Warlord

Zero was not a saint. Although he possessed power that ordinary people did not, he had also seen a wonderful world that ordinary people did not know about. However, the more he knew, the more confused he felt. His initial confusion stemmed from his strength and evolution. He still remembered the time when Asgard joined the new recruit training camp, when Zero found out that he actually possessed a golden right eye that was known as the “divine object”, he was terrified of power.

Continuously evolving to gain more and stronger abilities and strength. However, what would he obtain at the end of this path? At that time, could he still be considered human? Or to put it more simply, at that time, was zero or was it zero?

That was the first time he had ever been confused about his own path.

And now, it was his second time.

If one were to place their life or death on the lives of the ordinary people of the old era, perhaps no one would be willing to give up such an opportunity to be reborn. However, after experiencing the changes in the new era, this was the first time that he was at a loss for survival.

Was survival truly better than death?

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The living meant that they had to carry more things with them. While alive, Zero did not realize this, perhaps instinctively, or perhaps because he was avoiding certain questions on his own. But this time, when he could choose death, Zero was tired. Live, fight nonstop. With the same kind, with the other races, the path of evolution meant endless slaughter. Even if he could eventually sit on the supreme throne, the journey would be filled with blood and corpses.

The quality of killing was not lacking at all. Zero’s gun never hesitated when needed. However, would such a lifestyle lead to a happy life?