A steelmaking factory covering an area of 3,000 square meters.
The thick, foul smoke produced by the coke spewed out from the chimney, and all the equipment was covered with old rust. The scarlet molten iron, as hot as molten molten metal, slowly flowed in the ditch, exuding ten-level burning power.
The intense high temperature caused people here to sweat profusely. The black dust raised by the carbon material penetrated into the inferior work clothes and adhered to the skin, mixing with the sweat. The itching and sluggish suffocation made people feel like falling into a swamp.
The dazzling firelight illuminated the entire steelmaking plant bright red, and the piercing alarm bell rang, signaling the end of the day.
"The news said that you killed old people and children. Is that true?"
A young man put down his coal shovel and spoke rudely to Cohen.
As anti-war sentiment grew in the Liberty League, veterans were not treated like heroes and were dubbed killing machines and rapists.
Cohen ignored it.
"You have to stay on watch all night."
It was a manager who was slightly younger than him. He was transferred from the headquarters to inspect the factory and patted him on the shoulder.
Cohen couldn't refuse.
I thought this time was just a special situation.
However.
After that, it became the norm until there was one night watch for two consecutive days.
"You go back, I'll keep watch for you."
Cohen's comrades seemed to have discovered something, so they reminded him.
He went home.
It was a low-cost house left over from the last century, with its skin peeling off and in disrepair.
When Cohen returned home, he witnessed his wife having an affair with someone transferred from the headquarters.
That scene was too ugly and dirty.
But Cohen did not react much, and did not show extreme anger. It was just the painful memories of the war intertwined with the scene.
He only felt that his blood was rushing like a column, like a fountain spurting out with a crying rhythm. He could clearly hear the blood flowing, but he could not feel where the wound was.
——————
Cohen:part2
——————
One month later.
"Since I got married to you, I have never felt so good about being fucked so hard."
Hospital.
Cohen's ex-wife is a hospital nurse and has signed the divorce agreement.
Custody of the children was assigned to Cohen.
The dark corridor, the incandescent lamps that emit a faint light, and the cold iron beds arranged on both sides of the corridor are as neat as an army, except for the stained blue and white bedding and the things wrapped in it.
Cohen smelled a smell, similar to the musty smell of burning rotten vegetation, and he discovered that these haggard people living in the corridor had a common characteristic.
They all have a pair of rough palms, swollen and worn backs, countless small broken scratches, and black lines covered with years of dirt erosion.
Even though there was no sound, Cohen could still hear the wailing from the crouched and turning body and the distorted face.
The next day.
factory.
He did not give up his job in the steel mill, and he would be able to get his pension in a few years.
Cohen always had a bad premonition. He was afraid that the woman would fight for the custody of the child, and that the lover was afraid that the revelation of the matter would affect the company's status and get rid of him.
His premonition came true.
Cohen's ex-wife and her lover conspired to tamper with the nuts of the hot air stove.
When Cohen went to operate the hot stove, high-temperature gas leaked.
The temperature of thousands of degrees caused his whole body to burn with flames.
He was born.
He fights.
He died.
The wheat field was golden, and a flock of crows screamed and flew across the sky.
——————
"It was his obsession that made him resurrected and became a monster."
The retired sergeant raised his hands together, signaling for Eugene and the two men to arrest him.
"But I didn't expect that he would do this. Those innocent people would also die together. If I could have stopped him at that time..."
He had no idea that the situation would develop to such a serious point.
Colin put out the cigarette butt. He didn't want to hear these bad things at all. If Cohen survived, he must have contracted the abyssal syndrome. Now he just wanted to know Cohen's follow-up actions.
"You are his friend. He should have told you something, such as telling you and your family not to get close to each other."
Even though Colin could only do these things out of control, when he heard Gray say there were large-scale explosions, Colin finally understood what the SCT, the cancer of civilization, she was talking about was all about.
Eugene has sent Cohen's information to the Los Angeles Police Department and asked them to issue a wanted warrant and conduct a city-wide manhunt.
"He did say it." The retired sergeant thought for a while and said, "He said he should not go to the Los Angeles Stock Exchange recently, but that was said a few days ago."
Colin was shocked. The securities trading institution belongs to the Union Savings Bank and is the largest holder of state debt. It obtains power directly from the Union Congress and exercises responsibilities such as formulating monetary policy and supervising financial institutions. If an attack occurs, it will
Let the credibility be greatly reduced.
Directly ban it to curb sct's actions?
How is that possible? As the financial center of Los Angeles, even an hour of shutdown would cause huge losses.
