Enforcer Manual
Chapter 323: Caveman Joke_1

Chapter 323: Chapter 323: Caveman Joke_1

In the Fourth Neutral Country, there was one topic that was absolutely forbidden.

Because of this topic, every month a number of people would mysteriously disappear, their names added to the list of the missing.

And yet, some never learned their lesson.

The reason the Old Quarter was known as the "Garbage Disposal Plant" was primarily that from time to time, they needed to dispose of some fools sent by the information department.

Igor’s family was a classic example, just another unfortunate soul sent here because of Caveman jokes, after the propaganda and discussions about living on the surface had been banned. Some, who believed themselves to be humorous and satirical, created jokes about the Cavemen, pretending to be Cavemen themselves, and heavily satirized the policy that forbade discussions on living above ground.

And what was the result?

These satirists eventually did become the very Cavemen they concocted, with many having their bodies cut down by the information department’s people until they were even shorter than the Cavemen.

Nikola hadn’t expected that after several cleansing operations, there would still be people caught for spreading Caveman jokes. He regretted the stupidity of this family, as one of his jobs was to dispose of the people on the list for the information department.

He thought that Igor’s family must be foolish to the bone.

Because when they were sent to the "execution ground," they still told him several Caveman jokes in a row, seemingly trying to awaken his memories of the past.

But for a professional garbage disposer, the most basic professional quality is not to have unnecessary curiosity.

And today, something else was troubling Nikola’s mind.

The information department believed he had not fulfilled his duty properly this time, dealing with the people on the list, because witnesses claimed to have seen Igor’s family hopping around alive and well. They had gone to the market early in the morning and bought some synthetic ingredients to take back.

But how could that be possible?

Nikola was certain that the bullets had punctured the skulls of the family of three, blood and brains had spilled everywhere, clearly dead in the most definitive sense. Perhaps a fleeting sense of guilt had crossed his mind, but it wouldn’t cause him to stay his hand. The only thing he could do for them was to give them a quick end.

Nikola filled the bathtub in his bathroom with cold water and added a large bag of ice. This was his way of calming himself down.

Soaking his body in the icy water, the bone-chilling cold sharpened his thoughts considerably.

He didn’t know how Igor’s family had managed to come back from the dead, he was no scientist and had no interest in getting to the bottom of it. He just knew that the information department was not pleased with the fact that they were still alive, and what he had to do next was very simple.

Grab the tool and the bullets, complete one more job, and then treat everything that had happened as a nightmare.

...

When Nikola once again burst into Igor’s family home wearing a black hood, the scene inside felt hauntingly familiar.

The room was filled with the aroma of borscht, and this family’s optimism was unfathomable. Even after being driven from the civilian area to the Old Quarter, their lives remained orderly and their happiness did not fit with the rest of the gloomy Old Quarter.

Nikola stood still at the doorway for a moment, carefully observing every member of Igor’s family, and with difficulty confirmed that there were no scars left on their heads from bullets.

They told many Caveman jokes on the way, jokes Nikola had never heard before.

Unlike the last time, Nikola took extra shots this time.

He took many extra shots, until all the bullets he brought were spent. If a colleague saw him, they’d ridicule him for being such a rookie, wasting so much ammo on dead bodies—bullets were valuable currency in the Old Quarter, and only rookies who were new to guns would waste bullets like that.

But he was scared.

Not only because the scene unnerved him with a sense of déjà vu, but also because the person in front of him finally looked into his eyes and said, "You can kill me, but you can’t kill an idea."

In reality, Nikola had never thought of killing an idea; he was merely someone who did a job for money. His duty was to kill the people, and with that done, his job was declared complete.

As an experienced Assassin, he couldn’t remember how long it had been since his hand last trembled while shooting.

But this time, his hands shook violently, and there was no improvement even after he returned home.

Nikola filled the bathtub with ice water again, lit a cigarette, and submerged his body into it. The images of what had just happened kept flashing back in his mind, forcing him to endure the baptism of guilt once more.

Then, a phone call interrupted his self-reflection.

"Nikola, have you fucking lost your mind?"

A woman’s voice came from the other end of the line.

Clearly, she was furious, her tone extremely harsh, "Where are you now?"

"Just got home, what’s happened?"

"I’m asking you, why is Igor’s family still alive? I just saw them swaggering through the downtown area, and they fucking told a Caveman joke in front of a bunch of people. The intelligence department must be exploding with anger; do you think they can swallow this?"

The woman on the other end of the call was practically roaring until she vented her emotions; then she lowered her voice slightly and said, "Yes, I know there was a child on that list. I don’t know if your conscience suddenly kicked in or what, but even if you left survivors, couldn’t you make them disappear for a while?"

After that accusation, both ends of the phone fell into a deathly silence.

"...Nikola?"

"Do they have bullet holes on their bodies?"

Nikola asked in a low voice. This time, neither the ice water nor the cigarette could suppress his emotions because he had already opened the photo gallery on his phone.

To ensure this wasn’t a nightmare or a figment of his imagination, he broke his long-standing principle and left evidence behind when he left the scene. Right now, in his phone gallery, Igor’s family was lying quietly on the ground, lined up in order.

The floor was wet with blood, and through the bullet holes in their bodies, one could see the scene on the other side straight through.

"No, why do you ask all of a sudden?"

"What if I told you, I’ve already killed them, would you believe me?"

"You’ve killed them? But... how is that possible?"

"And I’ve done it twice."

This call made one thing clear to Nikola: He hadn’t missed the last time, and it wasn’t a dream or an illusion. That night, he had indeed blown that family’s heads off with bullets.

"To hell with the intelligence department. If they can do it, then let them do it themselves."

There was definitely something wrong with that family.

Nikola had no interest in putting on a hood again and breaking into that family’s house because he suddenly felt that Igor’s family was more terrifying than the intelligence department.

They always wore optimistic smiles on their faces, climbing back from the grave again and again.

Perhaps...

That family had been dead a long time ago.

The one who had been talking to him was some other creature with the same appearance as theirs.

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