After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World - Chapter 1344

Chapter 1344: Fargo’s End (Part 1)
They watched Fargo writhe in pain but also get more and more conscious of his surroundings. His jaw was clenched so tightly to prevent himself from screaming, and he shakily turned his head to glare at them with reddening eyes.

Garan met his eyes with his cold ones. “It’s time,” he said, before turning away to head to the venue.

Today was the day of Fargo’s public execution, so he had to be pulled from the Prison, to the chagrin of most people, because he was really disgusting and no one wanted to touch him.

For their own stomachs, the water users took some water to give him a preliminary wash, though what they used was leftover dish water, because they were stingy like that.

Fargo’s execution had been announced the previous day and a lot of people—especially his former citizens—came by to see it happen with various emotions.

They tied him up and practically dragged him to the venue. There was a crowd that parted way for them, each one glaring at the man they were pulling across the hard, paved ground.

Some people spat at him but not that many, knowing it was their own guards who’d have to touch it later if they overdid it.

“Move,” Eagle ordered Fargo, and considering he lacked limbs, it was extremely painful to try moving. This time, Eagle didn’t bother dragging him, he dragged himself to his own death.

After the war, Fargo had become a System Slave—the existence he looked down on so much. So, he followed the order despite feeling like his body was being burned and stabbed from the inside out.

Even a single movement of muscle sent a shock of pain in his body, but his body still moved, making everything all the more agonizing. It felt like every fiber of his being was being torn, each nerve burning, and yet his body still held on, as if to make sure he felt every bit of the torture.

He felt firsthand how a slave’s body was pushed beyond their limits, then.

After a couple of minutes of the painful procession, they soon reached the square, with the gallows visible even before they completely reached it.

The Elders did not want to use the morbid punishments done in Fargo, which was extremely bloody, with the people swiping or stabbing at the evil men who victimized them.

Symbolically, the evil men’s blood flowed down its streets and pavements to cover the blood of those they victimized. Psychologically, they allowed the victims to vent as they wanted, even if most got a bit visceral. Overall, it felt like a fitting type of execution.

Alterra, in contrast, had always been ‘clean’. They did not want to taint it with anyone’s blood, especially one this dirty.

In the end, the elders decided to just give him death by hanging. They would not cover his face, so the victims and their families would see, at least, how the life was drained out of the man who took so many.

There were not many speeches as he was set up on the gallows. He was the only one executed like this. The other people who had to get killed were just killed unceremoniously.

“You should be honored,” Eagle said as he dragged the man up and wrapped the rope around his neck. He hadn’t had much of a beef against Fargo before. He just wanted him out for the sake of the greater good.

Now, it was personal. He almost killed his friend after torturing him so badly.

Fargo’s breath stagnated as he was lifted up. He shook as the jolt of fresh pain pounded on him. He didn’t just have internal injuries, his ribs was probably broken and poking at his internal organs.

The rope was hung ominously above him, and then wrapped around his neck and tightened, and he knew that his time had come.

Fargo looked at the large crowd looking up at him, many were smiling, and some were sobbing in relief. Others were looking at him as if he were a cockroach that they were finally getting rid of.

His body boiled in anger and indignation. Fargo didn’t want to go down like this!

Rather, even if he did—he would not accept being looked down on!

At the very least, he could cause more pain before he fell—taking down other people as he did so.

Sadly, he could not move. As a slave, he might even hang himself up if he was ordered, so he could only use his words.

“You think you will get rid of me like this?!”

He looked at the women in front, recognizing many of them. There was Rebi, his son, and that psychologist.1

There were even his former women, Betty, Umi, and many others. 1He wanted to sneer at the fact that they built a life for themselves here despite their history.

In any case, Fargo could tell that death was approaching, but he was not about to allow these people to be relieved!

“Even if my physical form is gone. I will continue haunting your dreams,” he said, laughing. He looked like a maniac with his toothless grin filled with his own blood.

He looked at the women, “You must remember what my men did to you? Remember how helpless you were, how you could only succumb? Don’t pretend to be victims!

“You liked it, didn’t you!? HAHAHHAHA—”

The rope was raised and his body was as well.

He struggled to breathe, his face completely red and manic. However, for some reason, he still managed to continue speaking, even if he was half-choking.

Realistically, this should not be possible, but combined with his high level and the fact that slaves were stronger, he still continued to blabber on.

Eagle was about to order him to stop talking, but Mathilda arrived beside him to stop. “No, if we stop it at this juncture, then he’d have succeeded. Or at least he’d think he did.”

Eagle and the others looked worried, but they knew she was right.

At this, Mathilda looked at the crowd.

Very few actually seemed shaken. She smiled. Although Fargo’s words shocked them a bit, but they were not as shaken as he probably thought.

And they were not about to allow him to die not knowing that.