Chapter 101 Oda kills the tiger (but not to death)
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If you are in the southernmost city and want to return to the northernmost area, you have to cross the capital.
That's not difficult.
The wanted warrant has never been withdrawn, but no one has tried to capture me for a long time.
Because the government can't give a price, and if they kill me, they will suffer retaliation.
It is still the same here, a white city, high hanging screens, the upper class and national figures living in the central area with tall buildings, while ordinary people huddle in dark and narrow buildings.
"Sir, can we talk?"
He found me as we walked into the capital.
"I don't know what to do."
The destruction of the juvenile detention center cannot curb the greed of human nature. I have cut off the children's path to upward mobility, but there are still a large number of young boys and girls who can meet their needs.
The best young man found me, brought two bottles of wine, sat on the ground, and poured wine for me.
I didn't remember him, I'm not good at remembering people's names, but he seemed to recognize me.
Clean boots rarely set foot on the land of the slums. He didn't care whether it was clean or not. The neat military uniform was stained with rain water that had not dried on the ground. I sat opposite him, wearing a warm robe that was very worn out because it had been used for a long time.
The scene was very funny, so I laughed.
"You've changed a lot. How have you been lately?"
"Better than you."
"Is that so? That's great."
He breathed a sigh of relief, saw that my glass was empty, poured me another glass, and presented it to me respectfully with both hands and slightly lowered his head, still treating me as a superior.
We have a strict system, and protecting the country is a lifelong career. The doctrine of growth is to die for the country, to die for protection, and to die for the gentlemen. The words had death written all over them, like a hound being warned to follow orders.
Looking at him, I suddenly couldn't laugh anymore.
A subtle discomfort infected me, and I frowned as I listened to him talk.
What has been going on with the gentlemen recently, how the bigwigs of the chaebols have fallen into trouble, and the gentlemen in the government are afraid of retaliation, so they even lowered my wanted level to the lowest in the city identity information.
"I want to thank you... My only family, my younger brother, he escaped from there successfully, and now he is in Area 21, he is very happy."
He whispered:
"But the resistance army is too fast, they are coming soon. The cult is still rampant, they don't control politics, they only spread blindness and ignorance. I am so tired, what should I do, sir?"
"For what?" I asked.
He looked at me cautiously and lowered his head again.
What a neat and clean young man, with a handsome face and cold eyes, but he is so submissive in the conflict between respect and status.
"I want him to live well."
Yes, in the process of domestication, many of us do not have very strong obsession. Our moral values are dull, but loyalty stands tall. When friendship, family ties and pressure from the upper echelons control us, we will find that this is the only way we can go.
After assuming an important position, relatives and friends all live in this city of death, so subsequent struggles are suppressed again, and all emotional needs are forcibly swallowed up. So even if you know that everything is wrong, you have to fight regardless of right or wrong in order to maintain the current stability, for loyalty, and to give your family and friends a more comfortable life while you are alive.
"He's 22 years old, a very shy guy. He couldn't adapt to the training. If you hadn't let him go, he would have been driven to death. Now he has met a girl, who is also a good girl. Maybe they will get married next year."
The young man in military uniform laughed, and it was a smile like lightning in the dark clouds, illuminating large areas of darkness. When he thought of his younger brother who was about to get married and have children, a smile that showed joy for the happiness of others appeared in the corners of this stern young man's eyes.
"I want to be at his wedding. I want to protect him until I can't protect him anymore."
In war, there are no winners.
He pursed his lips, revealing a hint of bitterness again, tilted his head back, and his Adam's apple rolled down, as the golden wine poured into his empty soul.
"I have to keep fighting for the government. I have to buy them peace."
What about you?
You also can't bear it, and can't suppress your disgust for the ridiculous oppression here. You send your brother away from the training camp, just like you are leaving here yourself. You want an ordinary life and a peaceful and happy future. You want to overthrow everything, but you are worried that your actions will destroy the peace you have been praying for for many years.
So, we have to hold on no matter what.
Young people who put themselves on the scale against what they love and are taught to objectify themselves will never be able to truly choose themselves.
Exactly the same as I was before.
We all suffer from the same Stockholm syndrome.
The more awake you are, the more painful it is, painful to the point of death, painful to the point of having nothing left.
"……look up."
I looked at him, put the dagger against his jaw, and forced him to raise his head:
"Never bow your head."
Even with his jaw pressed against him, he remained defenseless. I didn't know where his admiration for me came from, and how his trust in me had grown to such a terrifying extent.
"In the direction of the end, freedom will be born."
I took out the ink, dipped the stick in it, and wrote "freedom" on his hand.
"Go and see for yourself whether the freedom you imagine is the freedom you expect. Then decide how to obtain eternal freedom."
