791: Chapter 433: This lawless person is sowhat silent.
_2 791: Chapter 433: This lawless person is sowhat silent.
_2 A crowd of locals stood below, tiptoeing.
“Sir, want a front-row seat?
Not expensive, 2,000 Pesos.”
A family of three was grumbling in the back about not being able to see when a scalper slipped over, lowered his voice, and gestured with his hand.
“2,000 Pesos?”
The man hesitated; it was a bit pricey, but the temptation to join the spectacle was too strong.
“Forget it.
We can just watch from the back.” The wife pulled him back, shaking her head.
“It’s fine; I work hard to earn money so I can spend it.”
The scalper gave a thumbs-up.
“Right, the man knows what he’s talking about.
What’s the point of working hard if you don’t spend?”
“Three of us for 2,000 Pesos?”
“No problem!”
The man nodded, handed over the money, and the scalper accepted it ecstatically.
“Sir, later, no matter what you hear or see, don’t worry about it.
Just run.”
The family of three exchanged uneasy glances, a creeping sense of foreboding settling over them.
The scalper hunched over and launched a “Wild Bull Charge” straight toward the front, elbowing his way through gaps in the crowd.
His hardened head knocked into quite a few people.
“Hey!
Stop pushing, stop shoving—what the hell!
Damn it, are you here to spy on an affair or is your dad waiting for his trial?
Move forward, already.”
“Get lost, stop squeezing!”
The crowd erupted into curses.
The scalper stood tall, shoved a large opening into the crowd, then forcefully pushed the family of three to the front.
Planting his hands on his hips, he pointed at the onlookers, berating them loudly.
Good lord…
Even scalpers have a tough gig.
Turns out he doubles as the argunt handler?
The face of the family of three imdiately turned red, embarrassed and too ashad to ask for the money back.
The surrounding eyes made them wish they could crawl into a hole.
“Silence!”
Just then, the Senior Police Supervisor on stage, a single Golden Oak Leaf pinned to his shoulder, grabbed the microphone and commanded.
“Now, let the proceedings begin.
Bring out the criminals!”
Over seventy criminals shuffled forward, their heads covered, shackles on their feet, dressed in prisoner uniforms, flanked by police escorts.
The scene was striking—a blunt, visceral spectacle.
Plenty among the crowd seed a little…
frightened.
That’s exactly the purpose of the event: to instill fear.
The handcuff-and-shackle combo weighed over thirty kilograms.
“The second item on the agenda: cris announcent.”
“Remove the hoods!”
The hoods were pulled off the criminals; one by one, faces erged.
So tilted their heads up defiantly, others lowered theirs in sha.
“Nar White!”
The Senior Police Supervisor called out a na.
On the far left of the front row, a Bald man’s eyes flickered, his eyelids twitched slightly.
“Professional hitman for Puebla State’s Ogre drug cartel!”
“In 1987, murdered the entire seven-mber family of the Tivakan city mayor, using extraordinarily brutal thods.”
“In 1988, tortured two tourists from xico, cutting off one woman’s reproductive organ and stashing it in his ho freezer.”
“1988…”
“1999…”
The list for just this one man went on for over ten minutes.
Nar White kept his head high throughout, fearless, exuding arrogance.
When the Senior Police Supervisor finally finished reading, he mocked:
“Wrong!
There are more—another ten people.
I killed a total of 211!”
“You got it wrong!”
The provocative attitude sparked an uproar among the crowd.
The Senior Police Supervisor up top, hearing this, flushed with anger, tore the sentencing report in half, pointed at Nar White, “Hamr punishnt!”
The crowd paused, montarily dumbfounded.
A masked officer, towering at 189 centiters with a body bulging in muscle, appeared, dragging a Stone Hamr along the ground—the gritty scraping sound was audible.
“What are you doing!
I demand a dignified death!” Nar White shouted, his voice booming.
The officer swung the hamr hard against the back of his knee, twisting the leg into a deford angle with the kneecap piercing through the flesh.
“ARGH!!!!”
Nar White let out an agonized scream, collapsing to his knees, hands bracing the ground.
Before he could cry out again, the hamr slamd into his hand.
The spectators erupted with gasps.
Blood and bone fragnts splattered everywhere…
Parents covered their children’s eyes in urgency, yet so kids couldn’t resist prying their parents’ hands apart to steal a peek through the gaps.
The atmosphere grew tense.
What can be said…
He was rciless.
“Kill !
Just kill already!!!” Nar White shouted hoarsely, his eyes bloodshot, perhaps hoping to die a hero?
But would it end here?
Not a chance!
The standard procedure for hamr punishnt: first, break all four limbs, then smash the spinal bones, shatter the ribs, and finally, the coup de grâce aid at the head.
Rarely does anyone survive to the final blow, given the ribs’ piercing of internal organs typically kills them beforehand.
Nar White proved no exception…
BOOM.
His lifeless body collapsed heavily to the ground, dead.
Jagged ribs jutted out from his chest cavity, their sharp edges coated in a tar-like unidentifiable substance.
Finishing halfway is unacceptable.
The last strike!
The officer hefted the Stone Hamr, bringing it down onto Nar White’s head with a forceful sweep, producing a whistling sound.
His head burst like a waterlon, splitting into Five Splits.
The crowd fell silent for a mont.
“Nice job!
Kill these bastards!!
Wooohoo…” A teenage boy riding on his father’s shoulders suddenly erupted in excited cheers, even whistling, only to have his mouth swiftly covered by his parents.
A brief silence followed.
Suddenly, applause rang out!
“Clap, clap, clap…”
“Yes, good job.
That’s how these criminals should be punished.”
The Senior Police Supervisor’s face gradually broke into a smile.
See?
The people supported justice.
Persona?
Dignity?
Do you filthy drug dogs deserve such things?
Clearing his throat, he continued, “Next, Smith…”
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