Chapter 191 Give Him a Chance
The Apache landed in a lush city park.
The park is a poor man's villa.
In Rome late at night, in places where the neon lights cannot reach, there are always some characters that ordinary people don't want to notice, living secretly.
Beggars, drunkards, hooligans, drug addicts, vagrants and other low-class creatures wander around and rest in the shade of the park's trees in groups of three or two, making this beautiful and natural park during the day extremely scary and dangerous at night.
Apache moved very quickly along the dimly lit tree-lined path.
He couldn't help feeling a little nervous:
As a former policeman who graduated with high marks from the police academy at the age of 18 and had one year of practical work experience, his nervousness certainly did not come from those shunned park homeless people.
Abbazi is worried about Diablo and his subordinates.
Since the enemy had already prepared and set traps with missiles, their offensive would definitely not stop easily.
At this moment, under the dim light, among the dense shade of the trees, the unknown powerful enemy may appear at any time.
Melancholy Blues is the team's trump card in terms of intelligence capabilities, but he is like a water cooler manager in combat.
This means that once he is alone, his situation will become extremely dangerous.
And luckily...
The weather was good and the wind was just right. When the Apache landed over the city park, he was surprised and thankful to notice:
Bucciarati, who had parachuted before him, accidentally landed in the same place as him.
"Bucciarati!"
Abbacchio quickly crossed the park woods in the direction he remembered Bucciarati to take.
He shouted Bucciarati's name loudly while trying to get closer to the other party.
"Apache?"
Bucciarati recognized Abbacchio's voice from the dim shadows of the trees.
"Very good…"
Bucciarati was also grateful that he could reunite with his companions immediately after being separated.
He quickly followed the sound and found Apache, and asked impatiently:
"Apache, are you okay?"
"How about the others? Have you noticed their whereabouts?"
"I'm fine."
Apache didn't waste much time on small talk, but quickly and concisely described the situation:
"The whereabouts of the others are still unknown. It seems that we are the only two who ended up in this park."
"Then let's set off quickly—"
He proposed without delay:
"As you said on the plane, our first priority now is to get to the Colosseum."
"Yeah." Bucciarati nodded.
Although he was very worried about the situation of Narancia and others, now was not the time to look for companions.
At least…
Bucciarati looked at the dense and deep shade of the trees around him, and the lights that became extremely dim under the obstruction of heavy branches and leaves:
At least, they had to leave this place which looked very dangerous as soon as possible.
At this moment, just as Bucciarati was preparing to move as quickly as possible because he was worried about the enemy's sneak attack, a murderous stranger suddenly jumped out from the dark woods:
“Aaaaaah!”
"Go...die, devil!"
Amidst a series of unclear and strange roars, a tall and thin young man suddenly rushed out with a knife in his hand.
His clothes were dirty and messy, his cheeks were pale and bloodless, and his exposed skinny arms were bulging with blue veins, which was particularly terrifying under the dim light.
"Is it the enemy?!"
Bucciarati and Abbacchio reacted at the same time.
Having just experienced a man-made plane crash and now found themselves in this dark woods, they were already feeling a bit nervous and afraid of everything.
Seeing someone suddenly rushing towards them with a knife, they immediately went all out to meet him:
"Steel Chain Fingers!"
The first to act were naturally Bucciarati's steel-chained fingers.
This speed-A humanoid substitute appeared out of thin air in front of the two of them, and in the blink of an eye, under the dim light, it blasted out a blue fist shadow that was difficult to distinguish with the naked eye.
For Bucciarati, this punch was just a test of his enemy.
And that "enemy", that skinny guy holding a switchblade and coming at me with murderous intent...
The punch actually caused his movements to falter and his whole body to tremble violently, as if he would fall apart like an old table and chair in the next second.
But the attacks were not over.
When Bucciarati felt that something was wrong and stopped the chain fingers, Abbacchio leaped forward and pounced on the uninvited guest as if by instinct.
Abbazi is an expert fighter, with close combat abilities greater than most humans, even some of his humanoid doubles (including his own Melancholy Blues).
