Early that morning, dazzling sunlight flooded the inside of the coffin.
No. 11's broken, shattered corpse lay like sludge, giving off a heavy stench of blood that spread through the fresh air and drifted into everyone's nostrils.
On either side of the coffin, Ren Ye and Xu Qingzhao exuded a savage, primal air, their chests heaving as heavy breaths poured from their mouths and noses.
As his eyes swept over the pulp inside the coffin, Ren Ye felt, for an instant, that the civilized air he had cultivated over twenty-odd years in modern society seemed to have... vanished completely at this moment.
He had once worked in anti-fraud, and even after his colleague was brutally tortured to death, he had still needed a suitable reason to take revenge, to carry out procedural justice, and had paid for it with a prison sentence.
Moreover, although that approach might have won some applause, society would certainly never accept it.
But things were different inside the Star Gate.
Culture, civility, reverence, law-all those "restraints" were utterly torn apart at this moment by the Star Gate's most primitive, most extreme rules.
He was unsure whether losing that "civilized air" was good or bad.
But in terms of his physical response, this moment was undoubtedly exhilarating-utterly, overwhelmingly satisfying!
In his heart, Ren Ye did not classify his motive for "pounding No. 11 to pieces alive" as "self-defense," or justify it as "if I don't kill you, you'll kill me, so I have to kill you."
That excuse was a little shameless, a little hypocritical. It generally suited a defendant's defense of himself in a civilized society's courtroom.
But in the Star Gate world, there was absolutely no need for that sort of "self-defense," or even to explain yourself to anyone.
*I fucking smashed you to