Cthulhu America, I can see the kill line.

There was once a mayor.

He asked his secretary.

"The lower-class commoners always say that life is full of suffering, setbacks, and despair. What are those things?"

The secretary answered frankly:

"Mayor, that's just idle complaining. Hills is doing just fine."

The mayor nodded approvingly, quite satisfied with the secretary's irrelevant answer.

One night, on the way home after a banquet, the mayor, drunk, asked his driver a question.

"How about we go for a drive down town?"

"Mayor, you must be joking."

The driver gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

The mayor noticed his fear and unease.

Are you afraid? Of the suffering, frustration, and despair of the people of the lower town?

The driver looked embarrassed and could only continue to offer compliments.

"No, it's just that the traffic in the downtown area is congested, making it unsuitable for a drive."

This piqued the mayor's curiosity, and he unceremoniously ordered the march to the lower city.

The driver dared not refuse and did as instructed.

Half an hour later, the vehicle was intercepted by soldiers using enhanced agents, and the two men were locked in a stinking shack.

"Damn it, I'm the mayor, Mayor Hills!"

The mayor yelled at the veterans who were handcuffed to him.

"Mayor? I'm the President!"

The muscular veteran answered him with a fist the size of a sandbag and sarcastic remarks filled with vulgarities.

Even if the mayor wears an expensive evening gown, even if his gold watch and rings signify his status, even if he can resolve the matter by simply picking up the phone and dialing a number.

Those vulgar veterans showed no mercy as they seized all his belongings and crushed his phone.

He was locked in this stinking shack for three days and three nights.

The cold wind poured in through the cracked walls, whipping his skin and causing it to bleed.

The mayor understood what suffering was.

He was unwilling to be trapped here.

The mayor was in the shack, talking with the other people who had been arrested and brought there.

He was surprised to find that everyone there was male, and all of them were emaciated, looking like they had never eaten enough.

"Does anyone have a cell phone? If you have one, I'll lend it to you to make a call, and I promise I'll get you all out of here!"

He ripped off his gold watch and diamond ring, displaying them among the dejected people in the shack, shouting "Barter!" just to gain the right to communicate with the outside world.

But no one paid any attention to him.

These are lower-class refugees who haven't had a full meal since winter began. Not to mention they have no means of contacting the outside world, they are so hungry that they can't even see the glitter of their gold watches and diamond rings.

The mayor understood what setbacks were.

A week later, a heavily armored soldier, four or five heads taller than him, dragged him out of the shed.

"Are you the animal who's been constantly nagging about wanting a phone lately?"

The enhanced soldier grabbed the dying mayor and handed him over to the gang leader.

"You really want to connect with the outside world?"

The eldest brother looked at the mayor with a wicked grin and picked up a cell phone, waving it around.

"Let's make a bet. Here's your phone. If you can really save yourself, I won't mind letting you go."

"Conversely, you'll have to neutralize the blood slaves who have been enhanced, how about that?"

A glint of light flashed in the mayor's dying eyes.

He was absolutely certain that as long as he got his phone, he could make a call to his secretary and the person in charge of the lower district, and someone would come to rescue him within ten minutes.

He agreed with great determination and took the phone.

Zero bar signal.

"Didn't anyone tell you that the infrastructure in the downtown area is terrible, and that most areas don't even have cell towers?"

The boss laughed arrogantly and ordered his henchmen to drag the mayor away.

The mayor now understood what despair truly meant.

Blood was slowly drawn out of the body and injected with a tonic mixed with nutrient solution.

This once arrogant mayor lost consciousness in slow, excruciating pain...

……

Yaken suddenly woke up, his forehead covered in cold sweat, panting heavily.

What was that just now?

Was he kidnapped by gangsters and bled to death?

It was a bizarre nightmare that defies description!

Before he could fully recover from the terror of the nightmare, a semi-transparent Eastern face quietly appeared before his eyes.

"Are you feeling better?"

The illusory figure spoke in a calm tone, yet with a chilling penetrating power.

"How does it feel to personally experience how your citizens die?"

Yaken stared at the figure, the lingering terror from the nightmare contorting his face...

He remembered.

He was being judged for his crimes by this god-like intruder!

"Who are you?! Why are you torturing me like this?!"

Akken screamed hysterically, his voice cracking with fear.

"Haven't I suffered enough to atone for my sins?! How much longer... how much longer?!"

"not enough."

The figure gently raised his hand, his fingertips pointing lightly in the air.

Yaken's consciousness became blurred and scattered once again.

"The lament of every dead person will turn into a stubborn stone."

The lamentations of every hundred dead will accumulate into a small mountain.

Every hundred years, a bird will fly in and grind the mountain with its beak.

"Once the mountains are leveled and the dust settles, the first second of your trial will have barely elapsed."

……

The Hero Training Base has three underground floors.

"The mayor still has heart and lung problems, but..."

"But what? Brain death means there are no brainwave signs?"

A medic is using unusual equipment to examine the unconscious Yaken.

Meanwhile, the armed man who appeared to be the captain anxiously pressed for an answer.

"No, quite the opposite..."

The medic frowned, staring at the brainwave frequency displayed on the instrument panel, which was so high it almost seemed to bulge off the screen.

"The mayor's brain is processing information at a speed that's... like a rollercoaster, it's like the instruments are malfunctioning!"

"You bastard!"

The armed man abruptly raised his gun, aiming it at the intruder who had remained standing silently holding the jade, and shouted angrily, "What kind of sorcery did you use on the mayor?!"

Kong Jiu frowned.

In fact, he was also very curious about what his "other self" had done.

When the "Future Kongjiu" touched Yaken's brow, its figure disappeared along with Yaken as he fell, leaving only itself to confront these soldiers.

"Calm down, everyone, calm down."

Kong Jiu raised his free hand and calmly advised against it.

"From beginning to end, I've just stood still, haven't I?"

The armed men exchanged brief glances, but aside from a more wary look, they were at a loss for what to do.

"If your purpose here is to behead someone, and you've cast a curse on the mayor..."

The man who appeared to be the captain raised his gun, his eyes fixed intently on Kong Jiu:

"You've miscalculated. Secretary Campbell has issued a secret order: even if the mayor dies, that artifact must be preserved!"

Kong Jiu's eyes narrowed.

They are indeed a well-trained team; even without their employer's command, they will resolutely carry out their mission objectives.

He was not keen to see this scene.

According to what the "future self" just said, only the dead can see him.

Conversely, those armed personnel who couldn't see him wouldn't at least not die here.

In the tense silence, the two sides remained locked in a stalemate, the air seemingly frozen.