[Logic] grabbed Hopkins, who was completely out of strength, and shook him violently. Fatty clumsily manipulated the mechanical arm of [Logic], snatching the J-2011 sniper rifle from Hopkins’ hand, as if picking up a delicate embroidery needle, and threw it far away.
"Damn it, you think you’re so great! Show me how great you are now!" Fatty’s nasty habit of being relentless reared its head again. Even though he had just pretended to be exhausted, in truth, he was not confident he could out-snipe Hopkins. Several times, he had to take great risks to turn the situation around, resulting in quite the mess.
"You forced me to jump off a cliff! Happy now?" Fatty pinched Hopkins with the mechanical hand. The other mechanical hand grabbed Hopkins’ pants.
"Name! Gender! Age! Occupation! Marital status! Or I’ll strip your pants!" Fatty jumped around the cockpit, taunting Hopkins. This scoundrel had no concept of matching wits or the mutual respect between heroes. Anyone who fell into his hands might as well be dead.
Hopkins cried. Falling from heaven to hell in an instant, he never expected this lewd Fatty had set a trap long ago, intentionally luring him to it. As a child, Hopkins had cried before, but he was never afraid of death or powerful enemies. Every time he cried, it was out of extreme grievance. After reaching adulthood, Hopkins had bled countless times, often tasting the blood of his prey amid maniacal laughter. This was the most humiliating moment of his life.
Hopkins had obsessive and fanatical thoughts and beliefs, disciplined and self-controlled. His only interest and hobby was killing! To him, life wasn’t life anymore but targets under his sniper scope. He was confident that as long as the sniper rifle was in his hands, he saw himself as an omnipotent Heavenly God! He absolutely would not allow anyone to surpass him, not even tolerate any degree of failure!
Such a man, now played with and teased by a lewd Fatty, how could he not be aggrieved!
After crying, Hopkins committed suicide, using the poison needle from the ring on his right middle finger. His face still had traces of tears. Death became his inevitable choice. As he plunged the needle into his body, he uttered his last words to Fatty: "You bastard!"
He died with grievances unaddressed. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ N(o)vᴇl(F)ire.nᴇt
"Bastard?!" Fatty yelled angrily, "Did you say no Mecha? Did you say it?!"
The poison worked quickly on Hopkins; his face was already turning green.
Fatty stared at Hopkins in a daze. He couldn’t understand why these people took suicide so lightly, as if it were a game. Did they really not care about life, neither their own nor others’?
Fatty felt bewildered. This had been the most dangerous battle of his life, where he could’ve lost his life to the opponent’s sniper rifle at any moment. His opponent was an unparalleled sniper, a cold-blooded warrior honed through endless slaughter of living targets. Fatty didn’t even know how he had managed to survive this long. He had just kept dodging, shooting, running desperately! Every second was a fight, a struggle!
In the end, the opponent who had participated in this death game suddenly said, "You’re cheating, I’m not playing anymore!" and then killed himself, exiting the game. Fatty had seen this result many times, but he still couldn’t accept it!
He sighed, finally collapsing in the cockpit. The duel had drained all his energy; he just wanted a good sleep.
Before falling into slumber, Fatty took one last look at Hopkins’ lifeless face, still held in [Logic]’s grasp, and fell asleep with a trace of confusion.
How many more people would there be in future wars?!
Can’t continue writing, my headache is severe. This Chapter is free, consider it an addition to s.
A new day has begun; if any brothers still have monthly tickets, please help out! Don’t hold back!
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