Natnwe - Secret Symbol Arojam

(1)

Everyone knows why Ye Mo died. Ye Mo sacrificed himself as a public servant, the Newark police chief told close friends.

"Who has ever heard of a police officer being put in the electric chair for killing a criminal? He was just demoted from his position, he was just fired from his job, now what, he's put in the electric chair?"

The police chief told reporters...

"A very unfortunate incident, William was a truly wonderful and excellent employee."

But journalists aren't fools. They know exactly why William had to die.

“This man is crazy. How could he let a crazy person loose on the street? Why did this man use the method of beating? This man beat a person up and left him in an alley. Then he left his badge as a witness. And he said that people set him up, crazy.”

The defense attorney also understands very well why his client lost the case.

"The problem is that stamp. How can he get away with all this evidence? Why doesn't he admit to hitting that girl? If he did, where would the judge sentence him to death?"

However, there is one person who cannot understand this punishment. The punishment is too great. The punishment is too swift. But he does not understand, he cannot understand. It will end at 1135 tonight. After that, nothing will be different. )

Remo Williams sits on a bed in his cell, smoking one cigarette after another. His light brown hair is shaved bald on both sides of his head, where he will be given an electric shock.

His prison uniform, the gray trousers, were torn to the knees. His white socks were spotless except for the spots where they were stained with cigarette ash. He had stopped using his ashtray yesterday.

He threw the cigarette butts on the floor. He sat and watched them burn in a puff of smoke. The cigarette butts eventually left no trace.

Two guards opened the cell door and an inmate cleared the room. At that time, he was waiting between the two guards outside the cell.

When he re-enters the room, there will be no evidence left of him smoking in this room or of cigarette butts burning on the floor.

He couldn't leave any trace of himself in this cell. The bed was steel and unpainted, so he couldn't etch his initials. If he had scratched the mattress, they would have replaced it with a new one.

He doesn't have a single string to tie anything to. He can't even break the electric bulb above his head. The bulb is covered with a thick sheet of glass, and on top of the glass is a layer of steel.

If he wants to break the ashtray, he can break it. Also, if he wants to write something on the new face porcelain bowl, he can write something on it.

But what should he write? Should he write a letter of advice, should he write a memoir? Who should he write to? Why should he write? What could he say to them?

A man does his job. He is punished. In the middle of the street where he is assigned, a criminal is found dead. In his hand is his badge of honor. They do not give him any honors. They all fall into the trap they have set for him. For this, he faces the electric chair.

The society he had worked to bring to death row, where he had tried to bring all the bad guys, thieves, liars, murderers, smugglers, and criminals who were causing trouble to society, has now turned its back on him, the society for whose good he had given his life.

What should I do? Those who break the law will not end up in the electric chair, but those who protect the law will end up in the electric chair.

It's impossible to write about these things in a new porcelain vase. So what will I do? I'll light a cigarette and smoke it. I'll sit and watch the fire burn out.

Remo Williams took the cigarette out of his mouth, held it in front of his eyes, and then threw it on the floor.

There were two packs of cigarettes on the blanket beside him. He took a drag of a fresh one and looked at the two guards who stood behind him. He hadn't spoken to them in two days, since he had been listed as dead.

Ye Mo looked at the newly rolled cigarette. He suddenly disliked the bitter taste and tore off the wrapper and threw it on the floor. Then he put the broken cigarette between his lips and inhaled deeply. The smoke rose towards the ceiling. Suddenly, his face stiffened and he stomped the cigarette with his foot.

Nothing seems to matter.

He slowly leaned towards the cigarette stubs on the floor.

"We'll explain."

A guard said, "His name is Mike, I remember him vaguely." Mike was a tall, handsome man.

"I'll sort it out myself."

Ye Mo spoke. The words coming out of his mouth were slow and heavy. How long had it been since he had spoken?

“Would you like something to eat? It’s already raining, but I’ll get something.”

The guard asked.

Ye Mo shook his head.

“I’ll clean it up now, how much time do I have left?”

"There's still half an hour left."

Ye Mo didn't say anything. He was wiping the ashes on the floor with both of his big hands. It would be more convenient if he had a dustpan.

“What can we do for you?”

Mike asked.

Ye Mo shook his head.

"Nothing, just smoke a cigarette."

"We're not allowed to smoke here."

“Yes, please take one, I have two.” “Thank you, I’m not allowed to take one.”

"Your job is very important."

"It's just a job. Our job is not like patrolling. But it's a job where we have to watch."

"Well... work is work."

Ye Mo said this and smiled.

"Yes"

The guard said. Then there was silence.

Ye Mo thought about saying something, but couldn't think.

“The priest will be here in a moment,” the guard said. Ye Mo frowned.

"I haven't been to church in a long time, since I left the life of a priest. Oh, and I'll tell you. All the bad guys I caught were priests in church when they were young."

"Anyone who has been a student, Protestant or Jewish, will surely know something I don't. Okay, I'll see you when the priest comes."

Ye Mo stretched his legs and walked towards the door. He placed his right hand on the bars.

"Well... it's a pretty uncomfortable job."

The guard nodded. Both guards took a step back.

“Okay, but wait a minute.”

"There's not much time left"

The guard said with a lowered face.

"There's still a little time, just a few minutes."

"Yes, the priest will come here even if we don't go."

“It’s just work, right?”

They will save his soul, as stipulated in the Penal Code.

"I don't know, I've only been here two years. No one has ever sat on a chair in all that time. Wait, I'll go see if the priest is ready."

"Don't look"

"I'll be back, I'll be back to the top"

“Then go ahead, it’s your choice, I apologize,” Ye Mo said, refusing to say anything.