Evil As Humans Ch212

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 212: 2/3

The way that group of Primordial Elementals—let’s call them “cats” for now—moved was truly eye-opening for Yin Ren.

He was still baffled by what the other party had said. [There are other humans here.] Then he saw the group of cats waving their soft limbs, and the surrounding Other Side corridor began to spin rapidly. The cat legion followed one after another, entangling with the group of people and leapt into the vortex. The next moment, a brand-new tunnel appeared before everyone.

After one vortex came another, and physical distance became completely irrelevant. The people felt as if they were immersed in a kaleidoscope, with everything around them dazzling and bewildering. Although there was no ground beneath their feet, the cats leaped with determination. Though the paths were mostly similar, their strides were resolute.

The cats navigated with ease and took off in a certain direction.

Their destination was very close to the tunnel wall. As the cats approached the colorful edge of the tunnel, countless fragments writhed and merged, forming the outline of a hospice institution.

The wall tiles here were pristine and smooth, while over there the wall covering was corroded and peeling. Snow piled up on the windowsills, and rain tapped on the glass windows. At the same time, the courtyard’s floor tiles and weeds were stained red by the setting sun, reflecting a blood-red twilight. By the flower bed, a rocking chair gently swayed, and the “people” on it resembled dolls made of stitched cloth, with each inch of their skin belonging to a different person.

This small courtyard seemed to be pieced together from the impressions of countless people. Every detail was chaotic and fragmented, with only silence prevailing.

The atmosphere of this institution was gloomy, and combined with the chaotic scenery, it should have been frightening. However, the courtyard, benches, bushes… In every corner, there were tablecloths with cat patterns. They were so identical in style that it seemed like they were copy-pasted, and the colors were fresh and adorable.

Everyone in Shian looked at each other, unsure of how to react. Only Dr. Cat’s fur stood on end, revealing a subtly intriguing expression on its fluffy face.

Yin Ren somewhat understood it—when he was at the Fu residence, he saw those various paintings of Zhong Yi, and it was difficult to shake off that awkward feeling.

“The stains on them are identical to Gao Mengyu’s tablecloth.”

Zhong Chengshuo took two steps closer to Yin Ren.

“Lifeless objects cannot be brought in. These are probably their own imaginations.”

Since his hair couldn’t move now, Yin Ren simply grabbed Zhong Chengshuo’s hand and looked around.

Many cats didn’t follow the legion’s expedition. They coiled their soft limbs and collapsed lazily on the tablecloth, treating it as a comfortable nest. They spread out fourteen pairs of eyes on the ground, basking in the nonexistent sunlight.

Contrasting the physiques of these cats, Gao Mengyu’s cat was undoubtedly the fattest. Compared to the smallest cat in the courtyard, it was twice as big. At the moment, it was squeaking and chirping at the remaining companions, exhibiting the demeanor of a leader.

“Just a group of ‘Lonely’.”

Qi Xin crossed her arms, clearly unhappy to be challenged by such small creatures.

“They only grew stronger in recent centuries, but they do have some courage.”

As soon as she spoke, all the chattering “Lonely” cats in the courtyard simultaneously fell silent.

Led by Gao Mengyu’s cat, they lined up in front of Qi Xin according to their size, extending their soft limbs as if offering themselves to be cut or slaughtered.

Yin Ren almost burst out laughing.

“Lonely” Elementals? No wonder it got along so well with Gao Mengyu. There was indeed no hostility around. Whether it was due to lack of food or their nature, most of the “Lonely” cats were lazy and had nothing to do with animosity.

[I’m sorry!]

Gao Mengyu’s cat took the lead in apologizing, practically flattening itself like a pancake.

[We are just desperate. We truly mean no harm.]

Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo understood, but the rest of the humans couldn’t communicate with them through thoughts. To them, the cats probably just emitted an unpleasant noise.

“In Gao Mengyu’s disappearance case, this creature accidentally slipped through a gap and ended up in the human world.” As a bridge between humans and Elementals, Yin Ren quickly intervened. “Zhong Chengshuo and I have had contact with it before, and it is quite friendly towards humans.”

