One shot, and all the nightmares will be over.

He would never feel pain again, never have to face a dark and hopeless future, and never have to endure the methods he used to think were trash but couldn't withstand now—after killing "Stanford," the scene would probably become even bloodier, and who knew if that idiot would come back to life. The thought of it gave him a headache.

He came to realize that he was now just flesh and blood. Although he had loyal subordinates and close relatives he could use, he had lost them all. Those useless people had gathered together, waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

This is an epic fall from grace, fuck you...

Sergio vaguely remembered that he had indeed experienced many things, killed many people, and done his best to resist the various difficult tasks sent by Eoubs, and had resolved them all, but now—

I've had enough.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, he hesitated again.

He thought of his past self.

The C01 who had once shattered everything was arrogant, proud, and fearless. He knew that if time could be reversed, that "former" would be desperately trying to be rescued, and he would fight back at any cost, which would anger a bunch of troublesome people—but he didn't care; he had absolutely no concept of morality.

This may be an impossible thing, but...

What if he truly repented and endured such suffering, yet still could only become a rotting corpse?

What if someone tries their best, only to find that they have once again failed to retain those honors and glories?

What kind of expression would I have?

Sergio thought for less than a second before deciding he couldn't bear the sight.

He looked up and fired five shots into the window. The extinction effect took effect, corroding the wall completely and revealing a crooked and twisted doorway.

Without thinking twice, he walked out.

He knew, of course, that it was a dead end, but he would never repent.

He'll go through this torture again; isn't that just retribution? He can endure it until... he really can't take it anymore.

However, there is good news: things are okay now, and he can continue.

Everything began to twist, and so the cycle continued.

...

...

You must repent!

"You must repent, you sinner!"

"You damned beast! Look at what you've done before!"

"Dear Mr. C01, do you think you are qualified?"

"Maybe it's not enough..."

"elder brother."

"Go to hell, brother."

"Repent for me! Repent for us! Come and join us!"

He absolutely must not think about it.

He absolutely cannot compromise.

The moment the auditory hallucination occurred, he seemed to hear the most vicious curses of boredom erupting from the arena, with people smashing things and others shouting insults.

All that anger, hissing, and hysteria quickly vanished, leaving behind a terrifying, deathly silence. As if some black, solid object had grasped the entire world, the lights dimmed and huddled together. He could hear every breath and had to strain to find air.

once.

Ten times.

Thousands of times... even tens of thousands of times.

Sergio opened his lips, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide open, and he was unconscious, filled only with pure pain.

His right eye was gouged out, and blood kept flowing from his ear. Those pure, malicious forces shattered him from within. The once powerful and strong man was now reduced to a small, bloody wreckage, still being devoured alive.

He kept crying throughout, tears streaming down his face uncontrollably, and he lost consciousness.

Then, the restraints on the rack were finally loosened, and the victim fell straight down.

He lay motionless on the ground, and without any movement, several hunting dogs rushed over, biting his ankles, arms, and neck, and began to devour him.

The beam of light from the dome stubbornly shone on Sergio, making this filthy, disgusting scene of eating seem like sunlight spontaneously gathering, almost a miracle, beautiful to the extreme.

The narrator began to speak again, describing his plight in a very pleasant tone: "How pitiful, but have you repented?"

The light shone on this rotting flesh, but his eyes were calm, staring at the sky as if looking at something distant through a multicolored gemstone.

Sergio gave a serious assessment, feeling as if he were a marine creature sent from the deep sea to the desert, deliberately placed in a blazing oven, his whole body aching unbearably.

He tried to curl up, thinking it might make things better, but he couldn't even move a fingertip. He heard the man laugh again and say, "Look, what else does he want to do?"

For a moment, Sergio couldn't remember who he was or where he was; all he could feel was pain. His insides had been burned away, and his body seemed to be just an empty shell, filled with layers upon layers of wounds, numbness, pain, and confusion. There was nothing else left; there was nothing left for those vengeful spirits to want. He shouldn't be alive.

"Have you repented, Mr. Sergio?"

He stared at the name, which flickered within him like a tiny flame, making his fingertips tremble and his breath catch in his throat. It was as if, in that instant, he had become a living person again, needing to find air to survive.

"No……"

No, it won't.

"Really? Even so, you're still unwilling to repent?"

He cannot bow his head—

But he might come back to this hell, Sergio thought. No matter how cannibalistic this paradise be, or how specially prepared for the dead it may be, he would still come. He never felt threatened and knew clearly that he was a scoundrel. Once he made up his mind, he would not look back until he was completely destroyed.

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