Under the colorless sky, in the numb city like a cemetery, three-wheeled motorcycles roar across the numb river.
The driver wore black sunglasses, black clothes, and black leather shoes; the passengers wore black hats, black clothes, and black leather shoes; they were like mourners, ignoring everything that passed by.
A building appeared on the street ahead, with a plaster flag hanging high. In the windless air, the flag looked like a hanging robe. It was a hospital, with stone walls and gray tiles. Ever since a soul who shouldn't have been resurrected here was resurrected here, all the windows of this hospital could no longer be opened to the outside. Outside the windows were cold metal fences, like a huge gray coffin.
The motorcycle passed the helmets and bayonets, entered the yard, and stopped next to the gate.
The driver turned off the engine and was not in a hurry to get out of the car. He took out a cigarette and lit it, then looked at the hospital door through his sunglasses and asked the passenger sitting in the sidecar: "Do you think he is dead?"
"I hope he's dead." The rider leaned back in a more decadent posture, put the black hat in his hand on his face to block the glaring sunlight, and had no intention of getting off the motorcycle.
The delicate face behind the sunglasses smiled, a smile that was both helpless and complicated. Then his leather shoes fell to the ground and he walked lazily towards the door. There was a creaking sound of spring friction accompanied by the two doors shaking in and out. His dark figure disappeared into the hospital. The two doors were still shaking and creaking endlessly.
The passenger remembered the sound, this noisy sound that had been endless behind him, especially at night, when he was standing under the dim door light, bleeding, watching her walk out of the darkness.
A crow flew across the sky without warning, and its obscene shadow silently swept across the yard, over the motorcycle, and over the gray roof. Unfortunately, the passenger who covered his face with a hat could not see the darkness at that moment.
…
The corridor is very long, so long that it seems far away. There are walls and doors on both sides. It is dark even during the day. When some doors are suddenly opened and nurses go in and out, the corridor suddenly becomes bright, like the light that saves lives.
He didn't need to ask, he just walked towards the door he thought was the ward, because there were two statue-like gendarmes standing outside the door, and one of the gendarmes had already started smiling at him and calling him Li Sang.
The target of the rescue was not dead but was still in a coma. Li Youcai walked into the ward on the pretext of visiting. The patient on the bed was strong, pale, haggard, and unconscious face still revealed a hint of fortitude, and he really looked like a pillar of the country.
Can the person who saves the pillars of the country be considered the pillars of the country? Such a boring question made the black dog traitor stand in a daze in the ward where everything was white but still dark. The world is like an abyss, how high can the pillars be? Looking up, he couldn't even touch the cold ceiling in the ward.
…
Hu Yi, who was dazed on the motorcycle, suddenly felt very strange. He didn't understand why he still felt cold when the sun was shining on him. Whenever he felt cold in his heart, he must have thought that the world was too quiet. Then he realized that the windless world under the sun was unusually quiet, and then he realized how familiar the slight sound outside the door was.
The sharp blade cuts through the skin, slices through the flesh, and is then slowly pulled out, accompanied by that sound. The sharp metal rubs against the blood, as if he had felt the familiar feeling countless times every time he thrust the bayonet into the enemy's body.
He lifted his hat, dropped his shoes, and stood in the sun facing the gate of the courtyard. There was an empty space between the two gate pillars. Two Japanese guards should have been standing there, but they were gone. Only his own shadow was left quietly under his feet.
Hu Yi couldn't help but start to retreat, step by step, very slowly and lightly. The gun left the holster, came out of the sheath coldly, like an awakened metal demon, and immediately began to ruthlessly sniff the breath of death in the air.
His back had already touched the two spring doors, but he still didn't dare to put down the gun or look back. He just kept retreating until the two doors were leaned open, and then reset and closed again, creaking and swaying in front of the gun. The environment immediately darkened, and he turned around and ran quickly into the corridor, wanting to find Li Youcai and leave this damn place through the back door.
…
Bang—the two doors were hit and kicked inward by a fierce external force, hitting the walls on both sides of the doors. Dazzling light suddenly poured into the corridor. At that moment when time stood still, several figures stood quietly in the dazzling light outside the door, wearing Zhong Kui paper masks and holding guns.
Bang! The two doors closed naturally due to elastic force, knocking over the first person who tried to rush into the hospital. The Zhong Kuis behind were so shocked that they didn't have time to think about why the door could return to its original position automatically. Of course, they didn't dare to kick it again, so they pushed it gently and filed in!
Three men in Zhong Kui masks stood side by side, holding their revolvers horizontally, rushing into the corridor like killer gods, shooting madly at all the panicked people in the corridor. Bullet shells fell to the ground with every step, and the narrow and dark space made the sound of gunfire as shocking as lightning and thunder, mixed with echoes.
The Zhong Kui mask behind kicked open every door as it followed, followed by screams and gunshots. The dark corridor gradually brightened up, and each Zhong Kui mask became clearer and more ferocious.
