Chapter 147 Reenactment
Europe?
"Have you ever been to Europe? Damn, don't tell me you can't understand English."
"You motherfucker..."
Sergio tried several times to no avail. The mute just looked at him with an expression of being completely numb, too lazy to even use basic gestures to communicate. He didn't know what was wrong with him.
a long time.
She raised her hand and slapped him, then, under his helpless and exasperated gaze, she clenched her fist and pressed it against her chest. After that, she didn't move again, looking at him with a somewhat timid expression.
Sergio was greatly shocked, feeling as if the atmosphere had suddenly become free.
"Wow, you... you really understand free gestures, sister, you're amazing."
"Of course, there's no need to be so afraid of me. I'm actually a good person at heart."
"I used to have a younger sister. She had a crush on a handsome guy, and I was the one who helped her pursue him. Everyone who knows me speaks highly of me."
Sergio smiled as amicably as possible and said that the situation wasn't actually that bad; at least he knew where he was. Now all he had to do was get this neurotic mute to do him a favor.
The person in charge's communications were down; the satellite phones were like they'd been flooded, with no internet connection, so access to the internal login device was out of the question. He knew the other person, like himself, hadn't come to this godforsaken place voluntarily; they'd probably been trapped there for years, so they must know some intelligence.
"You should be able to understand the language here, right?"
"Awesome...you're like my own mother now."
"Then help me change the system language to English. These idiots may be slow learners, but they do have some military ranks. There's a high chance they have contact information for some high-ranking figures. All you need to do is—"
International calls won't work... surely calling my local contacts in Africa will do?
He happened to know a few powerful and influential people who were doing quite well in the area. Although they were all involved in womanizing, he was still willing to help them out with small favors.
However, the mute girl simply shook her head and then returned to her blank expression.
Damn, so why did you cut off her tongue for no reason? What era are we living in that you're still using silencing as a method? It's ridiculous.
Sergio sighed deeply, losing all interest in even trying out the Killing Blade. He realized that without its special properties, he was utterly useless, like a piece of trash.
"Never mind."
"Dude, you'd better figure out how to moisturize it yourself."
Goodbye then.
He pulled out a scalpel and handed it to the mute girl; it was still covered in brain matter and blood, but it was better than nothing—the mentally challenged girl's dress had long been torn to shreds, and Sergio had just found a surgical gown to put on her—as a way of repaying a favor.
He already had a concrete plan in mind. If he encountered a patrolling army later, he'd immediately kneel down and beg for mercy. These idiots spoke English anyway, and he'd find a way to drop a false intelligence report—about the European Union's authority to handle prohibited items, something the South African high command would be interested in. If everything went smoothly, all he needed to do was meet the person in charge here, fawn over them for a while, make a call to headquarters, and it would all be over.
A new ace operative will be born for Eoubs' European branch. Even trash like Gore was fooled into playing around at the salon. Although he has lost his special characteristics, he has a good relationship with the person in charge. It won't be too late to implant a few more when he goes back.
Before he could even step out of the operating room, the mute girl suddenly grabbed his clothes and gestured with her other hand, as if trying to express something.
"I know I'm fucking handsome..."
"Okay, although you're pretty too, we're not a good match, sister."
"Aba aba aba aba? Do you think I'm imitating it well?"
"Dude, I'm going to kill those idiots' entire families. I'm really busy, you know?"
Sergio smiled and gestured at the mute man, but his eyes gradually turned cold.
You're so annoying, he thought.
Another aimless, empty, and pathetic soul is begging for pity from itself. This kind of person wants more, but doesn't know what it really wants.
But then, as if remembering something, she took out a piece of white paper folded many times from the side pocket of the torn fitted dress—Sergio's eyes widened, thinking it was some important secret, and his expression softened considerably.
"I knew you were a fucking genius."
The mute girl shook her head, finding it rare that she understood such praise. She carefully laid the paper on the ground and then unfolded it.
Sergio was anxious, but he held back and glanced at the pages on the ground.
moment.
As if struck by a heavy blow, he froze on the spot.
This must be a hallucination.
He thought this way, and his brain couldn't help but deny what his eyes were seeing.
"You guilty man!"
"That is your crime! Why can't you look at it!"
"Look at me! Look at me! I have witnessed your testimony! Why won't you look at me!"
What appears on the blank paper is merely a comic strip.
The content of the painting—it was all too familiar to him. How could he forget it? Back then, after the person in charge had sex with Chris, he promptly and decisively gave her death. The child cried out her own name until her death.
Not just her, everyone was terrified and helpless, including their own families and the entire Stanford family.
But it's awesome, isn't it?
He'd give anything for power, he has no regrets, he just wants to destroy the happiness of all sluts... destroy this fucking shit world.
Seeing Sergio's completely stunned reaction, the mute girl became anxious again. She was faintly crying, her eyes brimming with tears. She then lifted her clothes, revealing one shocking wound after another—whether it was knife wounds, spikes, whippings, or branding, she had suffered countless tortures.
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