I'm a zombie, what's the point of awakening the yellow-haired system?

It felt like countless blades stirring back and forth in her body, making her feel excruciating pain.

"Let me go...let me go..." Her voice became weaker and weaker, almost inaudible.

Her lower abdomen was slightly bulging due to the intense pain, as if it would burst at any time.

The bloating and pain almost made her faint, and her whole body felt like a torn piece of paper that could shatter into pieces at any time.

"Hahaha, you can't hold on any longer?" The third guard's laughter was filled with undisguised sarcasm.

"You...will be punished..." Her voice had become hoarse and her eyes had almost lost focus.

Her body trembled in severe pain, as if she would collapse at any moment.

The helplessness and despair were like a huge net that bound her tightly and made it impossible for her to break free.

When soldiers change shifts, they always have a kind of pride that is hard to conceal.

They pulled up their trousers with satisfaction, with disgusting smiles on their faces, as if they had just participated in a victorious battle.

"Next shift, it's your turn." A soldier patted his companion on the shoulder and grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"It's really enjoyable this time." Another soldier licked his cracked lips, with greed flashing in his eyes.

Their laughter echoed in the dim corridor, sounding particularly harsh.

The howling sounds in the room gradually weakened, as if the broken soul was dissipating bit by bit.

"Don't dawdle, the next shift of brothers are waiting." said a soldier while adjusting his uniform as if he had just attended a formal ceremony.

Chapter 366: Defeat

"Yeah, there's not much time." Another soldier took over, fastening the belt around his waist with his fingers, with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

Their footsteps echoed on the stone floor and gradually faded away.

The sound in the room also faded until no sound could be heard anymore.

"The air here is so bad." A soldier frowned, as if he had just crawled out of a quagmire. He was disgusted by the maid's filth.

"Hurry up and go. If you don't do it now, you'll be killed." Another soldier waved his hand with an indifference as if he saw through everything.

Until their figures gradually disappeared at the end of the corridor, only a dead silence was left.

In the room, the figure of the maid who had once howled miserably was no longer moving, as if she had been completely swallowed up by the endless darkness.

At that moment, the whole world seemed to stand still, and only the cruel reality was silently mocking her helplessness and despair.

Late at night, moonlight shines into the house through the broken window frames, and the faint light casts mottled shadows on the floor.

The house that was once crowded with people now only has a broken body lying there quietly, as if telling the story of an unfinished tragedy.

The maid had already stopped breathing and lay pale on the table, her lifeless face still showing traces of pain.

Her eyes opened slightly, as if she was still seeking a glimmer of hope at the last moment, but that hope had already been crushed by the ruthless reality.

The torn dress was abandoned in the corner, like a pile of useless rags, worthless.

The clothes that once wrapped her slender body have now become a witness to sin, which is unbearable to look at.

The cleaning servants came in one after another, their footsteps sounding particularly abrupt in the silent night.

No one spoke, and everyone lowered their heads tacitly, as if this could help them avoid the invisible oppression.

"Hurry up, clean up this place, or the prince will find you." An elderly servant whispered, with a hint of anxiety and depression in his voice.

"Well, hurry up and don't waste time." Another servant nodded and began to mechanically pick up the debris on the ground.

Their movements were skillful and quick, as if they were accustomed to this kind of scene.

Everyone was careful to avoid any contact with the broken body, as if it was some kind of untouchable taboo.

"This is really... I didn't expect it to be like this." A young servant muttered in a low voice, with a hint of uneasiness in his eyes.

"Stop talking nonsense and get to work." The older servant glared at him and continued to work.

Their movements were cold and efficient, as if they were handling an ordinary object.

In their eyes, that once living body was nothing more than garbage that needed to be cleaned up.

"Okay, that's almost it." The older servant stood up and wiped the sweat from his forehead, without a trace of fluctuation in his eyes.

A roll of tattered straw mat wrapped around the pale corpse.

"Well, let's go." Several other people also stopped their work and turned to leave.

The room fell silent again.

All that was left was the shaky table and the remains of the torn dress, as if telling an unknown story to the ruthless night.

In the bar, the dim lights seemed to hide everything in shadows.

The flickering neon lights occasionally shine through the window, adding a weird atmosphere to the quiet space.

Except for the female bartender who was clearing the glasses, the entire bar was empty and seemed particularly lonely.

Prince Feldman pushed the door open anxiously, and the bell on the door rang crisply, breaking the silence.

He came in like a ball of fire, with anger and dissatisfaction written all over his face.

"Damn it, there's no one anywhere!" Feldman cursed fiercely, his eyes swept across the empty bar, and his rage grew even greater.

