Sacrifice, death, have always been very heavy topics.
At the same time, these are topics that can never be avoided in the process of historical development.
Changes in social structure, changes in political systems, and even a substantial development of world history as a whole, will and must be accompanied by a massive amount of death.
If time is a book, there is a magical pen that writes history onto this book.
Then death and souls are the ink used to do the writing.
Without ink, one can never write a brilliant, long poem.
Just as revolution is forever accompanied by death, otherwise this is bound to be an unsuccessful revolution--
If the losers are not swept into the trash heap, how can this be a successful revolution?
Lin Qi was a very good persuader, and Small Earl also hardened his heart.
After dinner in the evening, the police began to deploy in large numbers. On the surface they were maintaining urban order, but in reality they were arresting those who were parading and demonstrating.
Sometimes pedestrians who gathered in groups of three or five on the road without holding up banners were also arrested.
In just one hour, the long-empty prisons were packed with people once again.
"What did I do?", a bearded worker waved his arms at two police officers.
He had just been out drinking with three former colleagues, and on his way back he ran into patrolling police.
He swore that other than making some slightly unfriendly gestures toward the police at first, they had no substantive harm or intention to harm these police officers.
Expressing one's dissatisfaction to the police, wasn't that a tradition of Gefra? In the past they would do that too, shouting something loudly at passing patrolmen; it was just like a