Chapter 1359 After Suffering, the Power of Hatred

After all, Serena still couldn't stop Smith Zhou from doing something to her. This disparity in power is the key factor that determines it all.

No one knew what she would face, just like no one knew that Serena had fallen into Smith Zhou's hands. Whether it was Zhou Yi or the messengers of light under him, they all thought that Serena was still carrying out her mission and was still looking for Rama Mujam in the vast crowd. They were still waiting for the good news from Serena, but what they didn't expect was that instead of Serena, they were waiting for Rama Mujam's own delivery.

After countless tribulations, Rama Mujam, who had already become like a human ghost, finally crossed half of India's land and came to the sanctuary. And he was able to do this step entirely because his body was supported by his will to revenge.

You know what his current body has become. With almost no good skin, every movement he made would feel the pain of being scraped all over his body by a knife. He couldn't breathe normally, couldn't eat normally, because these organs in his body were more or less damaged. Such a person is only suitable for lingering on a hospital bed, not for going so far for revenge and desperate.

But, that's what Rama Mujam did. His desire for revenge is so strong that he has already carried out this trek to death without caring about his own life.

No one knows why he did this, let alone how he did it. Today's India has been reduced to a wasteland, and this land is full of dangers that can kill people. Radiation, those mutated beasts, and rogues that are more terrifying than beasts. These are all existences that can easily take his life. Even if he was lucky enough to avoid all of this safely, the journey of thousands of kilometers was enough to destroy his body and take away his frail life.

This can already be said to be a miracle of life. When Rama Mujam appeared in front of the shelter like this, he was equivalent to using his own life to prove how terrible a person's will can be. to a point. That is a power beyond the limit, something that cannot be explained by so-called science and all routines. Such a person, there is no reason why he can't do what he wants to do, even if he has reached his limit now.

Yes, after thousands of miles, even Rama Mujam's will has reached its limit. If he hadn't been able to see where the shelter was before, he could still hold on to that breath and endure the pain in his body. So now, when he stood in front of the sanctuary and looked up at this sanctuary of the gods, the will in his heart that supported all his actions could not stop weakening.

The goal was right in front of him, and he knew very well that as long as he walked in and called out his name, then he might realize his desire for revenge in his heart. This sober cognition gave him the illusion that he had fulfilled the long-cherished wish in his heart. And it was precisely this illusion that all the pain he had endured before was rushing out from every corner of his body crazily at this time.

This is his body's Jedi counterattack against his will, and it is reality's final attack on his soul. Many people have fallen on this step, just as many of those Antarctic explorers in the past died before the pole. Rama Mujam is no exception at this time.

Having walked thousands of miles without taking a good rest, he really couldn't help but want to take a good rest at this time. His brain and his muscles told him so, and in order to break his will, these warnings from his body directly made him collapse on the ground.

His whole body has been buried in the dirty soil. The stimulation from the dirt and gravel made him feel as if he had fallen into a frying pan, suffering to the extreme. But soon this torment subsided, replaced by the tiredness and sleepiness sprouting from the depths of the brain.

It was as if the pain was not important at this time, as long as he had a good night's sleep, then everything would pass safely. It sounds beautiful, but such an ending is unacceptable to Rama Mujam anyway.

He knew very well what it would mean for him to fall asleep at this time. He knew very well how far he was from the long-cherished wish in his heart. He can't give up at this time. He has endured so much pain before and didn't give up. How can he compromise with reality now.

At this time, the will burst out with strength again, and the soul that had been weakened like a candle in the wind suddenly rose at this time like a bucket of gasoline poured on it. Although this can't change Rama Mujam's body, let him stand up as if nothing happened at this time. But it was enough for him to overcome the desire to sleep, and let him charge towards his goal again.

This charge is only spiritual, not physical. The body that can only waddle and crawl in the mud like maggots can't use the word charge, but all his movements, as well as his crazy spirit, can be called such.

He dug his fingers into the soil, dragging his almost collapsed body forward little by little. The hard earth and rocks had worn away his skin, worn away his flesh and blood, and exposed his white bones, but it didn't make him utter even the slightest moan. Because at this time, pain is no longer important. Even if his body is convulsed by this pain, his will is strong enough to overwhelm all of these, allowing him to keep going forward firmly.

He crawled forward so firmly, marching towards his goal. Blood gushed out from his body, leaving a long trace behind him. When people around him saw this trace, they couldn't help but exclaimed and trembled.

They had noticed early on that strange-looking people like Rama Mujam were around them. When he collapsed to the ground, many people responded with indifference to him. This is not to say that they lack empathy, but that in this wasteland, sympathy and other things that are linked to morality no longer exist. Those who can't even control themselves have the time to control a dying person, at most, it's just to sigh at him in their hearts.

However, Rama Mujam's next reaction was beyond their expectations. They couldn't imagine that such a person who was about to die was the power that burst out from there to make him do such a terrible thing.

Doesn't it hurt to do that? It hurts to think about it. Just the dense white bones on the fingers can make people's teeth sour. It's hard to imagine how intense the pain on that broken body would be. Ordinary people don't dare to imagine this at all, they can only watch such a guy staggering forward in awe. He neither dared to stop nor extended a helping hand.

A person who can be so cruel to himself is definitely not something to provoke. Either he has great ambitions, or he bears some terrible hatred. It would not be a good thing to be contaminated with either of these two, so as long as a smart person would not choose to be contaminated with such a guy.

Are the people here any smart people? Maybe not before, but after experiencing such a disaster, if those who can survive have not learned to be smarter, then they are not qualified to survive. Everyone has become smarter, so naturally, at this time, everyone silently avoided, giving way to such a dangerous and troublesome existence. A passage leading to the door of the sanctuary.

They did it for themselves, but they ended up doing it cheap for Rama Mujam anyway. In normal times, maybe he would say thank you to these people. But now that he is burdened with blood and deep hatred, he is really not in the mood. So he just kept silent, competing with his body, continuing his journey bit by bit.

It's been a long journey, especially for his body. His excessive demands on his body made the aftereffects that erupted at this time to be fatal enough, and the blood has been flowing all over his body, from bright red to dirty blood scabs. It's hard to say how much blood he shed while crawling all the way. And until he finally approached the finish line, his body was kind of hollowed out. Because at that time, there was no more blood flowing under him.

The harsh red almost dried out at the end, which is not a good thing. Does a person who has shed blood still have a chance to live? Everyone knows it. Is such a lunatic going to die here in the end? Some people began to sigh in their hearts, but just as they were sighing, the figure of a messenger of light had descended gracefully in front of them.

This seems to be a hope, and everyone knows it. The Messenger of Light is the messenger of the gods, and they can do such miraculous things as bringing the dead back to life. But whether they will do this, these people are not sure in their hearts. They are also unwilling to encourage these god messengers for a person they don't know, and they don't want to lose their chance because of such a person.

Everyone was silent, and in this silence, Rama Mujam had already struggled to climb up to the Light Emissary, hugged his ankles tightly with his filthy hands, and then forced himself from the Such a voice came out of his own throat.

"Take me in, take me to your master. I have something to tell him, I have something very important to tell him. Let me in, let me in!"

"You can't go in!"

Although he didn't kick him away, the words spoken from the Lightbringer's mouth were more cruel than such actions.

"You dirty soul is not qualified to walk in there. The sins on your body cannot be redeemed. Give up, just die here. Maybe this is the best destination for you!"