40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 2 2. Ghosts and ghosts

Limping, Khalil came to a door and opened it the normal way, the creaking sound making him frown.

In fact, it would be a bit biased to say that this thing is a door.

The door should be solid, and if Khalil hadn't nailed a few boards on it, it probably wouldn't be a whole, and it wouldn't even be able to keep out the wind.

He walked into it, and there was a dirty stench filling the dark room.

Khalil's brows began to wrinkle more and more tightly. He opened his mouth and said to the empty room, "I remember I said to keep the ventilation?"

"It's raining." In the empty room, a soft hissing voice suddenly sounded.

That's what Nostramo is, soft and hissing like poetry.However, most of the people who talked about them were murderers.

"rain?"

Khalil repeated, raising his eyebrows, a look of disdain on his pale face. "Is that why you don't open the window?"

"Yes."

In the darkness, a tall shadow slowly stood up.He poked his head out of the darkness, his pale face illuminated by the neon light from the doorway.

Khalil sneered, took off his cloak wearily, threw it and two knives at his feet, then pulled a chair and sat in front of the door.

The cold wind of Nostramo blew by in the early morning, he lowered his head, blood dripped down his right leg, and filled the soles of his feet.

"You're injured." said the terrifyingly tall shadow.

"Yeah, I'm hurt." Khalil shrugged. "Because the two hands of the bastard have acquired enhanced machinery implanted."

Shadow came up to him, examining the wound carefully.

"You need healing," Shadow hissed. "He broke a bone in your right leg."

"I know."

Khalil said wearily, adjusting his sitting position so that he could lean on the broken chair he found.Although this position is not very good for his injured leg, it is more comfortable.

"Then why not heal?" Shadow asked patiently. "If you can't handle it yourself, I can help you."

In the darkness, a pale and slender arm slowly protruded.The ends of the nails shone with light, making them look as dangerous as blades.

And Khalil knew that they were actually far more dangerous than blades.

"Thank you for being sensitive," he said quietly.

The arm was retracted, and the movement was quick, forming an interesting contrast with the slowness of extending it.

"Then, you might have an amputation."

said Shadow. "I haven't had a bone broken, I've only been shot. It's hard to deal with the bullets getting stuck in the flesh. I have to dig them out one by one. The laser gun is more convenient. It just burns the flesh. "

As he spoke, his voice suddenly changed, from a hissing voice to a dreamlike softness. "...Also, the bullet got stuck in the flesh, it hurts."

"Of course bullets hurt the body."

Khalil laughed, unable to stop feeling absurd at the monster's momentary innocence.

It's ridiculous.he thinks.A monster that can tear people apart with a wave of its hand is so innocent.

"Do you hurt too?" Shadow asked.

Khalil glanced at him like an idiot, and then laughed loudly: "Even you can hurt, so why not me? I'm just a mortal, ghost, and I'm different from you."

Shadow remained silent for a longer period of time, apparently disagreeing.

Then he stepped out of the darkness.The clothes made of rags barely formed a long robe on his body. His long dirty hair was scattered behind his head, and there were traces of blood on his pale skin.

Wearing tattered clothes, his appearance is dirty, he is extraordinarily tall, his skin is pale, and his pupils are completely black——the characteristics of a monster, combined, make him look like a ghost in a story.

Ordinary people only need to take a look to know that he does not belong to the normal world.

In fact, ordinary people should not think that he is a human being.

The ghost frowned and asked, "What's the difference? We're all monsters."

"I'm only a monster sometimes."

"You killed 170 people in the past month, every day, every night."

"Who taught you that phrase?"

"you."

"."

Khalil sighed, having to compromise with this overly tall man he called a ghost.

"Listen, ghost. I'm a monster for a reason, I kill in this city because—"

"—Justice?" Specter interrupted him eagerly, asking with eagerness in his eyes.

"No." Khalil replied coldly. "Justice doesn't exist, ghost. Justice is the biggest lie in the world."

Ghost nodded in disappointment, then pointed to Khalil's right leg.This time, Khalil couldn't ignore it anymore.

Khalil raised his right hand, and his pupils, which were as dark as those of all Nostramos, suddenly lit up with blue light at this moment.

The temperature dropped sharply, and deep frost condensed on the legs of the chair.The ghost stared at them, followed the direction of the frost spreading, and looked at Khalil's legs.

The bloodstains, wounds, and the weird shape created by the twisted bones on the skin all disappeared at this moment.

"call"

Khalil sighed deeply, deeply.His eyes returned to normal at this moment, and there was peace in his dark eyes that were bottomless.

Ghost looked at him, but didn't speak for a while.After the silence spread for a while, he spoke again: "You shouldn't rely too much on this power.

"If it's going to help us with what we're trying to do, I'll keep using it."

