aircannonsinc Chapter 278 The Group with the Deepest Resentment
Chapter 278 The Group with the Deepest Resentment
Chapter 278 The Group with the Deepest Resentment
The homeless man in front of Raphael wouldn't survive the night; he was too weak to communicate normally with Raphael.
So Raphael was communicating with the other through his spirit, and the other's spirit said, "Resentment? Perhaps a little, but more than resentment, I miss my child. He was only six years old when he died in my arms. Fortunately, I am about to die too, and we can finally be reunited."
Raphael was taken aback, then asked, "Then you must be filled with hatred for this world, right? It made you lose your child."
"A little," the homeless man said. "I miss my wife and eldest daughter more; they disappeared on the third day after we were kicked out of our rented room."
"That night, I heard the human traffickers' activities, but I didn't warn my wife and daughter."
"We've been starving for two days. If we've been kidnapped by human traffickers, at least we'll have something to eat."
Raphael remained silent for a long time, then asked, "Do you have any other wishes?"
"I wish I could die soon, this feeling is just too agonizing."
Raphael nodded, snapped his fingers, and a spiritual attack struck the homeless man's weakened spirit, killing him without pain.
Then Raphael approached the second, dying homeless man: "You must be very resentful, right?"
The homeless man continued on a spiritual level, saying, "Yes, I'm so resentful! I shouldn't have let my child go when they were recruiting!"
"He was only twenty-two years old and had a beautiful fiancée, but—my son, he died on the battlefield and will never come back."
Raphael said, "Then you must harbor deep hatred for the Ruen government, right?"
"Hatred?" Tears streamed down the homeless man's face. "Yes, I hate it. I hate that I'm not capable enough to earn enough money."
"My wife fell ill because of our son's death. Perhaps if I had 20 more pounds in savings, no, even 10 pounds, I could have cured her."
"But I didn't—I didn't—I could only watch her leave this world."
"I hate myself—I hate myself—"
Raphael fell silent again: "Do you have any last wishes?"
"Please let me die quickly. I miss my children and wife. After I die, we can finally be reunited." The homeless man's voice was full of longing: "There, there is no war, no disease, and we live happily forever."
Normally, Raphael would have asked him: You've never been to the underworld, how do you know it's a wonderful place?
But he didn't speak. Instead, he snapped his fingers again, and the homeless man died instantly.
Raphael took a deep breath and looked at the other homeless people on the street, wondering if they harbored any resentment or hatred.
After calming down a bit, Raphael asked the third, barely alive homeless man, "Are you unwilling to accept this?"
"Yes, I'm not reconciled." The homeless man suddenly opened his already somewhat cloudy eyes, his spirit expressing his resentment: "Where am I inferior to Wayne? Why was he able to get that crucial order, while I couldn't?"
"I know, I know, because his aunt married a brigadier general—God, this Backlund, this Rune, is so dark! Full of unfair competition."
Raphael's mood finally improved a bit: "Were you a wealthy man in your lifetime?"
"I suppose so," the other person said. "My assets once reached two hundred thousand pounds!"
"This damn Backlund high society makes me spend so much money every year to maintain a respectable image."
"And the incompetent Ruen government, why do they allow so many streetwalkers to live in this world? Why don't they investigate and shut down those bloodsucking casinos?"
"These places drained my savings, and with failed investments, I don't even have the financial means to go back to the countryside and continue running the estate."
He cursed, "Why is this terrible world treating me like this?"
Raphael laughed, "Damn it, go to hell!"
This guy has clearly lost his way in the decadent lifestyle of Backlund's high society, focusing his energy on pleasure, and his career is bound to plummet. He'll end up homeless, hating this and that, but refusing to acknowledge any wrongdoing.
Raphael crushed the man's head with a stomp, then stomped his foot on the road beside him, hoping to shake off the brains and flesh on his shoe, but the bloodstains remained.
He didn't ask any more questions, but instead jumped onto the roof and watched the homeless wandering the streets like zombies, watching those who were exhausted and fell behind, and then died.
Raphael suddenly grinned maliciously: "This truly is a sinful world. Those who have been ruthlessly harmed by this world, yet who should truly resent it, do not hate it. Instead, those who have enjoyed this world are the ones who hate it, hate everyone. Does such a world still have any meaning? The entire upper class should be destroyed!"
At this moment, Raphael suddenly realized something—he had a vague idea about this before, but today, it was very clear to him: it was meaningless for the "Bound Ones" and "Demons" to torment ordinary people in this world; only by using the upper class could they quickly digest the potions from these two sources.
Only those in high society nurture the desires and evils of this world.
Thus, Raphael's long-held goal of "destroying the whole world" was slightly adjusted: destroy the upper part of this world!
If there was a wrongful killing, then so be it! He's a demon, not a judge; there's no time to distinguish between them.
The wind in Backlund was still cold at night, and it carried wisps of mist that kept brushing against Raphael.
Raphael sat there motionless, lost in thought, feeling that this night was extraordinary because it had brought his self-image to life.
When he said he wanted to destroy the world before, it was mostly a joke. But this time it's different. He has made it clear that he wants to destroy the upper echelons of the world and has actually made it his goal.
He felt that even if the world were ruled by demons, it might not be this bad.
Raphael sat there until dawn, when he saw people starting to appear on the streets, some of whom had left home just as day was breaking. Most of them were workers, and most of them were unwilling to take public carriages, choosing instead to walk for more than an hour to their workplaces.
Gradually, the children started going out, and the middle-class family was struggling to make ends meet, so the children had to go out to sell newspapers and do odd jobs.
Raphael saw a seven or eight-year-old child carrying a large box and struggling forward.
Raphael had seen children like this, whose boxes contained shoe-shining tools.
Watching the child struggle forward, Raphael suddenly jumped down from the roof: "Shoe shiner, come here and shine my shoes."
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