Heaven And Earth Are Worthless Chapter 1

Sasimu City

This place can't be found on any world map.

It is small and pitiful, nominally a city, but in fact has only thirteen streets. It doesn't belong to any country, nor borders any country. It's left behind and independent, a completely forgotten corner. In the underworld, however, its name is like that of a Holy Land, and even mentioning its name is a taboo.

Legend has it that in any famous war in the world, several terrible fighters from Sasimu City can be found. It provides soil for the growth of all kinds of evil flowers, and it is rumored that people born here even have black blood.

Here, skin color, s.e.x, age have lost their meaning. All unimaginable crimes are committed in this place as there is unfettered freedom. Inclusive of all those who can't live in the outside world, it is the real “City of Evil.”

However, people living here call it by another name—Heaven.

A Street.

“Welcome to heaven.”

A dark-skinned man opened his arms and laughed brightly at the s.h.i.+vering poor people on the ground. "Only good stuff has come this time."

There were a dozen people on the ground, some well-dressed, some in rags. Some had blond hair and blue eyes, some had black hair and black eyes. There were men and women; old people and children. There seemed to be nothing in common among them.

“You send me back, my family has money, I…,” the well-dressed man pleaded in fluent English, “I didn't intentionally come here, I was clearly on a cruise s.h.i.+p…”

Before he had finished, he was slapped to the ground with blood spilling from his mouth.

“Tsk, I'm sorry, what I hate the most is white skin.” The dark-skinned man rubbed his hands. “You're a good product. Many people here like your blond hair and blue eyes.”

“Wawawa” A baby's wails were heard.

A woman on the ground hugged the child in her hands and hurriedly apologized in j.a.panese, “Sorry, he won't cry anymore.”

The dark-skinned man saw the woman and the baby, and his eyes lit up. He walked up to the woman in two or three steps. He reached out his hand to grip her chest and kneaded it. “An asian woman, it's great. Mmh, it feels good too.”

The poor woman didn't dare resist.

“You're lucky.” The man showed his yellowing teeth and smoothly switched to j.a.panese. “Your child here is worth a lot. Once the baby's organs are matched and sold successfully, you can live here happily for several years. Many wealthy children always have problems and need fresh organs for replacement.

"No, no—" The j.a.panese woman held her child tightly, "Help—"

"You should thank G.o.d that you're a woman. Here, as long as you aren't too unlucky, you can always marry into a family." The man touched her chest again. “I'll find a good buyer for you.”

Quickly, many people gathered here.

Because everyone knew that the sale was about to start.

“Come on, negro. I need a new a.s.sistant.”

“I want that baby!”

“I like blond hair. I got some good cigarettes recently. Can I exchange them?”

Bang.

A gun went off.

The man who shouted that he had cigarettes had a big hole in his forehead and fell to the ground. The bullet wound was so big that it almost blew half of his brain. Red, yellow and white were mixed together, and some even splashed on the people nearby.

The shooter went up and touched the dead man's pants skillfully, pulling out several packs of cigarettes of unknown variety.

“When I happened to want to smoke, someone knocked on the door.” The gunman ripped open a pack, lit one and took a drag. “Bah, what is it? Waste of my bullets! “

"You shot and it splashed on me!"

"Those are the only clothes I (lit. laozi, an arrogant way of saying "I") own!"

“Why would anyone be so stupid as to say they have a cigarette? I was just about to do it. “

“These cigarettes should be compensated.” The man's face was full of impatience. “I don't believe I can't find a good cigarette today!”

The cigarettes were thrown on the ground.

The man walked alway with his gun on his shoulders while swearing.

The onlookers rushed up and picked up the cigarettes. Several others dragged the man's body away. This man's flesh can be sold to those who like to eat human flesh, and organs can be used as a source of wealth.

Soon, the dead man was carved up, and almost nothing was left except for a pool of blood on the ground, and people began to urge the black man to cite his price again.

If they can, some people will even go straight up and steal, but the black man is strong and is a famous killer here, so they will behave themselves.

The trafficked goods saw this scene and were so shocked they said nothing.

“Can't I find cigarettes today?” The gunman walked with the gun and talked to himself. People in the street were not surprised to see it. They didn't give him an extra glance.

“Hmm?” The man suddenly smelled the tempting scent of cigarettes.

His nose could smell even the cigarettes a woman hides in her underwear. This is definitely the smoke he has been looking for several days, which can make him happy for several days!

The man followed the smell and found a man leaning against the wall and looking at the sky.

He whistled at his good fortune.

Yellow race.

Still, he particularly likes the yellow man.

Yellow people are always older than they look, slender, with no body hair and fine skin. They are always much better in bed than white and black people.

From his point of view, this yellow man is the best.

There was no scar on his face, he did not look dry, his lips were full, and he should have no disease or drug addiction.

No matter what kind of beauty, once they use drugs, they will become ugly, and the body will emit a strange smell.

But the man had only the faint smell of cigarettes and looked young. Especially his eyes, clear as the best wine, with a touch of red, and if sold to human body collectors, will certainly get a lot of money.

Eighteen years old?

Or 20?

Oh, the age of the yellow race is a mystery.

But the man hesitated for a moment and did not rush forward.

There are thirteen streets, all of which are replaced by English letters. A Street is also the relatively best place because those fresh foreign goods always appear on A Street for the first time, as it's nearest to the sea. If you live in Heaven (remember, inhabitants of Sasimu city call the city heaven), you can hardly see anything new.

s.e.x/love, strength/rape are common here, as long as they are not afraid to die in the street, and n.o.body cares. But there are a lot of grumpy people here, and doing things in the street can easily cause other people's dissatisfaction and cause trouble, so few people do it except those who have exhibitionist habits.