Before the "enemy" could even react to the pain of the punch, Apache slapped the blade out of his hand with a palm, and then threw him to the ground with an over-the-shoulder throw.
"ah--"
The young man let out a scream.
However, he seemed to feel no pain, and collapsed to the ground, shouting, "Go...die...die...hand over the money...give it to me...give it all to me! I...I want...I want more!"
Apache paused for a moment, then punched the guy in the face.
One punch after another.
The "enemy's" continuous strange roar soon became more unclear due to the blood flowing from its throat.
"etc!"
It seemed that Apache was about to kill the opponent.
Finally, Buccellati could no longer hold back and stopped him:
"Abbazi, we made a mistake. This is not Diablo's man."
"I know."
Apache stopped his fist which was already stained with blood.
The dripping blood shone scarlet in the dim light, and reflected in his deep pupils, it looked particularly cold:
"But he's not a good person either."
"He is skinny, has red eyes, yellow skin, speaks incoherently, is mentally abnormal, and is holding a sharp knife, very aggressive..."
"I dealt with this kind of scum a lot when I was a police officer, and I could smell the stench on him with my nose - it was obvious that he was a hopeless lunatic, a drug addict who made a living by robbing."
"If I don't kill him, he will only harm others if he lives in this world."
Apaki said so coldly.
“…”
Hearing this, Bucciarati remained silent for a moment.
He also saw what kind of person this young man was:
Like those lost young people in Naples whose bodies were hollowed out and their lives ruined by drugs, the guy in front of him had already embarked on an irreversible path.
"Yes..."
"He is completely hopeless."
Bucciarati sighed deeply.
He looked at the young man on the ground, groaning in pain, with a hint of pity in his eyes:
"But...this shouldn't be a reason for us to kill people."
"Should we let him live?"
"Allowing scum like this to live will only hurt others in the end."
Abbaki's tone was still cold.
But his figure was trembling slightly, because he recalled some bad experiences:
Just a few months ago, when he was still a policeman, he neglected his duty and let a criminal go - and when they met again, the criminal shot and killed his most trusted partner.
That incident, as well as the various magical realities he encountered at work, profoundly changed Apache's three views.
He is no longer the policeman who dreams of upholding justice.
He joined the gang not because of any grand ideals, but because he was completely disappointed with society and wanted to abandon himself in the darkness.
But what Abbaccio never expected was that on the first day he officially joined the gang, he was abducted by the gang leader named Bucciarati to become a "messenger of justice."
"I know what you mean."
Bucciarati patted Abbacchio's shoulder gently:
"But killing people won't solve the problem."
"Let's go. We don't have much time - go defeat Diablo, change the Passion Organization, and change this country."
“That’s the real solution to the problem.”
Bucciarati's voice has a power that can touch people's hearts.
Abbaki couldn't help but slowly loosen his fist, and a helpless smile appeared on the corner of his mouth:
"Heh... You don't really look like a mafia guy."
"Same."
Bucciarati said noncommittally: "You don't look like a policeman either."
"Indeed...I haven't been that for a long time."
Apaki sighed softly, and finally let go of the murderous intent that inexplicably surged in his heart.
"So…"
He glanced at the drug addict who staggered to his feet from the ground.
After a series of beatings, the guy, with blood on his face, finally regained consciousness:
“Are we just going to leave it like this?”
"He attacked us with a knife this time, and he might hurt other innocent people next time."
"this…"
"I want to give him a chance."
Bucciarati said with a sigh.
At the same time, the steel chain finger swung out a fist shadow in an instant:
“Ali ali ali ali!”
The drug addict only felt a sudden gust of wind in the air in front of him, and a zipper that he could not even see suddenly appeared on his shoulders.
The next second, both zippers opened at the same time, and both arms broke.
"I broke all his arms that could attack people."
"I hope that after losing his hands forever, he will change in the future..."
Bucciarati said with a complicated tone.
The look he gave the drug addict was full of pity and tenderness.
But the guy looked at his arms that had fallen to the ground, and the empty shoulders below...
His face changed as he regained some consciousness, and he screamed in horror:
"Devil, this is a devil!!"