Seemingly to confirm his statement, Gao Mengyu’s cat clutched the tablecloth and covered its hole-ridden body with it. Unfortunately, its limbs, resembling the convolutions of a brain, still extended outward. Against the backdrop of the cute cat pattern, its appearance became even more peculiar.

Huang Jin and Ge Tingting were utterly confused, but the expression of the senior member, Lu Xiaohe, loosened slightly.

She remembered Gao Mengyu’s case.

Lu Xiaohe took a few deep breaths, finally pulling her thoughts out of extreme mode. She made an effort not to dwell on the horrors of the creatures and instead took two steps forward, extending her hand towards the cats’ soft limbs.

The cat was overjoyed and lightly touched Lu Xiaohe’s hand with its soft limb before retracting it. Two sweet “meows” were squeezed out of the holes on its body.

Yin Ren helped with simultaneous translation. “It just said, ‘I rely on consuming the “loneliness” from fresh brain marrow to survive, and humans have been kind to me’.”

“Well, I remember the case files. They eat pig brains, right?” Lu Xiaohe smirked. “Pigs are social animals, so it’s not surprising they have these emotions.”

Qi Xin still had a stern expression. “No wonder. The Other Side is so barren, while you’ve grown so fat. It turns out there were humans specifically feeding you.”

[So, I don’t want to fight humans. After we discovered those humans, we’ve been avoiding them.] The cat said.

[They might have sensed that, thinking we’re easy to deal with, so they’ve been chasing after us. I want to communicate, but they don’t understand.]

Upon hearing Yin Ren’s translation, Lu Xiaohe lost her composure first. She took a big step forward and firmly grasped the cat’s soft limb. “There are other humans here? Who? Where?”

The cat was startled by her, tilting its whole body backward.

“That’s the question I wanted to ask.” Yin Ren looked at the fourteen bright red eyes. “You said there are humans here. What’s going on?”

[I don’t know. I don’t know much about humans.]

The cat admitted honestly.

[But they will definitely come and attack soon. You can go meet them.]

……

When the cat said “soon,” it truly meant soon. Less than three minutes after the cat spoke, before Lu Xiaohe could calm down her emotions, a powerful beam of light suddenly struck the courtyard.

Flashing, dazzling radiance burst forth, causing vibrations and shaking in the small courtyard, faintly showing signs of collapsing. The cats in the entire courtyard squealed and scattered, running in all directions.

Accompanied by a massive explosion, a tremendous Evil Force washed over them.

Qi Xin stood in place, observing coldly. Yin Ren instantly wanted to erect a barrier and protect everyone. However, magic couldn’t be used, there were too many people, and their true forms couldn’t be easily revealed. Lord Ghost King was tragically stuck in place, only managing to use his body to shield Zhong Chengshuo.

As the aftermath of the explosion lingered, their enemies officially made their entrance.

Among countless flickering fragments, three young figures appeared.

The woman at the forefront had long disheveled hair, and her red shirt was torn at the edges. She stood in the front, tall and strong, laughing wantonly, constantly twirling something shiny on her fingertip—Yin Ren’s pupils contracted, barely getting a glimpse.

It was a ring attached to a bracelet.

Following closely behind her was a female police officer. The police officer’s uniform was clean, and her short hair was neatly groomed. She had a serious expression, gripping a gun tightly with the muzzle aimed at the crowd.

Behind the two women was a young man. He had a gentle and kind appearance, exuding a scholarly aura. On his chest, there hung a relatively new Shian employee ID card.

“How fascinating.”

The woman with long hair laughed.

“I mean, if you want to create cognitive pollution, at least bring out people we actually know. What’s all this?”

Her voice was loud, clear, and real.

Three humans—three humans who moved effortlessly on the Other Side, even possessing means of attack. And the faces of two of them were in the files of this mission.

Unbelievable emotions kept accumulating, causing a brief burst of chaos—

“Zhong Chengfeng!” Yin Ren pointed at the female police officer and shouted, reaching out to grab Zhong Chengshuo. “Isn’t she your sister? Her face is exactly the same as in the photo!”

Huang Jin had a more practical target. He stared at the woman with long hair in shock. “Isn’t that Meng Huai, the one who went missing?”

