บท 499: Weakness of the Soul

Chen Xiaolian was not a saint without principles.

In the African jungle, he saw through human nature, and when it came to those "refugees" filled with human ugliness, he could harden his heart and turned a blind eye.

However, this didn't mean he was a cold-hearted guy.

To put it this way, he was just an ordinary person.

Although young and wise, his identity as a writer had allowed him to delve into a wide range of useful and useless knowledge. But in terms of character, he was essentially an ordinary young man—perhaps a bit precocious, but that was about it.

As for those African refugees, Chen Xiaolian would have deemed them not worth saving.

But he wouldn't have gone as far as to slaughter them.

Just like right then, he was watching the bustling crowd on the street.

He also wouldn't have felt any psychological burden about killing these strangers who had nothing to do with him.

Even though he knew it was a simulation.