The Legendary Actor - Chapter 27

Following the baby’s cry, Eugene reached the far end of the room and saw the baby lying helplessly on the floor, wailing.

Blood with the traces of war stained the face, the innocent cries were pure, not belonging to this battlefield. The corpses eerily surrounded them, cutting off all signs of life, the rotten smell of death was uninhibited, and the tender and joyful newborn announced the birth of life in the midst of the chaos, like poppies blooming on a decaying corpse, demonic and deadly.

Eugene’s footsteps couldn’t help but slow down, he couldn’t get any closer, no, he couldn’t. He slowly lowered his hands on his rifle and stared at the baby with a hint of confusion in his stillness, stunned and overwhelmed by the baby, the little creature whose face was flushed red from crying too hard.

He just stood there, quietly, his long, narrow eyes undisturbed, even if not having seen a newborn for so long that he had forgotten that such a form of life existed. The smudged face was cold and detached, but still hinted at panic and helplessness, some traces of disgust and repulsion, faintly visible in the gloomy, sparse light.

Merriell also came over, looked at the baby, and froze, his eyes not flinching even a bit. He just stood there, as if Eugene’s feet had drawn an abyssal boundary that could not be crossed.

Following Eugene’s line of sight and looking up, Merriell could see a large hole in the roof, the cold wind pouring in freely, the cry of a baby making the wind sound even more unsettling, “A lot of people have been shooting mortars at this place.” Merrill’s mouth was agape with a mocking smile.

How ironic wasn’t it? In the midst of war, soldiers die in rivers of blood, but what’s worse is that innocent civilians also die in the collateral damage, but no one cares.

“It doesn’t matter.” Eugene said calmly. His expressionless face was contradictorily vivid, as if you could clearly see the process of his life fading away, the pain of the fragmentation flickering in the bottom of his eyes, an indescribable sadness and despair spread between his lips. It turns out that indifference also has colors.

Another soldier came in behind him, looking at Eugene and Merriell who were stunned in place, not without anger, “What the hell are you two doing!” He stepped forward and carefully lifted the baby into his arms.

Without realizing it, Eugene took a step backwards. He actually took a step backwards, and a hint of fear appeared on his indifferent face, as if the vigorous life would swallow up all the courage and determination in him, and then reveal his softness and vulnerability once again.

The baby was carried away, and they didn’t notice anything unusual about Eugene. Merriell confirmed that everyone else was dead, and then turned and followed, leaving Eugene alone, still staring at the baby’s mother – lying on the ground, bare chested and devoid of any warmth, as if one second she was nursing her own child, and the next she was separated from him.

Eugene couldn’t take his eyes off the corpse lying in a pool of blood, and just watched, motionless and silent, as time flowed slowly over his shoulder. Then Eugene turned away, his emotions rippling just a little, only to make him calm again.

He blinked as if nothing had happened. Dead silence.

Eugene left the innermost room and was about to go out when he heard a movement, the hairs on his body stood on their ends, he subconsciously gripped the rifle in his hand, survival instincts kicked in instantly, “Japan …” came from behind the intermittent choking voice.

Eugene lifted his rifle, turned around and approached cautiously, then saw behind the straw curtain an Asian woman, lying on a patch of straw, her mouth wide open as she tried to breathe.

Her eyes lifted up like pools of stagnant water, and when she saw Eugene, her eyes rolled a little, still without any light, but she did her best to say again, “Japan …” and lifted her hands, pointing to the pattern on the back of her hands, as if to say, “The Japanese killed all her family.”

However, she had no strength left, and was tilting her head in a stagnant manner, as if she could clearly see the process of the loss of life from her body, she just stared at Eugene with a hint of longing in her eyes, begging for something. However, Eugene was still indifferent.

Eugene looked up and down coldly and just watched quietly. He neither enjoyed nor grieved at what was happening. There was only calmness about him, as if he was looking at the clouds above the clear sky, calm and peaceful, the eyes without any fluctuation even amid the filth of the blood. A faint sadness and loneliness wafted gently, you could feel as if poor souls were marching towards limbo.