Lu Xiaohe’s focus was a bit off track. She looked at the man wearing the employee ID card. “That’s that person! The one who went missing two years ago in the Shian office area… I remember he was in the rear command… It can’t be wrong…”

As she spoke, her eyes gradually brightened, revealing a mix of joy and hope. She instinctively wanted to move forward but was blocked and tripped up by Dr. Cat using its body.

“Are you all idiots?! It’s been almost thirty years. How is it possible that those people have nothing to do with this?!” It yelled sharply. “This could be cognitive pollution!”

“Well, the cognitive pollution is done quite well. The acting is quite convincing.” The woman who resembled Meng Huai remarked.

“It’s just unrealistic that cats can speak human language. How about it? Did they extract too much animation information? …Shall we all transform and see?”

A group of “Lonely” cats innocently curled up—they really hadn’t done anything.

While Meng Huai joked, she didn’t slow down her actions. After adjusting her posture for a moment, she said, “Chengfeng, assist!”

“Got it!”

The woman resembling Zhong Chengfeng, the female police officer, responded and fired her gun. This time, Yin Ren remembered. He grabbed Zhong Chengshuo and Lu Xiaohe, retreating several steps in succession.

Where the bullets hit, a series of dangerous explosions erupted once again, unleashing another wave of Evil Force. Qi Xin floated calmly in the air, having made up her mind to watch coldly.

…Strange.

Yin Ren twitched his nose, distinguishing the differences in the Evil Force between the two attacks.

Each time there was an explosion, there were always two Evil Force appearing in pairs. In just two waves of attacks, there were already four different types of Evil Force.

He couldn’t figure out the principle behind it for a moment. But one thing was certain—the enemies in front of them were using Evil Force as weapons.

“Be careful.” Dr. Cat at some point had snuck up next to him and nudged his feet. “The enemies on the other side could be illusions, and these cats could be illusions too. Or even earlier—after entering the Other Side, everything is an illusion. Theoretically, it’s all possible.”

It moved its whiskers solemnly.

“If you can avoid fighting, then don’t fight. Who knows who will get hurt in the end…”

“It’s not an illusion.”

Zhong Chengshuo lifted the back of the cat’s neck and politely threw it onto Fu Tianyi’s face. He opened his pitch-black eyes wide and looked at Zhong Chengfeng not far away.

“This so-called sister of his now looks a few years younger than his physical body.”

“Leave it to me.”

With that, Zhong Chengshuo lightly patted Yin Ren’s shoulder and walked forward on his own. Then he opened his empty hands and raised them above his head, assuming a standard surrender position.

Seeing this person who appeared to be her sibling approaching, Zhong Chengfeng hesitated. She fired a few more shots, but they all landed near Zhong Chengshuo’s feet.

Zhong Chengshuo chose the most open spot in the courtyard and calmly stopped in his tracks.

The next moment, the scenery behind him changed.

Imagined memories reappeared, with half of the Zhong family’s home appearing behind him.

The repaired walls, scratched floor, old dining table, slightly greasy kitchen, outdated cabinets, and a tacky TV wall… Various scenes slowly took shape behind Zhong Chengshuo.

The elderly Zhong Youde, with white hair, was wearing an apron and carrying a bowl of stewed beef and potatoes to the table. Cheng Xuehua was holding chopsticks, her figure thin and small, with deep wrinkles on her face, like a shriveled fruit.

Zhong Chengfeng’s gunfire ceased.

The female police officer stared blankly at the scene in front of her. Her lips slightly parted, and her serious expression cracked, revealing a touch of warmth and sadness.

“Dad, Mom…”

“Chengfeng!” Meng Huai warned.

“It’s not cognitive pollution.” Zhong Chengfeng slightly lowered her gun barrel, her eyes turning red. “Home… has changed a lot, and a lot has happened… even Mom and Dad…”

Zhong Chengfeng licked her lips, took a deep breath, and paid no attention to the tears streaming down her face. She turned the gun barrel and pointed it directly at Zhong Chengshuo.

“Who are you?”

Her voice carried a sense of urgency.

Zhong Chengshuo observed her up and down for a moment without immediately answering.

