Blood, shattered bone.
Teeth, tofu.
These things were like the painter's spilled pigments, impromptu graffiti created by an artist.
They were scattered throughout the elevator, together constructing a beautiful painting called death.
Lex expressionlessly flicked away a piece of flesh that had landed on his black suit.
Despite forcing himself to remain calm, his pale face and the bobbing of his Adam's apple revealed the bald man's current state of mind: he felt disgusted.
Witnessing a living person's head being blown open was no less than a terrifying torture and nightmare for anyone.
"Gino."
Lex spoke with difficulty, glaring at Gino: "Next time you kill someone, don't do it in front of me."
Well, Mr. Lex has a kind heart; he can't stand seeing people die before his eyes.
Gino didn't answer, instead, he stretched out his hands and pressed against the elevator door.
Having jumped down the elevator shaft from the second floor and then brutally entered the elevator car, this delicate elevator obviously couldn't withstand that level of damage and had already entered a state of "strike".
With brute force, he tore open the iron door. The numbers on the electronic display above the elevator stopped at "1". As the sound of steel scraping against steel echoed, the elevator opened, and Gino and Lex walked out.
"Gino."
The expected person appeared on the first floor, a look of embarrassment on his face. He was clearly feeling guilty about the trouble he had caused. But when the boy caught sight of the carnage in the elevator, the smile on his face froze.
A nervous smile still plastered his face, but Clark stood frozen in place, feeling a chill spread through his limbs even in the summer heat. He was stunned by the scene before him.
This was Clark's first time witnessing the gruesome reality of death.
Not long before, after Earl had taken Lex away, his Superhuman Physique had allowed Clark to recover quickly.
At that moment, only one thought filled his mind: Stop Earl!
But when Clark used his X-ray vision to catch up to the elevator, he saw…
…a blood-soaked elevator and a headless corpse.
The horrifying and disgusting image relentlessly assaulted Clark's mind.
The result was vastly different from what he had imagined.
Poor Earl, the black man who used to teach him to sing during his childhood, was now a headless corpse. He could even see the trachea in the bloody neck.
The frozen right arm and the wrecked elevator allowed Clark to easily deduce what had happened.
Gino tore open the elevator, used Freeze Vision to restrain Earl, and then, with a single punch, blew the black man's head apart.
And having too developed a brain wasn't a good thing either. Clark easily constructed the scene in his mind, and then, his brain couldn't accept such a bloody image.
"Ugh!"
His churning stomach made Clark instinctively crawl onto the ground and retch.
Clark couldn't understand. Gino could have used other methods to stop Earl.
But why did the other man have to kill this poor black man?
"Why are you...so calm?"
Clark glared at Gino with the gaze of someone looking at a murderer.
The youth shrugged.
"So, how am I supposed to look contrite?"
"I don't think I did anything wrong."
Gino sneered, flicking the blood off his hands, and accused him without hesitation. "Besides, what right do you have to question me?"
"If I'm not mistaken, that damn black man probably hid at your place last night, right?"
Gino spoke sharply. "And the reason he avoided the company's security check might be because of your help."
"Look at what you've done."
"You brought a mentally unstable madman into a dangerous chemical plant."
Gino took a step forward, one hand behind his back, the other pointing at the corpse in the elevator. "That crazy black man pointed a gun at my brother, just to find the legendary Third Level."
"You're putting everyone in danger, yet you naively believe you're in control."
"But you'll only mess everything up, then live in a state of Hamlet-esque contradiction." "You haven't considered what would happen if your black uncle friend didn't find the answers he was looking for?"
Gino retracted his right hand, extending his index finger and thumb, forming a gun with his hand pointed at his temple.
"Bang!" Gino made the sound of a gunshot.
He coldly addressed Clark, "Then, my brother will die, and it will all be because of your mercy."
"But he didn't fire!" Clark slowly stood up, fighting the urge to vomit as he retorted.
Gino snorted, "That's because I nipped the danger in the bud!"
Clark took a deep breath, slowly clenching his fists, "So, that's your reason for wantonly killing people?"
"His death was your choice, Clark!" Gino stared at Clark, emphasizing each word. "You could have sought my help."
"But you didn't, you preferred to believe Earl."
"In your opinion, this black man was more trustworthy than me."
"So, you treated Earl with your choice, and I treated him with mine."
Gino looked at Clark, his azure eyes sweeping over Clark's face, flushed with anger. "Remember the first time we talked about 'justice'? I said I wouldn't let anyone harm my family or friends."
"He threatened my family, my brothers, so he deserved to die."
"And now." Gino, who was half a head taller than Clark, was no longer lost in memories, and his aura became increasingly sharp. "You're demanding that I not kill, like some kind of moral saint?"
"Even if this person could potentially take the lives of my loved ones, you want me to stand by and do nothing?"
"Clark." Gino's tone grew harsher. "If the person with a gun pointed at them was your parents, would you still be able to speak with such righteous indignation?!"
Gino didn't even need to guess. If Martha were truly threatened at gunpoint, he would do the same thing.
Clark was speechless. He instinctively recalled the scene of Martha being held hostage, and then, Clark felt his cheeks burn, unable to speak.
If his own family were held hostage, in a state of extreme anger, he might make the same choice as Gino.
"So."
Gino sighed, looking at Clark, and said, word by word: "Your double standard is laughable."
As the words fell, the atmosphere between the two gradually became silent.
The original shame turned into indignation.
Lies don't hurt, the truth is a sharp knife.
Gino's words were piercing, and Clark's chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath.
"Yes, Gino!" Clark roared, his anger flaring. "You're always right, you always have a mountain of reasons to justify your correctness."
"But Earl was also my friend, and you killed him!"
Gino chuckled, his expression contemptuous and slightly provocative as he stared at Clark, slowly saying, "That's because he deserved to die."
"Look at what he did!"
"He was armed and entered a fertilizer factory filled with dozens of tons of Ammonium Nitrate. If his gun had gone off, half the town would have been leveled."
"So, I don't think I was wrong to kill him!"
"He holds everyone's lives in his hands."
"If not him, then who?" Gino stared coldly at Clark, "Are you going to die for him?"
Clark was speechless, his hands clenched tightly, the sound of his bones cracking.
The boy's stubborn pride prevented Clark from admitting his mistake.
Gino didn't care about Clark's reaction. He pointed at his own eyes and said, "Look at the bloodshot veins in your eyes. What?"
The boy smiled, raising his fist. "Want to fight me?"
"Trying to make me accept your naive and ridiculous worldview through force?"
------------------------
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