"It's dangerous."

"how do you know?"

"I" ghost did not answer.

He didn't know how to explain this to Khalil—the ghost knew many things innately, like instinct.He even knows a word to describe this talent.

Born to know it.

"Is it as dangerous as other things in this city?" Khalil didn't care about the ghost's hesitation.He stood up and asked.

He walked out of the room with strong and vigorous steps, and it was not at all obvious that half a minute ago he was a person who was injured enough to be amputated.

The outside of the room was empty, with a cold wind blowing.

This is the roof of a tall building. A year and a half ago, Khalil built a small illegal building here.The security personnel in charge of the inspection did not find out. In fact, whether they exist or not is another matter.

In this way, he had a little shelter.

And six months ago, the ghost came.Or, Midnight Ghost.

A name that has only been circulated in a small area in Quintus so far, it is far inferior to the "vengeful spirit".After all, the Vengeful Spirit had literally been killing people in the city for a year and a half.

Every day, every night.

"There are gangs everywhere, and twisted monsters everywhere. The nobles of the upper hive only need to sit comfortably in their luxurious chairs to receive tax money from these dogs they raise."

"And those workers who sleep in shanty towns, those poor people, they have only two ways. First, they are forced to die in the factory. They are poor and often face beatings and squeezes, and they can't even feed themselves. Second, join Gangs, oppressing others."

Khalil turned his head with a half-smile: "Which one do you think most people will choose?"

Ghost didn't answer, he still stood at the door of the room and didn't come out.The darkness was extremely thick behind him.

"There is no doubt that they will choose the second option. And those who did not choose, it does not mean that they do not want to, they just can't. Bullying others requires a strong body, at least young. Otherwise, the gang will not even will want you"

Khalil didn't speak any more, he suddenly fell into deep thought.

A terrible flame more heart-burning than poison began to burn and spread on this pale and young face, forcing him to grit his teeth and frown together.

The ghost didn't bother him.

It was a long time before the ghost rejoined the conversation.

He asked softly and hissed, "Can killing solve everything?"

"No." Khalil replied without hesitation.

"Killing can only lead to more killing. I wipe out a corrupt official, and there will be twenty people with sharpened heads who will squeeze in his place. I kill a gang leader, and more than forty gangs will come. Take his place."

"So, can we find another way?"

"We can't, Ghost," Khalil said, and then he paused.

He turned his head, his black hair was gently blown by Nostramo's dirty wind: "...not now."

"If you find it, please tell me." Ghost said seriously. "Nostramo is sick, I can see, and I want to make it better."

Once again, Khalil laughed mockingly at his innocence.Only this time, after laughing, he nodded.

"Good," said Khalil Rohars.

He didn't even ask why, just like he never asked why the Night Ghost was so powerful.

It's just that Khalil Rohars still doesn't know who he is making a promise to.
-
The priest of the Dormition Church is dead.

At six o'clock in the morning in the hive of Quintus, in a world where there is no light at all, the news spread like wildfire and began to spread.

And most people don't really care, for one thing, they don't know who the priest in the Dormition Church is.Secondly, in Nostramo there is practically no difference between morning and night.

Nostramo is a night star.No one knows the reason, maybe the upper class nobles know, but how many people would care?

Most people don't even care about the alternation of night and day, so how can they care about the death of a priest?They don't even know who he really is.

Well, Razor cares.

And Razor knew who the priest was.

Razor - An unassuming gang leader on Nostramo, like all other gang leaders, he also treats everyone in his territory as he pleases.

In Nostramo, there are no laws and enforcers, only gangs.They are loyal to the upper nobles, maintain a false order, and collect taxes. Gangs replaced the nobles, divided and ruled every place in Nostramo.

In addition to this, they will also kill for no reason, and even commit deeper atrocities. All these actions, for Razor and his gang, are actually just a way to establish their own prestige.

Just as wild animals constantly use body odor to mark their territory, gangs will continue to kill civilians to ensure their rule-as for how many civilians died in the process, no one cares.

In Nostramo, all gang members do this.

But the razor, known for its brutality, is now a headache.

"How did you die?"

Standing outside the church, Razor asked.Diagonally opposite him stood a woman in a white cloth robe and a mask.Her right hand is made of metal and looks very delicate.

"It was cut open," the woman said, her tone thoughtful.

"In other words, it was dismantled. All the things in his stomach were taken out and sorted out in a very clever way. The man also took out half of his spine and hung him under the statue. "

Razor cursed in a low voice, the woman shook her head, took off her mask, threw it on the ground, and said the last sentence: "By the way, there are still a few words on the statue, written in blood, it seems to be reserved for your."

"I?"

Razor's eyes widened, and a moment later he stormed into the church angrily.

(End of this chapter)