Chapter 587

433. On Madness

"Oh my!" Zuo He, dressed in women's clothing and holding his own clothes, began strutting boldly down the road.

He first glanced to see if his revolver could still function after getting wet.

Then he pulled out his mobile phone.

"Oh! The phone is useless too!" Zuo He looked at the soaked, non-functional phone, then casually tossed it onto the road. "Truly a useless thing. My gun is far more reliable; it can still fire even when wet."

"Come to think of it, how did I know it could fire?" Zuo He burst into inexplicable laughter. "Then there's no way out. Don't blame me!"

Having said that.

Zuo He pulled out a black revolver, then aimed it at his own temple.

His finger rested on the trigger, then applied slight pressure.

"Click!" went a sound.

Zuo He wore an expression of surprised delight. "Hahaha! I forgot to load the bullets."

"Where are the bullets, where are the bullets? Where are the bullets?" Zuo He began patting himself down.

Just then.

A middle-aged man wielding a cleaver charged out at Zuo He.

Barefoot, he sprinted rapidly along the highway, his eyes bulging as if about to burst, tears nearly streaming from them. "You madman! I will kill you!"

He kept shouting.

Behind him.

A young Miss hid in a woman's embrace, weeping.

The woman too shed tears as large as beans, her body trembling uncontrollably as she sobbed incessantly.

Watching the middle-aged man rushing toward him.

Zuo He tilted his head and asked in surprise, "Kill me? You want to, kill me? That won't do. Have you ever heard a saying? When a person is killed, they die! Am I about to die?"

Zuo He kept waving his hands and saying.

Only to see.

The middle-aged man had already reached right before him.

He aimed at Zuo He, raising the cleaver high in his hand, his body casting a deep black shadow beneath the scorching sun.

The cleaver constantly reflected light, shining directly into Zuo He's eyes.

But this madman, Zuo He.

He did not avoid the sun's glare at all; instead, he widened his eyes. "You want to kill me!"

Zuo He roared, then immediately burst into laughter again.

The cleaver swung down suddenly.

Heading straight to cleave Zuo He's skull.

The middle-aged man possessed an overwhelming momentum, as if this strike were certain to hit.

Just as the cleaver was mere millimeters from Zuo He's skull.

Zuo He suddenly stepped forward, his movement so fast it was unimaginable; in almost an instant, he sidestepped and appeared to the middle-aged man's right.

Amidst the middle-aged man's shocked gaze.

Zuo He looked coldly at the middle-aged man, then placed his hand on his waist.

"Bang!"

Zuo He's hand did not move.

Yet a gunshot shattered the surrounding silence.

"Splat!"

The bullet pierced the middle-aged man's temple.

It shot precisely into his brain.

Penetrating the entire head, it then flew out the other side.

A huge amount of blood instantly gushed forth.

Before he even realized he had been shot, the knife in his hand still swung toward Zuo He's previous position.

The result was that the force of the bullet pushed him back a small step.

"Thud!" went a sound.

The middle-aged man, still holding the pose of cleaving a person, fell powerlessly to the ground.

His eyes were wide open, clearly unaware of what had happened.

He reached out to prop himself on the ground, but could exert no force; he could not even move his hands.

"Giggle-giggle-giggle!" He tried to make a sound, but could not; only a stifled, faint noise emerged.

Pain.

Arrived slowly with time.

Like a warning bell struck.

Pain surged forth like a tide.

Letting him experience pain for the first and last time.

The mother and son behind him, witnessing everything that had just occurred, stared with widened eyes and slightly open mouths, utterly stunned.

This scene was simply too shocking.

"Husband!"

"Dad!"

The voices came from their mouths.

Along with them came a feeble, hoarse roar.

"Oh oh oh!" Zuo He's cold gaze instantly shifted; he spoke with a tone brimming with amusement, "Let me see, little kid, hit on the head? Does it hurt?"

"Oh oh oh! Why don't you get up and speak?" Zuo He walked over and gazed slowly at the corpse on the ground, "So you're already dead? I thought you really could kill me—what a waste of my expectations!"

"Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!" Zuo He's expression suddenly changed; he began kicking the corpse on the ground wildly with his feet, shouting furiously, "Aren't you supposed to kill me? Come on! Do it now!"

The middle-aged man's corpse was kicked flying by Zuo He.

Then.

Immediately after.

Zuo He turned his gaze again toward the tree behind him.

A mother and daughter were hugging each other, weeping.

Their bodies trembled uncontrollably.

"Tsk! How boring. People like you deserve hell." Zuo He had no intention of sparing them; he swiftly placed his hand on his waist.

Then came.

Two gunshots.

In this area,

Two more corpses were added.

"Hahaha!" Zuo He began laughing maniacally again.

This time, however, his laughter was even more deranged.

It seemed.

Killing was Zuo He's trigger.

As long as he could kill,

Zuo He would remain in a state of mad frenzy.

"Hmm! What should I do next?" Zuo He tilted his head, holding a black revolver in his left hand and a white revolver in his right.

Another pistol was tucked at his waist.

"Little Black is out of bullets—I need to find more fast, feed it well, or it'll die!" Zuo He suddenly wore a look that was half-sobbing, half-laughing.

"Only ten rounds left—I must find supplies quickly!"

Zuo He thought for a moment, but did not change into the man's bloodstained clothes—he found them filthy.

He looked down at the women's clothing he was wearing and murmured softly, "This is fine. It's actually quite comfortable."

"Hehehe! What should I play next?"

Zuo He walked carefree down the street.