"Give me a suitable distance, even gods can kill!" - Warlord Zero
The dream is like a faded old photo, shrouded in dim colors.
"Hahaha... ... Come and chase me..."
"... idiot... you have to come back alive..."
"What? Propose to me when you come back? I... I didn't say I want to marry you..."
"... unless... you bring nine hundred and ninety-nine roses... then I will marry you... Hahaha..."
The silver bell-like laughter echoed in the dream, soft and cheerful.
That swaying white figure, like a lily in the wind, is so tender and tender that people feel pity.
A face that cannot be seen clearly, but a pair of clear eyes flashed. Whose figure is reflected in those gentle eyes
"Li..." In the dream, he gently called out a name, but there was no response.
Just like in the past, the dream gradually disappeared like a bubble, and he was about to fall into a deep sleep for an unknown period of time.
This time, however, something unexpected happened.
Dimly, he seemed to hear some other voices.
"...Damn it... I thought I'd find some treasure, but it turned out to be a stinky man!"
"Hahaha, Hans. Didn't you even fuck men when you became horny? I've heard that the thirteen-year-old kid from the Rumba family was fucked by you."
There was a burst of unbearable laughter.
"Shut up! Be careful that I poke your chrysanthemum. However, this kid looks quite pretty. I haven't fucked a handsome man from the old days, so I might be able to open my chrysanthemum today."
Amid Lang's laughter, he suddenly felt something touch his body.
A signal was sent out from the depths of consciousness, and dozens of data were immediately transmitted to all parts of the body. His body, which had been in deep sleep for an unknown amount of time, gave him a rusty feeling, but his movements were only about 5 percent slower than in his heyday. The body first moved 30 centimeters sideways, then sat up suddenly, and habitually moved his hand to the right, feeling a cold metal sensation.
The arm was raised, bringing the cold and heavy object upwards. He didn't open his eyes slowly until he felt the touch of the real object.
After a short period of discomfort, his eyes gradually focused, and he saw a wretched face. Judging from the brown hair and pale skin, the other party should be a Caucasian. But now, the owner of this face, his chin was propped up by a shiny black gun barrel, and there was a complex expression of fear and anger intertwined in his eyes.
"God, he's awake."
"Hey, kid. Let go of Hans, or we won't be polite to you!"
A chaotic voice came from behind the white man, and he looked over the "hostage" in his hand. There were more than a dozen men dressed as miners, with black and white skin, and even two yellow men. In their hands were weapons, if shovels and brass hammers could be called weapons. There is no doubt that they turned all these tools of violence on him.
He was silent, and the chaotic images in his mind could not be sorted out into something called memory. He didn't know where he was now, who he was facing, and he didn't even remember who he was. Faintly, a picture of him wearing a straight military uniform flashed through his mind.
Perhaps, he is a soldier? Maybe!
This is a question that has no answer, but even while he was thinking, his hand was as firm as cast iron, and the black barrel of the miniature automatic machine gun held in his hand never moved even a single millimeter.
Anyone can see that this miniature machine gun can instantly shoot Hans' head into a hornet's nest.
Being pressed against the barrel of the gun, Hans was already drenched in sweat. The hateful thing is that he didn't even dare to change his posture to make himself stand more comfortably, let alone move. That would cause the other party to misunderstand, and in the next second, hundreds of bullets would turn his head into a rotten balloon.
After this confrontation lasted for a minute, Hans' legs began to tremble. Seeing that the situation was about to get out of hand, a man appeared in the crowd at this time, and the people of various races surrounding him retreated to the two sides, and an old man walked in.
This man obviously belonged to two very different classes from the miners.
He was wearing a frayed leather jacket and a grey-blue dungaree checked shirt. The lower body is a pair of jeans with oil stains, and a pair of black military boots on the feet. This kind of collocation is naturally nondescript, but compared with these scantily clad miners, it is completely different.
The old man was smoking a pipe, his eyes gleamed like poisonous snakes, wandering around him and Hans. Finally, he said in a deep voice: "Let him go, survivor. You can use a gun, which is good, it shows that you are a fighter. My old Jack is lacking talents like you, fighters like you, no You have to argue with a dog like Hans, don't you?"
Despite the gun being pressed to his chin, Hans' eyes still flashed with resentment.
He opened his mouth, and said in a soft but slightly hoarse voice: "How can I trust you?"
Old Jack exhaled a smoke ring and said slowly: "In this base, I am God, and no one dares to violate my voice, so don't worry, these bastards dare not trouble you. Besides, you have a gun in your hand , although it is a gun from the old days, it is enough to shoot anyone including me."
"It's just that if you killed us all, no one would tell survivors like you what the world is like now." Old Jack added.
The barrel of the gun left Hans' jaw little by little. The latter's legs gave way and he fell to the ground, and several miners behind him hurried up and pulled him down.
He sat up straight, the minigun by his lap. The muzzle of the gun was still facing everyone, maintaining a posture of being ready to shoot at any time.
Old Jack seemed to turn a blind eye to the machine gun. He walked up, took out his pipe and asked, "Welcome to the era of the end of the world, but no matter what, life has to go on. So, would you mind telling me your name?" ,survivor?"
name
Honestly, he couldn't remember. But he noticed that there was the word "ZERO" on the thing he was in, which was similar to the hibernation chamber.
So, he raised his head and said the name that will be chanted by countless people: "My name is... Zero..."
"Zero..." Old Jack muttered this concise name, and at the same time noticed that this man named Zero had a pair of eyes of different colors.
The left eye is pitch black, no different from ordinary yellow people.
However, his right eye was a dazzling golden color. Like the eyes of a dragon, the edges of the eyeballs seem to be plated with gold, but there are silver lines. Just like his origin, there is a mysterious flavor.