Then Eugene saw the grenade she was holding in her hand, and the gun was raised again. The predator-like vigilance erupted in an instant, and even the tautness of his muscles had become visceral.

Seeing Eugene move like that, the woman nodded her head gently, and a hot tear slipped down, as if … she was begging Eugene to end her life. The woman reached up and lifted her shirt, and her slashed belly was revealed, with bloody intestines and entrails running everywhere.

She was pleading Eugene to end her suffering.

Eugene remained standing, his emotional turmoil slowing his movements as he looked down on the woman, who reached out with her right hand as much she could, trying to grasp the barrel of Eugene’s gun, but he remained passive. Death was too familiar for him, as if it were his partner.

At last, Eugene stepped forward, just two small steps, and then he was standing beside the woman. He preferred to be near a corpse than a baby.

The woman grabbed the barrel of Eugene’s hanging gun and pointed it at her brow, closing her eyes in relief, her intent clear as day. Eugene placed his finger on the trigger, an action he was most accustomed to do recently, an instinct that had become so ingrained he lost count of how many people he had killed, how many of them were Japanese, how many were innocent civilians … and how many were mistaken friendly fire.

With a slight contraction of his fingers, he could have ended this woman’s suffering … with just a little bit of pressure. It had already become a simple gesture in his daily life, not much different from eating and drinking water.

However, he hesitated.

He watched the woman breathe a sigh of relief with abandon, as if all the pain in her body had dissipated like a tidal wave, but in his mind’s eye, the image of the baby crying appeared. His deep eyes rippled with a shallow struggle, but the pain was so great that he closed his eyes in a panic to hide his true feelings, and then dropped his right hand, in the end unable to pull the trigger.

What was he fighting for? What is he holding out for, what is he killing for, and what is he surviving for? Where the hell is God now? Shouldn’t God be the one who saves the world and loves the world? Didn’t God send Jesus to bear the pain and suffering of mankind? Then why is this woman lying here, why is that baby lying here, why are their fragile lives fading away, why are so many innocent people dying? How did God choose, why did those people die, and why is He still alive?

Why? Why, exactly?

The woman realized that the gun was hanging down and reopened her eyes, and then she saw Eugene’s deep eyes. In them, she found a painful struggle. She put down her right hand in disappointment and looked at Eugene desperately. Immediately afterwards, the woman saw Eugene’s cold, iceberg-like face slowly soften, even starting to shine faintly.

Eugene let out a soft breath, bent down and put the gun aside, then took the woman in his arms and slowly, slowly took her head into his chest, the warmth of the breath made the woman have a comfortable expression, as if the pain was instantly relieved a great deal.

Eugene looked down at the bloodstained woman, bitterness dancing gently on the tip of his tongue, he could not help but raise his right hand, with his thumb gently stroked the woman’s jaw, as if he was caring for his lover, focused and serious, the rigid face lines just slowly melted away.

The woman stared at the soldier, the faint light spilling down through the door of the cabin sparsely. The soldier’s eyelashes like butterfly wings hid the real emotions in his eyes. She could only glimpse a corner of it.

His fragile soul was slowly and steadily falling apart, as if witnessing the collapse of the whole world, magnificent and grandiose, watching the good, innocent, simple, friendly, and sincere human being drained of life force little by little, the firmness of faith gradually fading, from the soft gold gradually receding to chromo.

The woman couldn’t help but raise her left hand and pat Eugene’s arm weakly, closing her eyes with difficulty to draw in the faint warmth.

Eugene couldn’t help but close his eyes at the life in his arms, which could crumble at the slightest touch, and hid the glowing water in his eyes from the cruel world. Then Eugene took the woman in his arms, his chin pressed against the woman’s forehead, and gently let out a breath, fearing that he had awakened the sleeping angel.

The women, thus forever asleep; God, forever abandoned them.