As he was thinking this, a itch of chill crawled up his brow, followed by the illusion of faint lightning, Roland immediately crouched down, and then the tearing air brushed over his head. The bullet that was predicted to bounce off the ground and strike his jaw changed its trajectory midway, aiming for a frontal attack instead. It was nearly inconceivable, how on earth did he do it?
"The reason this world is such a mess is because there are too many idealists like you, don't you understand!!"
Kaspar roared as he pulled the trigger, his angry voice tinged with a trace of sorrow.
"Irresponsibly spreading so-called ideals, irresponsibly inciting others, when you are both weak and incomplete!!"
Kaspar's bellow tore at Roland's chest; maybe he was right, perhaps his experiences granted him a more realistic perspective of the world, or maybe he was unconsciously projecting himself when he said those words.
