Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Wayne, unseen, sneered down from the head of the stairs. The old man said, "He'll be okay. Let him alone." "But he won't eat. Just lies there all the time." Wayne watched the ritual, grinning. He listened to their purposeless impulses. Wayne had heard about it often enough. Anyway there was no doubt about it when every move he made was a restrained explosion. So he'd waited in his room, and it wasn't easy sweating it out alone waiting for the breakout call from HQ. They heard Wayne slouching loosely down the stairs and looked up. "Relax," Wayne said. "You're not going anywhere tonight." He could feel them watching him, waiting and yet still he didn't "Hell," Wayne said, grinning straight into the old man. "I just got my Wayne grinned down. "Higher I hope than a typewriter jockey." A tired fat corporal with a naked head blinked up at tall Wayne. The corporal's little eyes studied Wayne with malicious amusement. Wayne's mouth twitched. He leaned across the counter toward the while Wayne examined the weapons, broke open the revolver, twirled the incandescence of it trickled on his brain like melted ice, exciting and scary. He removed his leather jacket. He slung the holster under his left armpit and tested the spring clip release several times, feeling the way the serrated butt dropped into his wet palm. He put his jacket back on and the switchblade case in his pocket. He walked toward the elevator and didn't look back as the corporal said, "Good luck, tiger." Wayne felt the assured smile die on his face. Something seemed to Contemptuously amused little eyes glittered at Wayne from a shaggy he screamed. They kept a guy on the fire until desire leaped in him, ran and billowed and roared until his brain was filled with it. But that wasn't enough. If this muscle-bound creep was such a big boy, what was he doing holding down a desk? from Wayne's nose. He jerked up a shaky hand involuntarily and clamped A copcar stopped Wayne as he started over the bridge, out of bright Wayne's fearful exhilaration increased as he cruised with bated breath He found the alley, dark, a gloom-dripping tunnel. He drove cautiously into it and rolled along, watching. His belly ached with expectancy as shirt clinging to a pale stick body. He reminded Wayne of a slim grub a dirty, greenish tinge as he sensed Wayne there. He turned in a grotesque uncoordinated jiggling and his eyes were wide with terror and doom. "I gotta hide, kid. They're on me." Wayne's chest rose and his hands curled. "Help me, kid." He turned with a scratchy cry and retreated before the sudden blast Wayne's breath quickened as he watched, feeling somehow blank wonder at finding himself there, free and breaking out at last with no curfew and no law but his own. He felt as though he couldn't stop anything. Living seemed directionless, but he still would go with it regardless, until something dropped off or blew to hell like a hot light-bulb. He held his breath, waiting. His body was tensed and rigid as he moved in laughed. Wayne wanted to shout. He opened his mouth, but the yell clogged up somewhere, so that he remained soundless yet with his mouth still open as he heard the payoff thuds where the useless wino curled up with stick arms over his rheumy face. Wayne walked over and sneered down at the human garbage lying in pursued by the hollow haunting fears of his own desires. He walked through the wavering haze of smoke and liquored dizziness and Wayne smiled with wry superiority at the redheaded psycho in a dirty sat rigid, eyes fixed on Wayne like balls of frozen glass. Red looked up and stared straight at Wayne with eyes like black buttons cat's. Wayne returned the challenging move but felt a nervous twitch jerk at his lips. A numbness covered his brain like a film as he concentrated on staring down Red the psycho. But Red kept looking, his eyes bright but dead. Then he began struggling it up again with the scared little mouse. Wayne drank. Liquored heat dripped into his stomach. Fire tickled his crashed. Wayne's .38 dropped from its spring-clip holster and the blast holding something in. The mouse darted by, eluded Wayne's grasp and was Wayne went out after her in a laughing frenzy of release. He felt the sliding down a brick shute. He gained. He moved up. His labored breath pumped more fire. And her scream was a rejuvenation hypo in his blood. She quivered above him on the stoop, panting, her eyes afire with "You, baby," Wayne gasped. "I gotcha." a squeaking sob, turned, ran. Wayne leaped into gloom. Wood cracked. She scurried up sagging stairs. Wayne laughed and dug up after her, He started up. The entire stair structure canted sickeningly. A railing ripped and he nearly went with it back down to the first floor. He cracks. A rat ran past Wayne and fell into space. He burst into the tongue. He watched what was left of her nerves go to pieces like rotten cloth. "Do it quick, hunter," she whispered. "Please do it quick." "What's that, baby?" "I'm tired running. Kill me first. Beat me after. They won't know the difference." "I'm gonna bruise and beat you," he said. "Kill me first," she begged. "I don't want—" She began to cry. She cried right up in his face, her wide eyes unblinking, and her mouth open. "You got bad blood, baby," he snarled. He laughed but it didn't sound like him and something was wrong with his belly. It was knotting up. "Bad, I know! So get it over with, please. Hurry, hurry." She was small and white and quivering. She moaned but kept staring up at him. He ripped off his rivet-studded belt and swung once, then groaned and shuffled away from her. He kept backing toward the door. She crawled after him, begging and clutching with both arms as she wriggled forward on her knees. "Don't run. Please. Kill me! It'll be someone else if you don't. Oh, God, I'm so tired waiting and running!" "I can't," he said, and sickness soured in his throat. "Please." "I can't, I can't!" He turned and ran blindly, half-fell down the cracking stairs. Doctor Burns, head of the readjustment staff at the Youth Center, studied Wayne with abstract interest. "You enjoyed the hunt, Seton? You got your kicks?" "Yes, sir." "But you couldn't execute them?" "No, sir." be done for them? That they have to be executed?" "I know." "Too bad," the doctor said. "We all have aggressive impulses, primitive "I—felt sorry for her." "Is that all you can say about it?" "Yes, sir." "No, sir," Wayne mumbled. He didn't look up. "I'm sorry I punked out." "Give him the treatment," the doctor said wearily. "And send him back to his mother." Wayne nodded and they led him away. His mind screamed still to split open some prison of bone and lay bare and breathing wide. But there was no way out for the trapped. Now he knew about the old man and his poker-playing pals. They had all punked out.

<question>:
What realization do you think Wayne might have had after his journey?

<options>:
A He realized he did not have the emotional strength he thought he had to complete the mission.
B He realized that Captain Jack had set him up to make him regret the draft call.
C He realized that his parents are to blame for his weaknesses.
D He realized that he was emotionally strong enough for the mission, but it was still too gruesome for him.

<answer>:

A