Those little brothers who usually fawned over him were nowhere to be seen at this moment, as if they had disappeared collectively when he needed them most.

This made Feldman's anger even more difficult to contain.

"Damn you guys!" He angrily kicked a chair away, and the chair slid several steps on the floor, making a harsh sound.

As a prince, he should be in charge of the entire city.

But there is pressure from my mother.

She is the queen.

All documents had to pass through her hands before they could be sent to him for review.

Then why does he, a prince, need to rule the country?

Frustrated, Feldman sat at the bar and knocked on the counter impatiently.

"Give me the strongest drink." Feldman yelled at the bartender, with undisguised irritability in his voice.

The bartender nodded silently and quickly poured him a glass of strong liquor.

Feldman took the glass, tilted his head back and drank it in one gulp. The hot wine rushed down his throat, as if to burn away the anger in his heart.

In the morning, Feldman was just a little late for official business, but he did not expect that his mother would be so cruel as to execute his beloved maid.

Moreover, it was done in a cruel way.

Let the soldiers take turns to capture her.

Tortured to death.

Thinking of this, Feldman's anger became even more difficult to calm down.

"It's so abominable!" Feldman smashed the wine glass hard on the bar, splashing the wine everywhere.

His eyes burned with anger, his fists were clenched, veins bulging.

"Your Highness? Are you okay?" the bartender asked cautiously, trying to ease the atmosphere.

"Good? Good ass!" Feldman sneered, staring at the shattered glass fragments with a knife-like gaze, thinking: "My mother actually executed her in that way. This is a slap in my face. How can I hold my head up in the future?"

Seeing him so decadent, the female bartender silently handed him another glass of liquor, which Feldman took and drank again.

The effect of alcohol made his head feel a little swollen, but the anger in his heart did not diminish in the slightest.

"Your Highness, maybe... maybe you need to talk to someone." The female bartender glanced towards the door and suggested tentatively.

Feldman glanced at him coldly, with a hint of chill in his eyes.

"Chat? With whom? Those little brothers who only know how to flatter me, or that cold-blooded mother?"

The female bartender didn't dare to say anything else and could only stand aside silently.

"Where did all those people die?"

I usually brag about having fun things in front of him.

Aside from robbing decent women, don’t you have any other skills?

In the palace.

He is a respected prince and the future Pope.

I suppress my emotions all day long.

Only at night can he release the depression that has been pent up in his heart for a long time.

As Feldman drank another glass of wine, his eyes became even gloomier.

Just as Feldman's second glass of liquor was about to finish, the door of the bar was pushed open again, and a fresh fragrance followed.

Chapter 367 Assassination Target

Feldman raised his head, his pupils suddenly shrank, and his eyes were staring straight.

What caught his eye was a stunning beauty with an alluring figure.

She was wearing a long white dress, which tightly outlined her slender waist, and the hem of the skirt swayed gently with her steps.

Her long hair fell on her shoulders like a black waterfall, and a few strands of hair playfully fell beside her cheeks, adding a mysterious beauty to her.

Everyone came closer to take a look.

"Saint?"

"Why are you here?"

The corners of her lips slightly raised, revealing a sweet smile.

"Your Highness, long time no see!"

The saint's face was as delicate as a sculpture, with a small nose, plump lips, and eyes shining like stars.

There was a hint of playfulness and wisdom in those eyes, as if they could see through people's hearts.

"I hope Your Highness will forgive me for not doing what Your Highness ordered me to do."

Her every move was filled with endless grace and charm, making it impossible to look away.

She walked slowly to Fellman and sat lightly on the high chair next to him.

"It's okay. No wonder father sent a dozen saints. It turns out he knew you had messed up!"

The target of the assassination was Zhang Chen.

That's a big trouble.

He knew how difficult it was for his father to cultivate a saint girl.

They are all candidates picked from thousands, both in terms of fighting ability and appearance.

These women all have one thing in common.

Must be a clean body.

"Could it be that Zhang Chen doesn't like women?" There was a hint of surprise in Feldman's voice.

The saint in front of him was superior in both appearance and looks.

That guy doesn't even want it, doesn't it mean...

The Saint lowered her head, and with a hint of apology, she replied in a gentle voice: "Your Highness, please forgive me."

If the saint fails to complete her mission, she will be executed by the Vatican.

Her voice was as gentle as the spring breeze, with a hint of begging, which made people feel relaxed and happy.

Thinking about such beauty.

It would be a shame if I were executed by my father.

The anger in Feldman's heart gradually died down at the sound of her voice, and was replaced by an indescribable joy.