"Why, why, why do you all fucking have ten thousand whys?"
Xiao Ming cursed as he tore off a sleeve from his shirt, not asking Fujiwara Rika for help. He bit it with his teeth to tie it above the wound as a tourniquet.
"I had a friend," he said after he was done, exhaling. "A really evil and twisted guy who loved killing people.
Once, he complained to me that the question he'd heard the most in his life was 'why.'
He couldn't stand it, so he declared that he didn't need a reason to kill, but he needed one not to kill.
Since then, he had a rule: as long as the target could give a reason he accepted, they could live.
Oh, sorry! I seem to have gone off on a tangent.
Anyway, I'm going to borrow his words now: 'I'll mess with you if I want, no reason needed!'"
Xie Yan Er was furious, his heart sinking steadily.
It was clear that there was no way to resolve this with so-called reasoning; if they couldn't escape, they were dead-men who died without understanding why.