He turned to Meng Huai and raised his left arm in another direction.

This time, a memory appeared of the underground elevator and corridor of Shian.

“I don’t think you’re someone who easily gets passionate. Today, I brought you here to let you see the ‘basics’ of Shian—Phenomenon A-A3, Evil Spirit.” Li Nian’s figure appeared near the elevator.

It was the familiar Professor Li that everyone knew. He still had that serious expression, dressed in a stern manner like a head teacher, and the pale reflection of a wedding ring on his slender finger.

Since it was from Zhong Chengshuo’s memory, Li Nian’s eyes were looking into the void, directly facing Meng Huai on the other side. This gaze was like Medusa’s stare, and Meng Huai froze for a full two seconds.

“Shian B-level Special Investigation Team, Unit 9, Science Post, Zhong Chengshuo.”

Zhong Chengshuo took a step closer to the two frozen individuals and raised his hands again.

“We came to the Other Side to search for clues regarding the disappearance of Meng Huai, Zhong Chengfeng, and He Huan.”

Upon hearing Zhong Chengshuo’s name, Zhong Chengfeng anxiously tried to approach, but she was stopped by Meng Huai. Unlike Zhong Chengfeng, Meng Huai’s face turned dark like the bottom of a pot.

“This is too fake. Li Nian clearly despises Shian the most,” she said. “These pieces of information can be deduced from our memories. On my end, my love life is fulfilling, and on Chengfeng’s end, her parents are healthy, as if wishes have come true… And your eyes lack a human touch. Sunken Society, right?”

[I told you it would be difficult to communicate with them.]

Gao Mengyu’s cat draped the tablecloth tightly as it whimpered and complained. Yin Ren touched its soft limbs, not knowing what to say for a moment.

He didn’t remember all the details like Zhong Chengshuo did. Moreover, there were many people present, and if he revealed his true form, it would be no different from launching indiscriminate attacks. The joy of being able to freely walk on the Other Side didn’t last long before that feeling of powerlessness resurfaced.

“If you need more evidence, I can accompany you… Lu Xiaohe?” On the other side, just as Zhong Chengshuo was about to continue negotiating, a figure stumbled forward.

Lu Xiaohe shook off the hands of Huang Jin and Ge Tingting and limped towards the other side. Her expression was somewhat twisted, filled with an overwhelming mix of emotions that ultimately flowed into her reddened eyes.

“Lu Xiaohe!” Seeing Meng Huai’s tightly gripped hand and Zhong Chengfeng’s restless gun barrel, Yin Ren couldn’t help but shout.

Just as he was about to catch up, he heard a trembling cry.

“Don’t come over!”

Lu Xiaohe continued to move forward without looking back.

“And you, Zhong Chengshuo, don’t come over either!”

Zhong Chengshuo maintained his imagination, frowning as he looked at Lu Xiaohe’s back. Yin Ren clenched his fist, completely focused on the other party, and noticed a slight movement in a strand of hair.

The two sides were not far apart, and although Lu Xiaohe walked slowly, it felt like she had been walking for a century.

“Shian B-Level Special Investigation Team, Unit 9, Science Post, Rear Command Lu Xiaohe.”

Lu Xiaohe stopped, only four or five steps away from the three on the other side. Her voice was so hoarse that it was chilling.

“I’ll get straight to the point. I reluctantly believe that you are Meng Huai, Zhong Chengfeng, and that someone who disappeared from the Shian office area. Your current actions are the basic units of the Black Seal Non-Science Post, paired with the Red Seal Science Post, along with the Rear Commander.”

“Meng Huai used to be a member of the Emergency Management Department, so she should have a way to verify the authenticity of our human identities. No matter how harmful it may be, please test it on me—of course, if you are fake, I believe my teammates will also be able to tell.”

Meng Huai narrowed her eyes. “You’ve got quite the audacity. Do you know—”

“I’m running out of time.”

Lu Xiaohe interrupted her.

She stared fixedly at Meng Huai, and the members of Unit 9 almost simultaneously took a step back. Lu Xiaohe usually spoke gently and had an incredibly good temper. They had never seen her wear such an expression.

Desire, anticipation, eagerness… along with a deep and overwhelming fear of losing and being lost.

