Chapter 497

"Can you keep us alive?"

Hearing this, salpurdon guessed that the other party had wavered, so he smiled:

"Depending on the situation, and how many people survive in this world, it can't be called alive."

"You killed a lot of people."

"Life is cruel everywhere. The galaxy has no love for us. I will let some of you live, survive in the ruins and wait for that person's return... If no one survives, no one will talk about what they see. Maybe one in every 1000 people here can live to welcome soshyan's return. It will be interesting and dramatic."

"You have no honor in killing the weak -"

Salpurdon cleared his throat. It sounded like a shifting tank, interrupting the dean's words.

"I'm tired of this conversation. Do as I wish, and you may live the night."

The old man straightened his back.

"No."

"It's a good thing to see a man with backbone. I admire and respect it, but now, at this moment, suspicious courage has no place here. Let me tell you why."

A phantom soldier came up and grabbed the teacher's sparse hair with his hand.

The man's boots left the floor and immediately shouted.

"Please..."

The man stammered, and the soldier drew out his dagger and carved it along the teacher's abdomen in a neat way.

Soon, the blood gushed out like a torrent. The man held the internal organs of his body tightly with his fingers, because it could flow out at any time.

Before long, his plea immediately turned into a worthless scream.

"This --"

Salpurdon pointed.

"It's happening, right on the ruins of what you call the college. That's how we treat your subordinates."

The renegade still grabbed the teacher's greasy hair and shook him in his hand.

More screams, now interrupted by wet, smelly sausage patting on the floor.

"Did you see it?"

Salpurdon's eyes never left the dean.

"I know they all fled to the shelter and were trapped there. Now I'll find you and call them out, or my brothers and I will do this to everyone, just like those who run away like maggots."

He reached for the man caught by the traitor, clamped the twitching, living man's throat, and impolitely threw the bleeding body onto the desk.

"If you obey me, your subordinates will be able to avoid this disaster, and you will become one of them. But if you disobey me, I will not spare them, and even you will die. Moreover, while you are still alive, my pharmacist will skin you. He is a master of prolonging the experience of pain, so the prey must die at least within a few hours after the operation... A former prisoner The prisoner lived six nights, wailed in great pain, and finally died of an infection in a dirty cell. "

The old man swallowed his saliva trembling.

"Your threat means nothing to me."

The next second,

Salpurdon pressed his armored fingers against the dean's face, and the cold fingertips moved along the contours of weathered skin and fragile bones below.

"When the brain feels fear, people will do wonderful things. It becomes the embodiment of pressure in the paradox. Is it fighting or running away? Your breath will become sour due to chemicals in your body. The tightening of muscles will affect the ability of digestion, reaction and concentration. At the same time, the damp rhythm of the heart becomes a war drum, and the beating blood supplies muscle congestion to avoid injury Harm... Your sweat smells very different and more fragrant. It's like an animal trembling in fear and desperately marking its territory for the last time. The corners of your eyes are trembling, responding to hidden signals from your brain, hiding your sight and preventing you from seeing things threatening you. "

Salpurdon grabbed the back of the dean's head. His face was only a few centimeters away from the old man's face.

"I can feel all this on you. I see it in every twitch of your soft skin. I smell a strong smell emanating from you. Don't try to deceive me, human beings. My threat means everything to you."

"What..."

The old Dean had to swallow again.

"What do you want?"

"I've told you what I want and sent all the candidates."

The Dean was silent for a moment, then nodded and said:

"I need to talk to the people below."

"Of course."

Salperdon let him go.

The Dean took a deep breath, went behind his desk, picked up a communicator and entered a string of passwords.

Soon, the other end of the communicator was connected.

"Bring them up."

Only this sentence, and then he turned off the communicator.

While they were waiting, the Dean watched his college die, and the enemy Lord named salpurdon stood on the edge of the observation dome, constantly communicating with his compatriots.

His voice was a deep, wild noise, constantly updating the position of each team and describing their progress.

Every few minutes he would be silent and watch the fire spread.

The teacher was silent, and the Dean had closed his friend's eyes and choked by the smell from the cracked body.

"You'll get used to it."

One of the soldiers smiled and suddenly turned on a portable tactical display.

The Dean looked at the holographic feedback. Despite the visual distortion, he clearly saw death.

The phantom soldiers slaughtered in the middle of the nest. They didn't attack the heavily guarded upper echelon because they didn't have enough troops.

The soldiers in armor tore open the partition of the air raid shelter and tore up the crowded crowd inside. The Dean watched them drag men, women and children's hair into the street, let servants take them away, or nail them to the edge of the building to show that the nearest shelter had been looted.

Piles of corpses piled higher and higher - a monument to fresh blood and flesh, commemorating only pain and torture.

"Why?"

He whispered, unaware that he had spoken.

Salpurdon looked at him and suddenly said with a smile:

"We do this because we like it, we do it because we can. You are his people. Killing you will make him feel pain. That's enough."

Soon, more than 100 men appeared on the college playground, and salpurdon took the dean to the playground.

He looked at the group of boys in college uniforms, mostly 16-18 years old.

"That's it?"

Salperdon frowned, and the Dean just nodded silently.

"Don't play tricks with me. A planet shouldn't have so many candidates."

He went to the middle of the boys, looked left and right, and suddenly grabbed one of them.

The skinny boy suddenly turned white with fear, sweating and trembling all over his body, but there was another thing in his eyes besides fear.

Salpurdon suddenly felt something and slammed the boy to the ground.

"These are not candidates -"

Just then, the Dean suddenly yelled.

"For the emperor!"

The boys responded and tore off their uniforms.

Salpurdon's eyes widened, and each boy was bound with explosives——

The next second, he reached out and wanted to use his powers, but it was too late.

Boom!

With a loud noise, the whole square, together with the dean and salpurdon, was swallowed up by the rising huge fireball.