Blood-red flowers began to bloom on the pale wall, some dots like plum blossoms, some large flakes like peonies, and they hung down the wall brightly like branches and vines, strangely beautiful.
…
Hu Yi failed to reach the place he wanted to go. He had just walked halfway down the corridor when a bullet from behind had already grazed his shoulder, whizzed forward, and forced him to crash directly into the nearest ward door.
It was bright outside the window, but the dusty metal fence cut it into even strips, which immediately became infinitely distant. The sound of gunfire continued to explode in the corridor, draining the last trace of expression from his stern face.
He slammed the door shut and locked it. He didn't care that the wounded Japanese soldier on the bed was looking at him in shock. He grabbed the bed and pushed it towards the door. The legs of the bed rubbed against the ground rapidly, making a harsh noise. The sound broke the heart of the Japanese soldier on the bed, but he was unable to struggle out of bed.
Bang—the door and its frame were kicked by an external force and shook violently, and the dust fell. The room was in four corners, and the door occupied one corner. Hu Yi stepped back with the gun in hand, and chose to lean against the diagonal corner, then quickly removed the ten-round magazine in the gun, replaced it with a twenty-round long magazine, and stared at the door through the muzzle, waiting for it to break, waiting to face it.
Bang! The second violent tremor of the door and its frame caused the wounded Japanese soldier lying on the bed next to the door to scream. He tried to use his waist strength to twist his injured body and roll down. Suddenly, there was a fierce shooting outside the door. Bullet holes appeared on the door one by one, the window was broken, and bullet marks appeared on the wall instantly, accompanied by ricochets. Bullets hit the ward in a disorderly manner.
Suddenly someone shouted in the corridor: "No time to waste!" Then footsteps left quickly. The bed sheet was stained with crimson and spread.
…
Li Youcai tried to escape. When he opened the door of the ward, bullets were whistling in the corridor. A Japanese military police had become a corpse at the door, and another military police was being shot. He held the door frame and refused to fall down. He continued to endure the impact and penetration, and slid down little by little against the outer wall beside the door. The hand that tried to hold the door frame slid down in front of Li Youcai's eyes at the same time, making Li Youcai completely lose the courage to rush out.
He felt cold from head to toe, and his fate would be counted in seconds from now on until the moment he faced the gun.
He had never been able to own a gun for a long time, and he had no regrets now. The gun could not help him escape the call of death. The greatest effect was that it could allow him to struggle for a few more seconds. He would rather regret that he was not Hu Yi.
The door slammed shut, and it was like an extra gunshot, causing light gray to flow down the door frame. The door immediately looked cold, and had become the door of death.
He slid down the wall leaning against the door, and sat dejectedly in the cold. Through the exquisite sunglasses on his nose, he looked at the pillar of the country lying unconscious on the hospital bed. He tried to smile like he used to, but failed!
The corridor is very long and there seem to be countless doors, but this door must be the door of death; the patient in this ward is the messenger of death.
He was still obsessed with why he could no longer smile. He had faced death before, but had never been so confused.
The footsteps of the god of death stopped outside the door: "It must be the devil guarding this room! It must be!"
Bang—it was an obvious heavy kick, and even the walls around the door frame were covered with dust, like a death knell.
Bang! The second collision was more powerful than the previous one. The door bolt was broken and the door frame was cracked, like a gap in the sky.
A few seconds later, with heavy blows and cracking sounds, the door of death swung open, and the messengers of death flashed in the darkness outside the door. Every face was paper, every face was Zhong Kui, and the black lines on the pale background were strangely clear against the darkness of the corridor, as if they had no body but only a face, which diluted the muzzle of each gun in the darkness. They did not move, did not enter the door, and became a painting of death.
The unconscious captain of the commandos was strangled by a traitor in black, who was blocking him in front of him. The muzzle of his gun was pointed at the back of the unconscious man's head, ready to fire.
"You want to save him, right? Unfortunately, I can't give him to you!" The traitor said this in an unusually calm manner.
"Fuck your fucking commandos, you deaf bastard, I said I don't want to die!" As the traitor said this, he suddenly became hysterical, screaming like a curse, with a hideous and broken voice.
However, the picture remained still and he received no answer.
Bang! The sound of gunfire without warning startled the screen. The Zhong Kui mask outside the door subconsciously flashed to both sides and quickly stuck to the walls on both sides of the door.
A faint smoke spread from the muzzle of the gun in the traitor's hand, and a red hole was blasted out of the right ear of the unconscious man. Blood began to flow and dripped onto the white shirt under the black collar of the traitor. The pale face behind the sunglasses finally smiled, without any carefreeness, only hostility.
Finally, there was an answer from the corridor: "Let him go, and we can spare your life!"
The traitor continued to be hysterical: "Fuck you! If you have the guts, blow me and your useless captain with missing ears into pieces right now! Come on! Stand up and kill the traitors! I also want to see how evil my heart is!"
The blood was still dripping, and the white area on the traitor's chest had turned bright red, as if he had been shot.
…
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