“We have come to investigate the disappearance of Meng Huai and Zhong Chengfeng twenty-nine years ago, as well as the recent disappearance of He Huan.”

She emphasized each word.

“He Huan is my mother.”

After saying this, countless emotions found an outlet—the suppressed fuse finally burned to its end, and the imagination behind her instantly exploded.

Her mother’s embrace during her childhood, the arguments and quarrels during her student days, the leaning on each other during their university years. Lu Xiaohe gradually grew up, her baby clothes turned into school uniforms, and the school uniforms turned into plain attire. Eventually, she tightly held the medical bill and accepted Shian’s offer.

At the same time, her mother transformed from a young woman to a plump figure, only to be consumed by illness, leaving behind a withered and emaciated appearance.

The two of them underwent changes, like waves and sand.

A variety of images constructed a wall in her imagination, almost filling the sky and the earth.

And in the center, the most vivid image was the day her mother disappeared.

Lush greenery and perfect sunlight.

She vanished just like that, while those who disappeared almost thirty years earlier stood here, and those who disappeared two years earlier were also present.

But what about her mother?

“You can calculate and find countless loopholes and engage in theoretical debates for three days and nights. But I can’t wait.”

Lu Xiaohe clenched her teeth. Behind her was her entire life. They flickered incessantly, layer upon layer, weighing her down to the point of suffocation.

“Take action, Ms. Meng Huai.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Evil As Humans Ch211

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 211: Cat Legion

Gao Mengyu’s appearance remained the same, with her hair casually tied in a ponytail. However, she looked slightly plumper than before and had a gleam in her eyes. Lin Bei, as composed as ever, stood up and shook hands with Li Nian and Fu Xingchuan when they entered the reception room.

“We initially wanted to contact Yin Ren, but there has been no response from him,” she explained proactively.

“You mentioned before that anything related to ‘Qiqi’ should be kept confidential. Even within the ranks of Shian, communication should be handled by designated individuals.” Lin Bei sat back down elegantly, crossed her legs gracefully, and continued, “We’re not familiar with the internal hierarchy of Shian, so we had no choice but to bother the two of you.”

“Qiqi” referred to the peculiar cat creature that Gao Mengyu used to raise. It was classified as Phenomenon C-C19 at the time, known as the “Gap Cat”.

It possessed a strong cognitive pollution ability and could induce incomplete interstitial phenomena. Now it seemed highly likely that it was some kind of Elemental. The so-called induction of incomplete interstices was similar to a cat scratching desperately at a door—it wanted to return to the Other Side but couldn’t find a way.

That Elemental should have returned a long time ago, and Gao Mengyu’s cognitive pollution had already been cured for several months.

‘Interesting,’ Fu Xingchuan thought to himself.

“There’s no need to worry about bothering us.”

Minster Fu smiled.

“It’s perfect timing that you’ve come to us. Has Ms. Gao encountered any difficulties?”

Gao Mengyu felt a bit shy compared to Lin Bei, who worked in the field of self-media. After adjusting her emotions for a while, she tightly gripped the mineral water bottle in her hands.

“Well, recently, I’ve been having the same dream. In the dream, Qiqi—well, not the cat I currently have, but the bigger creature from before—keeps banging on the door and meowing outside, trying to squeeze its tentacles through the door crack. In the dream, I want to open the door and let it in, but it firmly clings to the door lock and won’t let me open it.”

She still refused to call it a “monster”.

“It meows outside the door but doesn’t allow you to open it?” Fu Xingchuan furrowed his brows.

“Yes,” Gao Mengyu nervously replied.

“At first, I thought I just missed it. But for the past few days, I’ve been having this dream every night. After that, I told Beibei about it, and she insisted that I contact Shian.”

Lin Bei nodded in agreement. “There might not be much to it from Gao Mengyu’s perspective, but as an observer, I find it quite unsettling.”

“A wise decision. It’s highly likely that ‘Qiqi’ is trying to communicate with Ms. Gao,” Fu Xingchuan said, rubbing his face.

“It seems like it’s advising Gao Mengyu against going out.” Li Nian pondered. “In the past, when faced with danger, its reaction was to hide Gao Mengyu in the gap. But now, it can only warn her like this.”