How to solve such a problem? It is to walk towards the end of the world with your loved ones, hiding and having nothing to do with "daily life", and completely sacrificing the happiness of your loved ones. Or should we endure discomfort and hard work, sacrifice our lives for a cause we hate, and maintain the stability of the culprit, in exchange for a tiny bit of daily happiness?
There was no answer until fate pushed him to one side and wore down his spirit with pain.
Tears fell on his palms, smudged the ink-colored words. He seemed to want to keep those two words and tried carefully to wipe away the excess water stains.
Hearing that I was about to leave, he asked:
"……And you?"
“Just trying to survive.”
Most of the two bottles of wine that had been opened had been drunk. He gulped down another large glass and gave me a sad but kind and gentle smile.
"Yes, it's such a happy thing to be able to work hard just to live."
He raised his glass:
"The battlefield will be established in Area 45. Cheers to you and freedom."
…
I hurriedly left the alley.
A grey robe covered his entire body. I knew what he meant. He hoped that I could avoid the meat grinder-like battlefield. The weapons used in modern warfare are too terrible and too ruthless.
Area 45.
Located at the junction of the third and fourth circles of the government center circle, this is the largest district. Normally, this place is not suitable for attack, and going through other districts can save a lot of time. But as long as you can survive District 45, the rest of the way will be peaceful, and you can go straight to the central city in one go.
After seizing a means of transportation, I drove out of the city. The map and direction engraved in my mind made me uneasy, like scorching hot water, burning my heart. My heart sank deeply into the depths.
To the northeast of Area 45 is Area 54, which is the home of the old writer and my destination.
The gathering place of the rebels is area 67, and the troops must be integrated from area 68. If area 68 wants to advance to area 45, there are three roads, 53 is the closest, 52 is the second, and 54 is the farthest.
With the child's intelligence, he would not take the most difficult step 54, however, a sense of uneasiness inexplicably made me panic.
What am I panicking about?
I looked for all the supporting evidence I could find to try to clarify my thinking with theory.
The resistance is a civilized force, they won't kill civilians, and I once told the kid that an old gentleman living alone in Area 54 would be careful not to kill anyone.
The old writer lived in a very remote place, in a narrow and dark house, in the most slum-like residential area, and all the neighbors around him had moved away long ago. He rarely goes out, sleeps when it gets dark, eats nutrient solution, and has no lights or fire, so he is very safe.
At this moment, my rationality returned and I found that the probability of him getting into trouble due to the war was lower than the probability of him dying of natural illness.
Yet I could not revive myself.
What am I panicking about, what am I afraid of?
It felt like there was a lead weight weighing down my heart, sinking continuously.
Yes, yes, I need to give him my notes.
He once asked me to give it to him and let him read the travel notes that belong to me.
I will tell him what I have experienced along the way, and I will lie down beside the grave and sleep soundly.
My panic is because the gift I received has not been opened yet, because it is still useful to me. I don't want my achievements to fall short. The purpose of my writing is to make him my reader.
I've put in so much effort, and even though I had nowhere to go, the sunk cost was higher than I could have imagined. I couldn't just fail at the last hurdle.
I don't want to fail, so I panic.
Yes, that's it.
My heartbeat stabilized again, and I adjusted my direction, relying for the first time on fixed transportation rather than long-distance transportation or walking, and headed northeast.
There's still time before the war.
Before everything, there is still time.
——Excerpt from the sixth volume of Meaningless Literature
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**
Oda Sakunosuke felt that he was a little strange.
The feeling seemed strange, but he did feel that he was strange and different from everyone else.
His time is never chaotic, his environment is stable and without twists and turns. He is like a small fish living in an ecological self-circulating bottle, swaying among the water plants and carrying out his great adventure in a glass environment.
He had experienced the feeling of being spied on before. The sharpness of the senses of a top killer was unimaginable to ordinary people. However, after he was seriously alert for many days, the feeling of being spied on disappeared.
However, the feeling of abnormality lingered for a long time.
In fact, he didn't care much about this kind of thing at the beginning. You could say he was careless or that he had a screw loose, but when ordinary people would be suspicious, he slept soundly.
He is alone, powerless and without influence, so why should anyone care about him? What does it matter if he dies or if he is alive?
The law of the jungle in Yokohama does not care about the ideals and talents of the victims. It was true that he wanted to write a book, and the desire in his heart urged him to personally experience the life of a killer who did not kill people, but there was no need for anyone to give way to his ideals.
If you can't win and die, it doesn't matter if you just lose your life.
But, last week he picked up a child.
The riots in Yokohama did not last long and did not appear to be very severe. But riots are riots, and in wars in the inner world, innocent people from the outer world often suffer.
