"Ah! Help! Referee, come over here! Where are the sheriffs and security officers?! Murder! Murder!"
"Damn it, didn't they say no attacking each other? Why isn't anyone stopping him!"
"Now is the time to use my weapon..."
Horses bucked and bolted in panic, and people were terrified, either roaring in anger, leading their horses to flee, loudly calling for referees and sheriffs, or even picking up weapons to resist.
Those with faster horses unhesitatingly chose to scatter and flee; they weren't here to die. Even Mandom, who possessed a Stand ability, had no intention of resisting... The riders in the middle, some continued to desperately urge their horses forward. It wasn't that they didn't want to avoid the killer; it was mainly that the 'living daddy' had already charged over, and they didn't have time to escape. Running forward might prolong their lives.
The other part ran in other directions, hoping that the 'old monster' wouldn't come after them.
Those who picked up weapons had their heads instantly blown apart. The sheriffs originally wanted to step forward, but seeing his speed, which they couldn't even clearly see the shadow of, they could only say one thing: they were truly powerless... Steel, who was still watching the contestants, also fell silent. Theoretically, mutual attacks and killing were not allowed in the race; after all, this was just a sporting event, not a killing competition... He should send people to stop him, but he didn't know why he felt like he didn't have the ability to stop him... What exactly was this thing? Was this speed and strength truly human?
Why would such a thing participate in the race?
Hashimoto Yoma's running posture was devoid of elegance, full of a pure sense of power. Each step sank deep into the ground, bringing an even stronger counter-thrust. From time to time, he would casually step on and kill a few contestants blocking his path.
His goal seemed not to be the finish line, but the figure ahead who was also running on two feet... Sand Man.
Sand Man also sensed the abnormal aura closing in behind him. He glanced back, and his eyes, which had originally only seen prize money and the future of his tribe, were instantly shocked by the large patches of blood and the cruel smile... Yoma had utterly terrified him.
Yoma caught up to Sand Man right after starting, running neck and neck with him. He even had the leisure to turn around and run backward, maintaining the same speed. Along the way, he didn't bother to dodge any obstacles, simply smashing through all of them.
He turned his head and showed his gleaming white teeth to Sand Man, his smile pure and dangerous. His eyes were fixed on Sand Man's muscles, seeming somewhat satisfied.
"Hey! Runner guy, you're a Native American, right? Not bad, I didn't expect a species that was already extinct in our era to be so strong. You're pretty good, much stronger than those wastes riding livestock!"
Sand Man's expression changed; he felt a bit confused. What did he mean, 'already extinct in their era'?
"What are you talking about? When did we go extinct? I'm going to win this race and use the prize money to buy back our tribe's land..."
But Yoma was like a shadow, completely ignoring what he said, and continued to shout, "Oh, you probably don't know what I'm talking about. And yes, I didn't expect to be here at first.
This place of yours is the past. I am a person from the future. You Native Americans will be extinct before long. After a while, there will be something called the Westward Expansion, or some other movement, that will directly kill all of you."
"?!"
"But let's not talk about that for now, that's not important. What's important is, are you also here for 'muscles'? I heard that the remains of someone called 'Jesus' can make muscles even better! Hahaha! For this, it's worth it even if you run until your legs break!"
But looking at his wild smile, Sand Man's face indeed twisted. Although he had been diligently dodging various obstacles and exerting all his effort to control his body while running, he still clearly heard what that strange person had just said.
"Wait, that's important! Say again what happened?! You naked guy!"
Sand Man's heart rate suddenly accelerated, not from the exertion of running, but from Yoma's understated yet thunderous words: "extinction," "Westward Expansion," "kill all of them"... These words pierced his ears like venomous thorns. The current plight of his tribe, the expansion of the white people, and the squeeze on their living space, now cruelly coincided with the madman's words. Yet, despite his pupils violently shaking, he was unwilling to believe this fact.
"You... you're talking nonsense! The white people only care about money! As long as we have money, our tribe won't go extinct, and we will have our own land! We will have our own lives!"
Sand Man's voice trembled with anger and a hint of imperceptible fear. He even temporarily forgot the constant screams behind him and Yoma's inhuman speed, but his steps were already somewhat erratic, and fear rose in his heart.
"We... we will defend our land! The prize money from this race is our hope!"
"Hope?"
Yoma scoffed, still running backward with ease. They had unknowingly charged up a small hill made of rocks and were now jumping down. But even jumping backward, Yoma's movements were very relaxed.
He even had time to casually slap the head of a frightened horse that had crashed into him. This rider was somewhat unlucky; after realizing something was wrong, he had actually already urged his horse to run.
He even considered giving up his race to save his life, but he didn't expect that when faced with a small hill, he made a wide turn to escape, only for these two 'living daddies' to simply run over the hill.
Then they jumped down from above, landing right next to him. His tall horse couldn't even whinny; its head exploded like a watermelon, and the rider on its back was flung away, his fate unknown.
"Hahaha! There's no hope in the future! Only muscle is eternal! See, just like this, as long as I have strength, I can kill whoever I want!"
He suddenly turned sideways, casually picked up a larger rock, and at the same time kicked another rider, who was desperately trying to whip him, in the chest.
The rider's chest instantly caved in, and he flew more than ten meters like a broken sack, crashing into a rock and falling silent. Then, under the pressure of the rock Yoma threw, he became a pile of minced meat.
"Do you see? Power! This is everything! Muscle is the truth, and so-called wealth is worthless in the face of muscle. Muscle can bring you life."
Yoma turned back, his scarlet tongue licking the blood foam that had splattered on the corner of his mouth. His eyes stared fanatically at Sand Man, and he even grabbed a handful of sand and put it in his mouth, not knowing what he intended to do.
"Your land, your prize money, in the face of absolute power, are nothing. Do you really think they only care about money? What they want is worth more than money, it's your lives! Your lives are also valuable to them.
In the future, white people with guns, for the sake of so-called purity, for the peace of their race, will 'bang'! 'bang'! eliminate all of you, just like I'm stepping on these ants now! Hahaha!"
As he spoke, the riders in the middle had already rounded the hill. They intended to stop there and avoid the 'living daddy' who was killing at will, but they just happened to run into Hashimoto Yoma there. He charged past them in one step, getting close to them, and spat out a mouthful of sand.
A dozen riders were hit as if by a shotgun, instantly turning into a bunch of beehives. The remaining riders all immediately turned and ran back towards the starting line. Sand Man also stopped, watching Yoma's rampant slaughter, his expression gradually twisting, not knowing what he was thinking.
His breathing was heavy, and he no longer tried to refute with words, because Yoma's actions were more convincing than any speech.
What this madman displayed was a pure, destructive power, yet he could kill people at will... Perhaps this was correct?
Could it be that his own people were right, that the white people were going to exterminate them, and that his attempt to save his race with money was foolish?
No... that's impossible...