exploded at the top, sparks flying everywhere along with the broken cage, illuminating countless psychedelic corpses, blood, and erotic remnants.

The woman above fell heavily to the ground, landing in her own blood. He kept throwing bombs at her until they were burned beyond recognition.

The man tried to stand up, but slipped in the blood. Without stopping, he reached for the gun lying nearby, his intention clear: he had probably been staring at the gun's location ever since it was wrapped around his arm.

She was badly injured, but her expression was so resolute it was astonishing. Without even looking, she pulled the safety and shot herself in the head.

Just then, the large number of limbs gathered above finally disappeared completely, and another person fell down.

Then came even more, almost an endless number of corpses.

To be precise, they were no longer whole—their limbs were twisted into pretzels, and some had been cut off in half, leaving only broken torsos and heads.

It's very vivid, it evokes sadistic thoughts, fucking disgusting.

Klaus felt a chill run down his spine.

It really seems to fit the European style. They always like to destroy, annihilate, and kill. The blood and mutilated limbs make them feel that life is much better, and even that life has meaning.

He stared intently at the thing, surrounded by only a cold, deathly silence.

Krauser suddenly didn't know what to think.

But he could feel his body trembling, his thoughts drifting, and a thought was screaming and roaring like a madman.

I have to stop this. I have to fucking end this disgusting battle. It has nothing to do with nobility, nothing to do with any fucking great qualities.

I must kill that beast.