The Port Mafia is very short of manpower and they are eager to swallow up all the power in Yokohama. The forces that once shackled him have become very weak. What's the point of not killing people? Let him track and investigate, just don't kill anyone, it will still be useful.
So he was assigned to a temporary non-staff team, a group of people specifically responsible for unimportant non-killing capture missions, and became a non-killing hound.
This is not so bad, at least the salary is a little higher than my previous job of collecting corpses. Apart from the necessities of life, he finally had enough money to buy furniture or expensive books and magazines.
The price of books in Yokohama is incredibly high, and these bookstores rarely lend them out. He has always been frugal and is reluctant to spend money on this.
When he was on a mission last week, the second-in-command of the target Wilderness Group escaped into an orphanage. Knowing that he would not kill anyone, he threatened to kill everyone in the orphanage to force him to let him escape.
The people in his group were all good people. They knew his habits and considered that this mission was not important. The leader of the Yuanye group had been captured, so the second in command was also captured. So the people in his group made up a few excuses, such as having a stomachache, being hungry, or the children at home wanting to eat, and left one by one.
——We don’t know anything, you can do whatever you want.
The people in his group more or less don't like killing people. They are either smart but cowardly, or have wives and children at home and want to accumulate virtue, or just want to earn some money without any intention of climbing up the social ladder. Most of these people were of average looks, smoking and spitting, discussing house prices, wages, pubs, kebabs, and gossiping about men and women. They were a little vulgar, a little mean, damp and dark, with an indescribable smell of stubble, but very real.
Oda Sakunosuke listened attentively and answered seriously. He was so serious that people around him liked to tease him, but at the same time, they also trusted him very much.
They said that their children don’t like reading and no matter how much they teach, they can’t learn well. The literacy books in the bookstore are too expensive and they can’t afford to buy much based on their family finances. Then Oda Sakunosuke recommended a few books, and the eyes of these uncles who had never been to school brightened up, and they begged him to publish some literacy booklets.
Oda Sakunosuke bought several thick notebooks and copied the fifty-sounds word by word, creating words and sentences. He copied five or six books, writing them in great detail and neatness, which took him a whole month. Those colleagues who were just joking suddenly burst into tears for some reason when they saw the sloppy but carefully written notebook.
They have been out working since they were young, doing insignificant jobs that involve life and death. They have no talent and ordinary looks, and no one would even look at them in Kabukicho. Later, they got married and had children, and the end of life shifted to the next generation. They wanted their children to grow up well and not follow in their footsteps into the dust.
However, all schools in Yokohama were suspended, and the streets were filled with gangsters and mafia. The loss of the industry and the poverty of the family even made them afraid to seek medical treatment when they were sick. They persuaded their wives not to work to avoid accidents, and then threw their lives into the abyss, carrying a heavy burden.
Amidst the drinking and socializing, there are no friends, only villains everywhere, anyone can harm him, and they all put up walls against each other. I vented my pain in the pub, abandoning my former reserve and chewing on meaningless topics. Sometimes when I woke up, I wondered how I could have lived like this, and I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.
I also want to read, but when I open the book, I find that I can't read a single word.
It has been too long since I was treated sincerely, and I haven't been properly comforted like when I was a teenager. I haven't felt the warmth of humanity for a long time. Spring water is poured into my dry heart, and it overflows, overflows onto my chin, and overflows into the wine glass.
A group of grown men were wiping their tears, their sadness evaporated into mist and floated into the air, making the eyes of those who watched them feel sore.
"Brother, you want to be a writer, right? Writers are good."
"Do you think my story can be written? Write more of our stories and we will tell you all of them."
"My daughter is so happy. She likes your handwriting. When you finish writing, I will read it to her."
Oda Sakunosuke didn't quite understand. His emotions were always a little duller than those of ordinary people. Most of the time, he couldn't feel that others were targeting him, let alone feel that they were indulged by others. However, he wrote it down, wrote down each person's family appearance, along with their dirty gossip, and memorized it bit by bit in his mind.
Is this why the killer doesn't kill people?
He doesn't quite understand, maybe? But it feels like something is missing, what is it?
When he stood alone at the door of the orphanage, watching his colleagues leaving one by one, that subtle emotion surged up again. He pursed his lips and continued forward.
The children were all knocked unconscious, and more children were locked in the room. The second-in-command stood at the door, shouting.
"If you come in, I will kill all these cubs. You are the murderer!"
Is it so strange that he doesn't kill anyone?
However, even with such a threat, he didn't know how to step in. He could only rack his brains, observing the prisoner's limbs, trying to find the right angle to knock him down with one blow to reduce the damage.
This second-in-command is obviously a veteran in the other world. Seeing that he had indeed been restrained, he suddenly shot him from behind. Oda Sakunosuke dodged several times, and the old hand finally reacted. He opened his mouth and was about to shout out "superpowers".
