Simulation: Great Power Technology
Chapter 326 The Only Life
"Ricksh!"
The first person who walked into the door was a middle-aged man with a face full of flesh. His name was Zhumark, and he was the captain of the so-called "Farmers' United Team". It was under his leadership that Reksh took his life from the innocent the first portion of food that did not belong to him.
Seeing his face, Rakesh's heart skipped a beat, but he remained in a limp posture and replied feebly:
"Jumark..."
Jumark stepped forward, frowned and glanced at the potatoes in Rex's hand, and asked:
"This is your dinner? Where's your food?"
Ricksh shook his head and replied:
"I only have this.... This is the last one. If I can't buy food tomorrow, I can only get out of here and go to Nabella's mother."
"She has returned to Haryana, and I heard that there is still a lot of food available there..."
"Don't lie! I know they're not gone! Where is your food? Why didn't you join us?!"
Jumak interrupted Rakesh sharply, reaching out to pick up his collar and slashing threateningly around his neck with the machete in his hand.
And the blade of this knife is still stained with blood that I don't know who it belongs to.
Rakesh's spirit was extremely nervous, but at this moment, as if possessed by a god, his expression did not change at all.
"I'm really out of food...if I had, I wouldn't have followed you to rob Omar in the first place...he doesn't give a damn...I don't This potato should be eaten...but I can't...Omar..."
Tears welled up in Rakesh's eyes, and those tears were entirely sincere, but in Jumak's eyes, they were nothing but cowardice and hypocrisy.
"Put away your tears! Don't try to deceive me, I already have sufficient evidence to prove your crime, you are hiding food!"
Hidden food?
Hearing this word, Rakesh's heart suddenly filled with an indescribable sense of absurdity.
What do you mean, hidden food?
Those food are all his hard work to cultivate the land in exchange, what belongs to himself, is it also called private storage?
However, now he couldn't refute, he just continued to cry and replied:
"I wish I had some food! If I did, maybe Omar wouldn't have to die...his son...Worsha...he also helped me The wheat has been harvested..."
"Stop talking nonsense!"
Rakesh's performance finally made Zhumark lose his patience. He let go of the hand that was strangling the opponent's neck, and then punched Rakesh in the face. He fell to the ground.
"Search for me! Turn his house upside down! I don't believe he has no food at all!"
"His wheat sold for so much money, but I've never seen him spend any money, there must be something wrong!"
"...my money has been taken by Narbella..."
As he spoke, Ricksh picked up half a potato that had fallen on the ground, wiped off the dirt on it, and carefully stuffed it into his mouth.
Seeing his action, Zhumark's brows furrowed.
He was a little puzzled, obviously he had received news that there was enough food in Rex's house, but from the current situation, it seemed that he was indeed starving.
Sallow complexion, swollen legs, and sunken eye sockets.
And the half of the potato he ate seemed to have been snatched from someone else's house with him a few days ago.
Did Narbella really take all his money?
But why is this?
In his impression, Rakesh is indeed a person who treats his wife very well. In this low-ranking village, the way he gets along with his wife is completely different.
He never even hit his own wife!
In his view, this is almost unimaginable.
So, a man who has never beaten his wife, gives all his money to his wife and asks her to go to another state's biological mother, seems to make sense?
Zhumark looked at Rakesh with suspicious eyes again, trying to find a flaw in the other party's expressions and movements, but unfortunately, he did not find any flaws.
At this time, the team he led had turned Rakesh's house upside down, and they found no evidence of food except for a plate that Rakesh had used before.
Zhumark sighed, walked over to Rakesh and squatted down again, and then asked in a deliberately gentle tone:
"Rakesh, I can give you one last chance now. Answer me, do you still have food?"
"If you tell the truth now, I guarantee the absolute safety of you and your family—even, I won't take all your food."
"I'll leave you enough to live on until the next crop of wheat, how about that?"
Rakesh's eyes didn't fluctuate at all, he looked at Zhumark with indifference and desolation, and didn't speak.
His eyes had fully expressed his answer.
Zhumark pushed him to the ground impatiently, and walked around the yard again, but it was this circle that he seemed to have discovered the problem.
There is a piece of land under my feet that is softer than the surrounding land.
His expression changed slightly, but before he could speak to the people around him, Ricksh had already noticed his movement.
At this moment, time almost stopped.
Everyone's movements became extremely slow, and all the characters, scenes, and objects became blurred in Rakesh's eyes, but one thing jumped into his line of sight with great clarity.
ax.
This is, probably, the time for it to come into play.
Rakesh was breathing heavily, his chest was filled with air, and then when no one could react, he grabbed the axe in his hand, jumped up suddenly, and slashed with one axe!
Zhumark's head was split in half in an instant.
The rest of the people watched this scene in astonishment, blood spilled on the ground, Ricksh looked around, and those people involuntarily backed away.
However, such deterrence only lasted less than half a minute.
The first man in the crowd threw the stone in his hand at Rakesh, then the second, the third...
Rakesh swung out the door, swinging his axe, as the crowd chased after him.
They are just ordinary peasants----they don't know what it means to win the king or lose the bandit, and in such a short period of time, they can't figure out the rule that "the one who kills the big brother can become the new big brother", what they want to do , just to kill the perpetrator in front of him.
Then, they did.
After running less than 300 meters, at a fork in the road, Rakesh finally fell to the ground without physical strength, and then his body was almost cut into pieces by the machetes that came in droves.
Blood stained the ground.
The new leader in the team, who swung the first knife at Rakesh, watched this scene with satisfaction, waved his hand to signal everyone to follow him, raised his foot, and walked to the next farmer.
During the new entry process, a younger brother opened his mouth and asked:
"What about Zhumark's body?"
The leader frowned and replied:
"Set a fire and burn it!"
......
Half an hour later, a roaring flame was lit in the Rakesh's yard.
In August, when the wheat has just been harvested, there will be no shortage of firelighters in any farmer's home.
The fire got bigger and bigger, and even the adobe walls of the house had been baked red and gradually began to collapse.
The fire didn't go out until midnight, and Zhumark's body was almost burned to ashes, but the people who were once led by him didn't want to give him a second look.
----If someone is willing to collect his body, this person may have some unexpected discoveries.
Because, just below his body, in that secret cellar, there was something else.
Bags of potatoes roasted at high temperature, browned flour, white bread that crumbles into powder at the touch, half a leg of lamb that smells of roasted meat, apples shrivelled to the point of losing their shape...
And, the bodies of two women.
Narbella, Ricksh's wife.
Geishma, daughter of Reksh.
On this night, the three of them died together in a very absurd way.
And the things they desperately wanted to protect, whether it was food, or the means of survival, or the future that Geishma had so desperately longed for but out of reach, had all vanished into ashes.
And, no one cares.
When the residual temperature of the flame was completely extinguished, in a corner of the small courtyard that was not affected by the flames, a potato was stubbornly poking out tender shoots from the ground.
In this silent night, it is the only life in this yard.
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