The situation is far more serious than Colin imagined, and he can't delay even a second now. He used to work in the financial industry, and many people who have interacted with him work in the exchange. Although the friendship is not very deep, it cannot be ignored.
Sitting there waiting for death, he had to call Gray for instructions.
However, Gray seemed to be busy with something and couldn't get through.
"Damn."
Colin couldn't care less and left the off-road pickup truck where Eugene was found and sat in the driving position.
Eugene never expected that Colin's behavior was completely different from his previous one. Was he really that decadent uncle? Just rushing to find death?
What she didn't know was that Colin had the ability to go back in time.
——————
Cohen:part3
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Taverns in slums have cracked floors and extremely poor sanitary conditions.
In ancient times, picture tube TVs showed underwear shows, and occasionally there were stuck color patches and noise due to poor contact.
The wooden ceiling fan was crumbling and a customer spat on the floor.
Cheap liquor and smoked meats were the only pastimes of the lower classes.
Cohen's eyes were all attracted to the neighboring tables. They didn't look like gang members, but judging from their aura, they looked like desperadoes.
One of them has green eyes like poisonous snakes and a crazy and confident conversation.
"Ah, I really want to be a model in a lingerie show."
A man took a sip of wine and stared at the TV.
"What a waste. This is a sign of lack of talent. Real men don't say it when they want to be a model in underwear shows. Instead, they directly disguise themselves as financial tycoons."
Di Wei nodded, thinking this was a motto.
"Have you finished the explosives I asked you to get?"
As soon as Di Wei finished speaking, a tall man grabbed him by the collar, and the wine in his hand spilled all over the floor.
"You said you could get explosives?"
Cohen's expression was extremely cold. Even if these people were really ruthless characters, he would not be afraid because he had acquired supernatural special abilities.
Several of Di Yi's men were about to take out their guns and kill Cohen, but Di Yi held up his hand and told them not to move rashly.
"What? Do you want to buy it? Or... grab it directly? I don't recommend either, I will give it to you directly."
Di Wei, who was grabbed by the collar, was not angry at all.
On the other hand, Cohen was stunned. He didn't expect that Di Wei would answer like this, and he let go of his hand.
"Tell me, where are you going to blow up? I like people like you the most, bombers, uh-oh!"
Di Wei let out an exaggerated cheer, took a cigarette from the table and lit it.
Cohen is preparing for revenge. His ex-wife has left North America with their children and her whereabouts are unknown. Now he wants to kill the man who took everything from him and destroy the head office that interpreted the accident as an operational error.
After hearing the location chosen by Cohen, Di Yi scratched his ears with some disdain.
"You want to blow up a manufacturing company? You are very angry, sir."
"Can you tell me why? Why are you having trouble with some white-collar workers?"
Di Wei took a puff of cigarette and stared at Cohen with interest.
"This is none of your business."
Cohen's face was expressionless.
"Really?"
Di Wei laughed twice and added.
"I can probably guess what you're after. It's nothing more than labor disputes."
"But for me, violence cannot solve the problem."
"It depends on this."
Di Wei tapped his temple and continued talking.
"We must find the root of the problem. Blowing up the company will not solve anything. We can only enjoy it for a while. We must know what caused all this and then eradicate the source of the corruption."
"It's currency, yes, it's currency."
"Sometimes I find things that are really scary."
"Just as the strong must dominate the weak, so the wise must control the foolish."
Di Wei pretended to be scared and held his head in his hands as if he was frightened.
"Think about it, your children will apply for majors such as civil engineering and information technology."
"But your boss's kids usually major in business administration, or fucking finance and economics."
Di Wei was trembling all over, but he pretended not to be so, like a zombie twisting his body.
"What are you talking about?"
Cohen didn't want to hear Dickson's nonsense.
"I just want to say that money is the source of all injustice."
"It itself is just a kind of paper, but its symbolic meaning is too strong, causing people to mistake it for some kind of truth."
"In fact, its essence is the value created by people. This is the root of everything. The root is that many people have a lot of currency without creating value."
"Those people stole the value we created, distributed it to the minimum resources, and created consumerism where money comes first and entertainment leads to death, enslaving us from generation to generation."
"Yes, friend, smart people will weave traps for us to jump into the abyss."
"The sons of the poor work as laborers, and their daughters as prostitutes, from generation to generation."
"But let me tell you, now...the fools are going to fight back!"
Dick's hand rested on Cohen's shoulder.
"We must blow up the stock exchange to warn the world."
