Listening to their conversation, Charles was shocked. He didn't expect that Tuba and 134 actually knew each other, and from the tone of their voices, they had known each other for four hundred years.
Glancing at the Narwhal not far away, Charles' prosthetic limb turned into a chainsaw and quickly slashed along the lower part of his body.
The insect's legs broke one after another, spurting out green blood. Charles stepped on the soft flesh and pounced towards 134 like a cheetah.
134, who was roaring at Tuba, didn't even turn his head. He raised his left hand and Charles was suspended in the air by the familiar telekinesis.
"Click, click, click" the gears inside Charles' prosthesis turned rapidly, and the sharp anchor hook shot straight towards 134's petite body.
134's body quickly floated upwards, avoiding Charles' attack. Because of the avoidance, the restraints on Charles disappeared.
How could Charles waste such a good opportunity? He reached for his waist with his right hand and found a revolver in his hand, pointing the muzzle at the 134 rounds.
Faced with the bullet attack, 134 was unable to resist for a while. Charles's aim was very accurate. He would shoot at the moment when she was about to counterattack. She failed several times when she approached.
But there was no sign of anxiety on her face. Instead, there was a playfulness on her face, as if she was a cat playing with a mouse.
"Listen to me. Why do we have to do this? Can't we all sit down and discuss it properly?" Tuba, with a gloomy face, tried to persuade him earnestly. But no one on either side listened to him.
Charles' bursts of shooting continued, and just as the bullet made a small hole in 134's beautiful purple skirt.
A pale white bone flute with several round holes suddenly emerged from the flesh and blood on the ground. It first knocked the revolver away, and the next second it pierced Charles' abdomen.
Charles looked at the ground in disbelief and saw a black human-shaped smoke floating out from the flesh and blood of the "king".
Its erratic hand grabbed the bone flute inserted into Charles' hand. The smoke on its arm solidified, and it pulled the bone flute out suddenly.
The walnut-sized round wound on Charles' abdomen kept gushing blood.
"Oh my God, what are you doing? Why is there bleeding?"
Tuba quickly got up from the ground, ran to the staggering Charles, took out some dirty papers, and randomly stuck them on Charles' wounds.
But soon, these things were washed away by Charles' blood, and the things in Tuba's hands were as useless as before.
The black mist stopped attacking and rolled up Tuba beside it and floated behind 134, hovering like a servant.
Charles, with a pale face, looked at his strange appearance, then looked at 134 next to him, and suddenly he understood something.
He covered the wound tightly with his hand, endured the pain and said: "You, "King" Tuba and this one, you all escaped from the second laboratory, right? In fact, the king of Sodom does not refer to a certain person, but to the four living relics of you, right? No, or there are more, more than four?"
"Hehehe, it seems you know us quite well." 134 skipped to the revolver that had fallen on the ground, bent down and picked it up.
The big gun and the tender little white hands seem so inconsistent, but this scene makes people feel cold.
Charles looked around quickly, and when he saw a flash of red on the sea in the distance, he suddenly laughed in a low voice.
"What are you laughing at? Is it funny that you're dying?"
134 pulled out the wheel of bullets, and when he saw that there were still three brass bullets left in it, he reloaded it and aimed at Charles with one eye.
"Hahaha!! We are relics? You are as ignorant as the people in the Foundation! We are the lucky ones in this world. As for you inferior humans, you are just some lowly bugs."
"I've been to the second laboratory, and I've witnessed the torture the Foundation inflicted on you, but this is a bit too much. Don't forget, you were also a human being before." Charles said, staring at the little girl in front of him.
As if irritated by Charles, 134's face twisted. "How long have you been there and you dare to say you know me? A day? A week? A month? Do you know how long I was in that hell!! I was there for a full 30 years! Every human being has a disgusting original sin!! They are not my kind at all!"
"Crack" 134's chubby face cracked like glass. In the cracks, dark vertical pupils filled with hatred were crowded and staring inside. At this moment, she looked like a ghost.
The monster-like 134 raised the toy-like revolver in his hand towards Charles, with a cruel smile on his face. "Hehehe, it must be very beautiful to see the bullet passing through your head."
Tuba next to her had an anxious look on his face. He kept taking out some garbage from his pocket and gesturing at 134, trying to stop her with those things, but his things were just some ordinary garbage and were of no use at all.
Suddenly Tuba stopped, he breathed a sigh of relief, then turned around and looked at the black fog next to him with a simple smile, he stretched out his hands and firmly grasped its flute.
"Goma, long time no see. Your flute is so beautiful, can you lend it to me?"
"Bang bang bang!" Gunshots rang out, and three bullets shot out of the gun barrel and flew towards Charles.
At the moment 134 pulled the trigger, Charles quickly rolled to the right and threw something at her.
"Bang!" A flash of blood appeared on Charles' left shoulder. He only dodged two out of three shots.
At this moment, Charles felt dizzy and he had lost too much blood, but he never gave up and stumbled towards the beach.
The black mist next to him was about to rush over to stop them, but he found that his bone flute was held tightly by Tuba.
Seeing the black mist-like head looking at him, Tuba simply hung his legs on the bone flute.
134 stood still and did not launch the next attack. She held a photo in her hands and stared at it blankly. The cracks on her face slowly healed.
It was a portrait of a family of three, the same photo that Mih had given to Charles.
The bullet made a hole in the child's head. On both sides of the hole were a couple, who were smiling brightly.
134 She looked at it with a strange look in her eyes, as if she was constantly recalling something. Gradually, the hostility on her face dissipated, and a few tears fell from her eyes and dripped onto the photo.
With a "splash", Charles in the distance rushed into the cold sea.
134's lips were tightly pursed, and he kept enduring, but finally he couldn't bear it anymore and burst into tears like a real 6-year-old child would do.
Hearing the crying, Tuba quickly put down the bone flute, ran over distressedly to hug her, and patted her shoulders with his hands, "Don't cry, don't cry, Grandpa is here. Grandpa is here."
The white flesh on the ground squirmed and rose into a ball, pressing lightly on her body.
(End of this chapter)