Having emptied one vial of injection, Palmer took out another and plunged it into Morrison's body.
He raised his eyebrows and said with a tone of envy, "But who doesn't want to be a movie protagonist?"
"The outdated noble spirit influences me. I am the heir to the Clarks, how can I be like him, rolling in the mud like a desperate outlaw?"
Palmer muttered to himself, "Well, at times, I am indeed outrageous, but I still can't understand him..."
The cold gaze locked with Morrison's.
"Now I understand."
"If even the flames of revenge must be bound by red tape, then these flames are indeed worthless."
Palmer agreed with Bologue's philosophy, "This is not a perverted pleasure, but a belated judgment, vowing to punish the wicked with the most cruel penalty."
Palmer stood up, tidied his collar, and his towering shadow completely enveloped Morrison.
"Thinking this way, all our actions are virtuous deeds."
