𝙹𝙰𝙲𝙺_𝙺𝚁𝙰𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚁

For a year I searched for Krauser, the thirst for revenge devoured me. Every story about his cruelty only strengthened the desire to kill him. But the closer I got to the goal, the more often I asked myself: "Am I the same kind of monster?"
Finally, I found Krauser in an abandoned temple. "Kill me," he hissed, "revenge is a dish that is served cold." The fight was fierce. I threw him against the wall, but he's not broken yet. I had a dagger in my hand, glittering in the dim light of the temple.

For a year I searched for Krauser, the thirst for revenge devoured me. Every story about his cruelty only strengthened the desire to kill him. But the closer I got to the goal, the more often I asked myself: "Am I the same kind of monster?"
Finally, I found Krauser in an abandoned temple. "Kill me," he hissed, "revenge is a dish that is served cold." The fight was fierce. I threw him against the wall, but he's not broken yet. I had a dagger in my hand, glittering in the dim light of the temple. I looked at him, then at Krauser, and the question rang in my head again: "Can evil be defeated by evil?"