This is difficult to deal with. Although he didn't hide it, it wouldn't be good to shout it out loud.
Oda Sakunosuke frowned, glanced at a relatively smooth staircase, calculated the trajectory of the bullet, and planned to use the bullet's ricochet to complete the attack.
It was not difficult for him to subdue a person, but keeping him alive was the most difficult thing.
However, just as he touched the pistol, he heard the tiger's voice.
The ferocious beasts create a creepy atmosphere that is terrifying.
The low growling sound in the throat, locked in the throat, gurgling, was full of murderous intent and threats.
The second-in-command was still shouting, and he even stepped out of the door and waved his arms at him. However, the moment he walked out, at the corner not far away, Oda Sakunosuke saw a white tiger.
White tiger... ?
The white tiger was small in size, but it was also a majestic big cat. The big cat leaned down and made hunting movements, its pupils shrinking. Even though the hunted was not him, Oda Sakunosuke still sensed a hint of shock.
"Mr. Dean!!"
"Ahhhhh it's the tiger again!!"
“There’s a tiger!!”
The hostage children cried out, and Oda Sakunosuke analyzed the situation carefully.
Another tiger?
But Yokohama is not a place where tigers would appear, and it is unlikely that such a poor orphanage would raise a tiger.
The children's shouts continued, and Mr. Second in Command became increasingly annoyed. He also heard the word tiger and was impatiently questioning:
"Where are the tigers?"
The kids pointed behind him, but the second in command thought it was just a scare and shot the kid.
So he screamed and cried, and the stimulated White Tiger's body streamlined and tensed. Only then did the second-in-command feel something was wrong, but it was too late. The White Tiger pounced on him and knocked him to the ground.
The big white tiger opened its mouth wide, almost swallowing the man's head. Oda Sakunosuke's expression was shocked. A tiger that had eaten humans would probably not let the people here go. If he really eats it, it will probably become a lifelong shadow for all children. He raised his gun and was about to shoot the tiger, but he heard the director of the orphanage shout:
"Don't hurt him!"
At this time, although the second-in-command was not bitten to death, he was staring with his eyes wide open, frightened to death.
The tiger sensed his murderous intent, licked its paws, and scanned his body with its animal eyes, as if tasting what was more delicious about him.
Oda Sakunosuke broke out in a cold sweat.
"This is a tiger! Why can't we kill it? Give me a reason!"
The dean's face was pale and hesitant, refusing to say a word. He waved his hand and asked all the children to go back to the house and close the door. However, at this moment, Oda Sakunosuke had already exchanged several moves with Baihu.
He used a dagger, but the white tiger's recovery speed was terrifyingly fast and astonishingly fast. Even he would find it difficult if he didn't kill him. After not getting a reply from the dean for a long time, Oda Sakunosuke opened the safety of the gun, rolled over and knelt on one knee. In a perfect moment, he saw that his bullet had hit Baihu's eye, killing Baihu on the spot.
Okay, let’s do that.
But the next moment, in perfect harmony, he heard a loud cry of grief.
“Dun——!”
When the five seconds were up, the hand that pulled the trigger suddenly shifted, and the bullet hit the wall, and no one knew where it went. Oda Sakunosuke widened his eyes and looked at the white tiger in front of him.
Is...is it a human? He almost killed someone?
At this moment, everything changed, he heard the dean's voice.
"Dun! That's enough! Wake up!"
The white tiger seemed to be awakened by the shout. It growled unwillingly and paced back and forth in a restless manner. Just when it was about to attack again out of control, Oda Sakunosuke suddenly dropped his pistol, turned over and rode on the white tiger's back.
"Dean!" He grabbed Baihu's ears and asked while shaking him violently, "Is he a human?"
“……”The situation was urgent, and the dean could only nod.
Oda Sakunosuke's expression became even uglier. He hugged the white tiger's neck and tried his best to tighten it. He used his skills seamlessly and repeatedly, and after countless thrilling moves, he managed to steadily exhaust the white tiger's strength. When the sky was as dark as ink, he turned over and fell to the ground. The so-called white tiger had turned into a sleeping boy.
"A person with super powers? Do you know what you are doing? You put a person with super powers who can't control himself among children?"
It was not until this moment that Oda Sakunosuke realized that he was sweating coldly. He checked the boy's condition and confirmed that he was just too tired and fell asleep, then he questioned the dean with a grim expression.
"Dun has always been a good boy, but... he only did that to protect everyone..."
The middle-aged dean looked grim. He wandered around and whispered:
"He was locked in a cage..."
"cage?"
Oda Sakunosuke was so angry that he almost laughed:
"You put such a young child in a cage?"
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