To Four Thousand Years Later

After armed soldiers stormed the court, they were frightened by Michaelot.

The man's face was extremely ordinary, pale and freckled. His hair was messy and dry, and he was short in stature, with a slightly curved back. It seemed like there was nothing to be afraid of.

His clothes were dyed a very uniform dark red, and his face seemed to be sprayed with a thin mist. Countless tiny blood beads clinged to his face, which was already in a semi-dry state.

Michelot, on the other hand, didn't even wipe it, but just stared at the court gate like a sculpture. Just being swept by that gaze made people tremble unconsciously in their hearts.

His hands, like the defendant's, were still firmly behind him—as if bound by invisible handcuffs. But even so, no one will be able to squeeze out a little more courage because of this.

To their horror, the demon seemed to be staring straight at the door... waiting for their arrival.

What is he going to do?

Has he not killed enough?

Is he going to kill and shed blood in this holy court?

...they shouldn't have pushed for the abolition of the death penalty.

The gray-haired James Harrington walked out from the crowd, and he did not hide his disgusted gaze at Zi 2.

As the chief judge of the Frankish High Court, he should not have been involved in such a dangerous matter. But after hearing that Mikarot broke out of the prison arrogantly and went all the way to the court, he still got up from the hospital bed and came here stubbornly regardless of anyone's dissuasion. According to his own statement—his life has already been ruined for a long time. It would have been a blessing to him to die in the court he loved, while he maintained the justice and majesty of the law. It would be false to say that he did not want a peaceful death.

But compared with dying in bed little by little, I can die impassionedly. It can also draw a magnificent end to his life.

So when everyone remained silent, only old James stood up. He looked at Michelot with deep hatred, and cursed loudly: "If it weren't for this, you should have been executed for the numerous crimes you have committed!

"You devil, executioner, you don't even have a reason to be forgiven! If this law is fair enough, you should have died long ago, and you should have gone to **** long ago!"

James' hoarse, almost growling curses were heard. The others turned pale with fright, fearing that the old man's head would fall to the ground with the black light flashing. But Michaelot just looked at him like a wooden man.

He has no particularly intense joy, nor any pain or resentment.

He just stared at the old James.

"You said so.

Michelot tilted his head slightly, and murmured in a very soft voice: "But you... what have you been up to?

"Why does the brave man who can save everyone appear only when things are irreparable? Does it matter who dies first? Hearing this, old James didn't hesitate at all.

He just said in a deep voice: "The law doesn't treat everything fairly, it's just because the law is not perfect, not because the law has no value for its existence.

"It is always better and more comprehensive as it is renewed from generation to generation. No matter what misfortune and injustice you have suffered, you cannot avenge it by destroying the law.

"You said so.

Michelot replied again, "But this is not revenge. Without waiting for old James to say anything else, Michelot asked again: In your opinion, should I be sentenced to death?"

"With the crimes you have committed, it is not too much to die thousands of times.

replied old James.

"Then what do you think, those officials killed by me. Should they be sentenced to death?"

After asking this question, the old man was silent for a while. It took a long time for old James to seriously answer: "They should be sentenced to death-but not by you. Not by me. But by the law." Hearing this, Michaelot finally smiled with relief.

But the dripping blood on his face made him look like a devil with such a grin.

"This country is saved.

He said sincerely: "Thank you for letting me know that a human being can be saved. Justice can exist.

Realizing what Michelot meant, the expression on the old man's face gradually changed. In its place was an expression of great complexity—combined with seriousness, hesitation, anger, and pity.

Michaelot raised his hands slowly from behind, and raised his hands to everyone as if embracing the sky.

But just this one action scared everyone back and raised their guns.

They had already been terrified by Michaelot.

Michelot, however, did not attack them.

He just showed a devilish smile, and said impassionedly: "I, Michelot! I am a devil, and I deserve death!

"But you can't sentence me to death - because the death penalty was abolished in this country just yesterday! No matter how many guards I kill, no matter how many times I escape, no matter how many innocent people I kill, no one can sentence me to death!

"You have no right to kill me! Because the law protects me!"

His voice is like a needle.

Every word punishes the heart.

"You Michelot's face suddenly became solemn: "Do you think there is nothing wrong with this? Do you think I'm human too? I'm worth saving too? My life is as precious as yours, and his voice is deafening.

His words are full of fiery rage: Do you actually think that prison is a good place to attract people to do good? Did the gentleman who made such an insult really go to jail? Do they know what kind of **** it is there?

"If you want to use prison to attract people to good, why not put all their children in it?"

His face is full of sneer like a clown

"You actually think that a new devil will become an angel when staying with a group of devils? What kind of romantic **** theory is this?

"Listen, a gentleman goes to prison alone. He only learns new vices in addition to the ones he already possesses. They don't come out good because they become I lost my angel. I don't want to go back to hell...that's all.

"And those people - those **** liars! They make you close your eyes, bypass the real society, bypass this **** life, they turn the real problem that needs to be improved into a problem about 'human rights', about 'Civilization', moral self-discipline issues about 'mutual understanding'! Well, great J is gone.

"This suffering is not over at all! Nothing in this world has changed at all! They have time to express their feelings there, why don't they think about what they can do for others? Why don't they think about why there is crime in this world , why is there pain, why do people kill each other?

"You sympathize with the blind, you sympathize with the deaf, you sympathize with the dumb—but you don't want to sympathize with the blind in spirit, the deaf in soul and the dumb in conscience!" Michaelot's words are deafening: "I am here today, with The blood told later generations: the law should never be the opinion of one family! The death penalty will always have its meaning! Justice should be done. The law will be enforced!

"Because the law should be the incarnation of Jinghuo—the more it is feared, the more it is respected!

Even old James couldn't help being moved by his words.

But when the excitement reached the limit, Michelot calmed down instead.

"Now, Mr. Judge.

He asked old James in a low voice: "The defendant, Don Michelault, is he guilty?"

Shocked by Michaelot's words, it took a while for the red-faced old James to recover from his agitation, and said in a deep voice, "He has committed murder, escaped from prison, assaulted the police and many other major crimes, and he deserves to be punished! Unforgivable!

"How should it be handled?"

Michello asked again.

Without hesitation, old James reprimanded word for word: "The only thing to do is the death penalty, and it will be executed immediately.

Michaelot simply replied.

A black line appeared again between his open hands.

Frightened by this familiar scene, a soldier who had experienced the massacre before subconsciously pulled the trigger. But this time, the bullet penetrated Michaelot's arm, and blood flowed in.

He did not resist. Almost at the same time, the soldiers all opened fire. Bullets rained down on Michaelot, his body shook like rags, blood flowed in and out, and his head was cracked. And the last thing he did was to condense the shadow into a bunch and hang it around his neck. But before he hung the other end on the beam, he was shot and killed, with his head tilted and died on the judge's chair. By the time the gunfire died down, his hands and feet were broken, his shoulders were shattered, and his head was mutilated. With him as the center, the blood splashed behind him and splashed on the wall.

People were surprised to find that his blood was also red!

Even the devil can be shot!

Michaelot killed so many people, and he only wanted death! He shook off the hand that was supporting him, and walked slowly, step by step, towards Michelot's body.

He saw that the corners of Yiri's mouth were slightly raised on the tortured and mutilated head.

That smile hasn't changed in the slightest, but looking at it now, it is no longer so scary.

"May you rest in hell.

The old man sighed softly: "The world will be better. He just feels... Michelot is so pathetic.

He only hoped that there would be such news in today's evening paper:

Today, choke killer Don Michellot was sentenced to death by Chief Judge Lumms Harrington of the Frankish High Court.

Execution in court.