The yellow man was so wonderful that he shouldn't be the only one who found him, but no one went up to get him. In this case, either the man had a strong patron, or the man himself was strong.

But the smell of the cigarette was so tempting that the man who had not smoked such a good cigarette for a long time, became extremely confident about the gun in his hand.

First shoot him in the leg, and then carry him back. He can always play for a few days, then, after he dies, he can run to C Street. Even if the man has a strong protector, he wouldn't find him.

The man with the gun had a plan in mind. He felt a m.u.f.fler in his trousers pocket. He mounted the instrument on the gun barrel, then he pulled the trigger and hit the yellow man directly in the thigh.

Bang.

The bullet missed. 

“How…” The gunman was stunned for a moment, not understanding why his perfectly okay shot missed.

A terrible pain came.

He lowered his head and saw a sharp knife in his chest, which was blunt and even stained with rust.

The tip of the knife wriggled in his sight, and the wound on his chest turned into a big hole in an instant. 

“Wow.”

He spit out a big mouthful of blood, his eyes were still doubtful, and fell to the ground in amazement.

The yellow man stretched out one hand, put out the smoke from his mouth, and put the remaining half into his pocket. He stretched out one hand, and dragged the man's foot into the street.

Bang.

The door was kicked open.

This is a small bar that can't be smaller. The tables are almost legless. If you look closely, you will find that there are almost suspicious dark red spots on the tables here.

“What nice goods have you brought, Wu Yun (lit. dark clouds)?” The bartender skillfully mixed water into the bottle and asked without looking up. 

There will only be one person who will “deliver” at this time. 

“Gun, man.” The man named Wu Yun, with an indifferent face, put down the body he was dragging in his hand, and even threw the man's gun to the ground.

“Well, this gun is remodeled, but the lethality is still big. That being, the recoil is a little strong, not very good to sell.” The bartender came over from the bar, pulled the gun apart and looked at the body on the ground harshly. “This man has been a smoker for many years. I'm afraid his organs are damaged and he can't sell very well.”

There was no movement on the Wu Yun's face, nor anything in his eyes. “His hair is very good.”

“That's true.” The bartender touched the dead man's hair. “It's long and dense, but it can sell for a good price. So you take the box of chocolates on the third cabinet, and I'll take both of them.”

As soon as Wu Yun's eyes lit up, the whole person looked in high spirits. “Deal!”

The bartender saw Wu Yun open a piece of chocolate and put it in his mouth as fast as he could. A touching smile appeared on his face. He leaned against the bar and folded the chocolate paper neatly with his fingers covered in tiny scars.

From this point of view, Wu Yun is even prettier than the most expensive girl on A Street. 

If you just look at his face, it is hard to imagine that such a person can live to this day in this Heaven. 

But it's just an illusion.

Dark clouds, as is their name, will only block the sun, will bring pouring rain, will be intimidating, so that people close to can no longer like it. 

“Wu Yun,” the bartender shouted and said again in a familiar tone, “as long as you come and sit with me at night, you will have countless clients coming to your door.”

Those lascivious men (lit. 狂蜂浪蝶 (kuáng fēng làng dié) a chinese idiom for a lascivious man) will continue to help Wu Yun buy chocolate supplies.

Here, the least valuable are humans, but the most valuable are humans.

“No.” Wu Yun put away the chocolate. “I'm going back to read.”

“You've been reading that book for three years, haven't you finished yet?”

“I don't understand. I'll read it again.” 

Wu Yun soon left with the chocolate. 

“Brother, he's gone.” Another bartender came out carefully from behind, and at this time of day he deliberately hid in order to avoid Wu Yun.

“Gone.” The bartender responded lazily, “You go on mixing those drinks with water. Really, it's been a year. Why are you still afraid of him?

The reprimanded bartender dared not answer back.

How can you not be afraid?

A year ago, he skinned a man alive in front of all the guests while eating chocolate. 

The worst part was that the skinned man, who was b.l.o.o.d.y all over, was not dead. 

For the past year, the picture had become a nightmare for the bartender, and he could not help shaking at the sight of Wu Yun.

“This is such a paradise,” the bartender laughed, “you should laugh like the guests here.” 

When Wu Yun came home with chocolate, he remembered that he had forgotten to take the rusty dagger off the dead man. 

“I forgot.” 

Wu Yun blinked and quickly left the matter behind. Anyway, the dagger was picked up.

His room was small enough to hold only a bed and a table, but Wu Yun had lived here for many years and had no idea of changing. 

Wu Yun reached out to take the book at the head of the bed and instantly realized that the position of the book seemed to have changed. 

Someone came in?

There was a piece of paper attached to the book. 

“Help me kill a few people. Here's the list and address.” 

The signature on the paper was a familiar sign to Wu Yun.

Wu Yun was silent for a moment, glanced at the list on the paper, wrote it all down, and then shredded it and burned it clean. 

Three years is fast. 

He's back, but I haven't read the book yet.

Wu Yun leaned against the bed and continued to read the book which had been torn up by him and burned by the light.

The cover of the book was in English letters with gold stamping.

LOVE.

The author has something to say:

Open pits with reason, renew with reason. (Not sure… 随缘开坑，随缘更新)

Three views are wrong, dark system, should be HE