Gao Mengyu let out a soft “Ah” and revealed a faint smile. “Thank you both. So, should I go out less often in the future?”

“Well, the current situation is unstable, so it’s wise to be cautious.” Fu Xingchuan lightly tapped the table with his fingertips. “Apart from the recurring dream, have you noticed any other abnormalities in your life?”

Gao Mengyu hesitated for a moment, and a fleeting expression of wanting to speak but the expression as if she was holding back appeared on her face. She looked at Lin Bei, who nodded gently in response. Fu Xingchuan could sense her hesitation, but he remained silent, waiting for Gao Mengyu to speak up on her own.

As expected, after half a minute of wavering, Gao Mengyu let out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry, but I lied to Shian back then.”

She lowered her head.

“When everyone helped me with my cognitive pollution, I… I didn’t wait until it was completely cured. I lied and said it was cured. At that time, I just wanted to keep a memento so that I wouldn’t forget about Qiqi.”

“And then?” Li Nian replied nonchalantly.

Gao Mengyu averted her gaze nervously. “After that incident, all the cats I saw had fourteen eyes. Other than that, there are no abnormalities. But ever since I dreamed about Qiqi a few days ago, I started seeing… seeing…”

She seemed to be carefully choosing her words and took a while to continue.

“I see something disgusting attached to some people’s bodies.”

After speaking, she took out her phone and showed the two ministers her drawings.

It looked like an… umbilical cord-like object. It was composed of countless twisted, vein-like tubes, hanging down from the void above and softly resting on a person’s shoulder.

“I can’t capture that feeling in my drawings.” Gao Mengyu hesitated. “Is this what Qiqi is trying to show me? It’s present on people of all ages and genders, and I can’t see anything special about them.”

“Let me continue.”

Lin Bei took over the conversation.

“Mengyu has drawn more than just this one. It looks like an umbilical cord, right? But when she first started sketching, just based on the outline, it looked more like an arm.”

Fu Xingchuan suddenly looked up.

Lin Bei tucked away a disobedient strand of hair and had a serious expression on her face. “Recently, there have been reports about ‘angel’s arms’ that have been widely talked about. Our studio recently signed related contracts, and we interviewed someone yesterday who could see these arms. Mengyu also saw this thing on him.”

“…Now I can confirm that it was your cat that made you see these things,” Fu Xingchuan muttered.

Shian’s instruments and techniques couldn’t detect them, so it was likely something from the Other Side.

“Ms. Gao, if you don’t mind, would you be willing to stay at Shian for a while?” Professor Li straightforwardly extended an invitation. “We need your abilities, and in this way, your ‘Qiqi’ will also feel more at ease. Shian will cover all your living expenses and housing during this period.”

“Uh, okay.”

Lin Bei breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good, so I don’t have to worry about this guy anymore. If there’s nothing else, I’ll leave now. I have a meeting this afternoon.”

“Wait.”

Li Nian called her back.

“Ms. Lin, earlier you mentioned that your self-media studio signed contracts related to the ‘angel’s arms’ and interviewed someone who can see the arms. Can you provide more specific information?”

Lin Bei was momentarily stunned. “Well… I can share the information, but everyone has been working on this topic recently, so I’m not sure how much help it will be.”

“Just tell us.”

“It’s about promoting the theme of ‘angel’s arms’ and linking it with ‘luck’ and ‘blessings’ to create a positive impression. However, this approach is quite common, and it wouldn’t be beneficial for self-media like us to spread negative associations.”

Lin Bei crossed her legs and clasped her hands on her thighs. When it came to her work, her tone instantly became composed.

“Basically, the goal is to make this topic popular and trending. With the current instability in society, everyone likes to see something reassuring. Several people I know are working on it as well.”

Li Nian neither confirmed nor denied anything. “I see… Do you happen to know which company is the most active investor in this field?”

“Don’t worry, this isn’t an official inquiry. Just my personal curiosity,” Professor Li added casually, noticing Lin Bei’s dilemma.

“Coral Reef Group,” Lin Bei replied. “They are also the ones who signed a contract with me this time.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Li Nian nodded.

