Chapter 945 Hard to Distinguish
His body was drenched in blood, tortured beyond recognition, and reeking of a foul stench.
Ava felt a wave of nausea hit her. She covered her mouth and turned away, dry heaving.
"Who is he? Why is he in your basement?" Ava asked.
"He's Christina's boyfriend, Virgil," Vincent replied.
Ava was stunned. "What? Why is Virgil here?"
Vincent explained that gang members had killed Christina, so he took revenge by killing them all.
But he hadn't mentioned anything about Virgil.
Could it be that Vincent had lost his mind after losing Christina?
"Because he was the one who got Christina killed," Vincent clarified.
"What exactly happened?" Ava asked. "You said it was the gang members who hurt your sister. What about this guy?"
"He tipped off the gang members, telling them Christina was my sister, so they kidnapped her." Vincent approached the man. "It was him. He's an accomplice!"
His eyes were filled with hatred, ready to kill him.
But even if he killed Virgil, Vincent wouldn't feel satisfied.
Virgil, tied to the table, couldn't see but could hear Vincent's voice. He was terrified, struggling with all his strength, but he was bound tightly and couldn't move or speak.
He had been trapped in this dark basement for long, enduring endless torture.
Vincent wouldn't let him die, making him live to suffer, enduring ten times, even a hundred times, the pain Christina had.
"So that's how it is." Ava said.
It seemed Christina had fallen in love with the wrong man.
When a woman loved the wrong man, at best, she ended up heartbroken; at worst, she lost her life.
Compared to Virgil, Alexander was much better. At least Alexander wouldn't harm her.
But they were totally different and not suitable to compare.
"Vincent, what are you planning to do? Keep him here and torture him forever?" Ava asked. She didn't know how to judge Virgil now, but she was also a bit scared.
However, she couldn't let Vincent release Virgil; she wasn't that kind-hearted.
She also felt that a good girl had been cruelly killed, and those responsible should pay the price.
Those cruel people, if they continued to live, would harm other girls.
So, even if Vincent killed them, Ava felt they deserved it.
Such people couldn't be brought to justice; they would just exploit legal loopholes to escape again and again, so she understood Vincent.
"For a lifetime," Vincent laughed.
His laughter echoed in the basement.
"He deserves nothing less. The basement already stinks because of him." Vincent pulled a knife from his waist and stabbed Virgil's arm.
Virgil opened his mouth widely, wanting to scream, but he had no tongue, and his throat was damaged, unable to make any sharp sounds, only weak breaths.
Ava immediately looked away.
Vincent pulled out the knife and stabbed Virgil's other arm.
"Both arms need to be treated fairly, right?" Vincent pulled out the knife again, red blood dripping from the blade.
"Ava, what do you think I should do?" Vincent asked her.
Ava frowned, thought for a moment, and said, "I can't decide for you. There's nothing wrong with avenging yourself. If you really want to torture him, can I go upstairs first? I don't want to watch."
The scene was too brutal, and Ava worried she would have nightmares.
Vincent turned to look at her, noticing Ava's pale face.
She was indeed scared.
She was a decent woman, unlike him, who had seen everything. Naturally, she would be afraid.
Ava was a clean flower while his hands were stained with blood.
"You go up. I'll be up in a bit," Vincent said.
Ava nodded, then turned and left the basement.
After she went up, she closed the door and heard noises coming from the basement.
Virgil, being tortured, couldn't make a sound. All the noises were from Vincent, some from the knife stabbing, some from things being overturned.
Ava covered her ears, leaning her back against the wall.
Every day, all kinds of entanglements happened in this world, making it hard to distinguish right from wrong.
Killing wasn't necessarily wrong and saving wasn't necessarily right.
Because if killing eliminated a heinous criminal, it was a service to the public.
But if a heinous criminal was saved, it was a recipe for disaster.
After experiencing a lot, one realized the world was complicated.
After a few minutes, the door opened, and Vincent came out, his knife still stained with blood.
He threw the knife into the nearby trash can.
"I killed him, sent him to repent to Christina," Vincent said.
Ava looked at Vincent sincerely, seeing that he didn't feel any relief after his revenge but hung his head, looking lost and desolate.
Suddenly, Vincent collapsed to the ground.
"Vincent." Ava squatted down to help him up.
But Vincent didn't want to get up; he just lay there, laughing.
"Do you think there's a heaven?" he suddenly asked.
Ava nodded. "Yes, whether it's heaven or not, I believe your sister is now in a place without pain, feeling at peace. And those who hurt her will all suffer."
"What about me? Will I suffer one day too?" He raised his hand, "Even if those people deserved to be killed, I still did wrong."
Ava frowned, raising her hand to gently pat his shoulder. "Vincent, I believe you'll meet your sister one day, but you have to live well first. Although you killed many people, you also saved many because if those people didn't die, they would kill more and do more bad things."
Vincent smiled lightly, "You're really good at comforting. Christina was the same, very good at comforting. She was kind, never hurting anyone, swallowing her grievances. Even if she sometimes threw a little tantrum with me, she would cook for me afterward, coaxing me. She was so kind, she wouldn't even kill an ant. But why? Why did God treat her like that, making her suffer so much and die in despair? Why?"
