Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The city continued to burn, black smoke coiling through the night sky like a curse, the flames consuming the last remnants of sanity within its walls.
The destructive actions of Truth's Fire were still expanding.
This was no longer a "Revolution"; it was pure destruction and slaughter, a complete trampling of order, authority, and social structure. It was a hunt driven by anger and madness, a sacrifice dragging the entire city into hell.
Amidst this chaos, Jack had completely succumbed to madness.
His eyes were bloodshot, a sickly smile twisted his lips, and the gun in his hand never ceased firing. The number of times his finger pulled the trigger surpassed all the words he had spoken in his life.
Each shot felt like revenge against the world; each kill was a reckoning for those who had once looked down on him, belittled him, and trampled on him.
"You damned bastards! You think you're better than me?! I'm higher than you now!!"
He stood atop an overturned police car, wildly shooting at a group of civilians hiding behind a building. Bullets shattered glass, crushed bones, and blood bloomed on the streets like grotesque flowers.
He laughed maniacally, trembling with excitement. In that moment, he was no longer the worthless being trampled underfoot; he was the judge, the embodiment of flames, the demon dragging this city into the abyss.
And what about Tommy?
He had long ceased to think.
He didn't even want to think.
When a person's reason and morals can no longer change reality, when all struggles are futile, when this world has completely collapsed, giving up becomes the simplest choice.
He followed the destruction, the looting, the burning, because as long as he joined in the chaos, he could drink, eat, and temporarily forget this damned world.
After all, this city was beyond saving, right?
So what if he caused a little more destruction?
He swung a Molotov cocktail and hurled it into a luxurious department store. The glass windows shattered, flames engulfed the expensive merchandise, and black smoke billowed out from within. The alarms inside wailed futilely, like a ridiculous lament.
“Come on! Drink up!” Jack smashed a bottle of stolen whiskey into Tommy's arms, grinning widely. “We are gods now! This city is our toy!”
Tommy stared blankly at the bottle in his arms, silent for a few seconds. Then he twisted off the cap and tilted his head back, taking a deep swig.
The firelight reflected on his face as the alcohol slid down his throat like a dose of poison that made him lose himself in oblivion, allowing him to forget what he was doing—or rather, to not think about what he was doing.
The city had long since died, and he merely stood atop its corpse, reveling in this apocalyptic carnival.
The night sky was illuminated by gunfire and flames, smoke hung thick in the air, and slaughter never ceased.
Truth's Fire was no longer just a radical organization causing trouble; it had become one of the most powerful forces in the city, even stronger than some local governments.
They were not just burning and pillaging; they were expanding further. They established strongholds, organized armed groups, controlled neighborhoods, transforming into an emerging warlord faction that engaged in daily gunfights with the remnants of police and government forces.
But the problem was that the number of police officers dwindled each day while Truth's Fire only grew stronger.
"Will you continue to be their slave, or will you join us?"
This is a phrase shouted by someone every day. In every attack, during every raid, on every night when the flames of war burn, there are those who choose to cast aside their humiliation, pick up a gun, and join this frenzy of fire.
"The government is dead! Rain is dead! Who do you still want to serve?!"
After the gunfight, those standing beside the bodies of police officers are often the civilians who once hid in their homes, the poor who barely survived on street corners, and those who were filled with despair about the world. They once waited for redemption; now, they have decided to become a part of the flames themselves.
In this city, there is no longer any concept of "law." The only rule now is:
—Whoever has a gun can define what justice is.
Every day, the armed members of Truth's Fire roam the neighborhoods, looting supermarkets, burning government buildings, seizing weapons caches, controlling vital transportation routes, and even starting to utilize black market trades to further strengthen their arsenal. Their firearms multiply, their supplies grow, and their numbers increase. They are no longer mere thugs; they have become a true rebellion.
"We are not just here to destroy this city—we are here to reshape it!"
With blood and fire, they spread their so-called "truth" throughout the city. They burn and execute indiscriminately. They seize money from banks, food from warehouses, and weapons from armories, bathing every corner of this city in the brilliance of Revolution.
"In extreme times, only those willing to resist and rebel are truly worthy."
This phrase has become the creed of Truth's Fire and the sole belief in this war.
And this war has only just begun.
The city is utterly dead.
The things that once symbolized order—laws, rules, social contracts—have been consumed by flames, washed away by blood, and torn apart by gunfire.
The streets are littered with charred vehicles and broken power lines, while burst pipes send sewage flowing freely, mingling with the ashes of destruction and bloodstains. The air is thick with a foul stench, reminiscent of a decaying graveyard that devours all the living.
Rebellious citizens have been slaughtered indiscriminately; their bodies lie sprawled on the roads, hanging from lampposts, and collapsed in front of burned-out shops. No one buries them, no one mourns them. Death has become the everyday scenery of this city; no one stops for a corpse anymore.
The bodies of the police are hung high as warnings, serving as some grotesque flag.
The police station has turned into a slaughterhouse, covered in blood-red graffiti: "Is this your justice?" "The law is dead!" "The grave of cowards!" Those who once wore uniforms and tried to maintain order now dangle from light poles, nailed to walls, or tossed into burning heaps of trash. Gunshot wounds, knife cuts, broken limbs, and gouged eyes resemble a heartless sacrifice.
There are no rules here, no order—only pure destruction and annihilation, only the most savage fury and rage.
Human reason has long since collapsed along with this city; humanity is gradually being lost. What remains is nothing but bestiality.
In this current city, no one is entirely "human." Each person has transformed into some struggling creature—a beast driven by fear, hunger, and hatred.
Some choose to flee; others choose to kill; some choose to burn everything down.
But regardless of their choices, this place is no longer a city—this is hell, this is purgatory, this is the grave of civilization, the end of humanity.
The city continues to burn; gunfire echoes on. Screams and roars intertwine into a chaotic symphony. Yet at this moment, everyone must come to a halt.
Whether it was the rioters clashing in the streets or the survivors hiding among the ruins, whether it was the zealots of "Truth's Fire" or the weary police officers, even those desperate souls curled up in the shadows, waiting for the night to consume everything—their gazes were all drawn to their phones, televisions, and screens.
Carter's Live Broadcast had begun.
The image on the screen was not complicated; in fact, it could be described as starkly simple.
Mayor Rain was bound to a dilapidated chair, his body battered and bruised, his head hanging low like a condemned man awaiting execution. His shirt was torn and stained with blood and dirt, his hands tied behind his back, his body trembling slightly from pain. Deep bruises marred his face, and one eye was swollen shut.
Behind him stood a man—Carter Black.
He did not speak or move; he simply stood there, silently gazing down at this former ruler of the city.
Yet despite this stillness, the Live Broadcast had successfully captured everyone's attention.
In every corner of the city, people paused whatever they were doing to watch this impending trial unfold.
Some were astonished, others ecstatic, while some were engulfed in deep fear. But regardless of their stance, they could not tear their eyes away.
Because they understood that this was not merely a Live Broadcast; it was a turning point in the fate of the city.
This was not just a trial of Mayor Rain; it was a trial for the entire city.
Comment 0 Comment Count