“You both have been very helpful.”

Watching the two women hurriedly leave, Fu Xingchuan chugged down a bottle of mineral water. “Coral Reef Group? Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Do you remember Gao Mengyu’s ex-boyfriend ghost called ‘Mr. Rose’? When he first appeared, he scared some employees of the Coral Reef Group.”

Li Nian tapped his temple with his slender index finger.

“And then there’s Bai Yongji, the quasi-Charon responsible for new media at the Coral Reef Group. If he hadn’t caused any trouble, he would be the one in charge of dealing with Lin Bei. Now they’re pushing the ‘angel’s arms’ matter. How interesting.”

Indeed, based on these events alone, the “Coral Reef Group” didn’t seem suspicious.

Mr. Rose’s mischief made their employees the victims. Bai Yongji’s kidnapping and modification of others had nothing to do with his job. As for the recent arm incidents, many new media players were paying attention to them, and there was no evidence of malicious intent from the Coral Reef Group.

It was a well-established local private enterprise in Haigu, known for dabbling in various products and trends. From household items to children’s animation and even mobile games for middle-aged and elderly people, Coral Reef was involved in all sorts of ventures.

Nevertheless, the repeated incidents associated with them raised some concerns…

“It’s subtle.”

With a click, Fu Xingchuan crushed the mineral water bottle.

“We can’t do anything about the Other Side,” he muttered a bit meaningfully. “But if someone interferes, we can’t let it go.”

“You want to investigate?”

“Let’s start by keeping an eye on things,” Fu Xingchuan said. “With so many trivial matters lately, we can’t afford another troublesome case.”

……

The Other Side.

Time didn’t pass here, and everyone’s biological clocks were in disarray. After enduring twenty-four hours, Qi Xin finally announced, with a touch of pity, that they could continue their journey.

The white room disappeared, and the group entered the endless tunnel that Yin Ren had seen before. Of course, except for Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo, the rest of the people were only able to stay there with Qi Xin’s personal assistance.

Faced with this dizzying and spectacular sight, almost everyone held their breath, except for Lu Xiaohe, whose face showed a tinge of bitterness.

Her mother was here, but this place was too vast.

She had thought that coming to the Other Side would bring her some relief, but seeing the appearance of the Other Side only intensified the despair in her heart.

Countless fragments and colors stretched out like an endless sea.

Although they could imagine everyday objects here, even if Lu Xiaohe imagined computers and devices, they were just empty shells incapable of booting up or accessing data. Not to mention Ge Tingting, Huang Jin, and Fu Tianyi; their special abilities and spells were all nullified here. They were no different from ordinary people on the street and couldn’t conduct investigations on their own.

The Other Side, the Other Side. They truly seemed like they were dead, carrying only their ethereal souls.

She didn’t know what to do. They had come here to find someone, but so far, they hadn’t found any relevant clues.

Lu Xiaohe looked at Yin Ren with a hint of melancholy. Apart from waiting for Yin Ren to start searching, it seemed like there was nothing she could do.

As this thought arose, Lu Xiaohe’s face grew even more bitter.

“Everyone, take out your photos.” Qi Xin didn’t care about the psychological state of ordinary people. “Right now, I need you to adapt to walking on the Other Side. This photo is a crucial prop.”

Lu Xiaohe took out a photo of her and her mother and lowered her gaze.

In the photo, her mother had a healthy, round face. She held a young Lu Xiaohe in her arms, smiling brightly.

Lu Xiaohe knew that behind each photo should be personalized comments from five other individuals. These comments were individually written, and no one except the commentator and the owner of the photo knew the contents—this was explicitly explained when they were asked for the photos by Shian.

As a science post, Lu Xiaohe wavered for a moment. Would it count as some kind of protection if she received the blessings of her companions and the Great Celestial Master with this photo?

At this moment, Qi Xin grabbed the photo from Yin Ren’s hand and casually flipped through it. Lu Xiaohe followed her actions and turned to the back.

Only then did she notice that the edges of the photo were connected by thin black threads, which penetrated into the hard board behind the photo. Upon closer inspection, she realized that these hard boards were intricately woven with these black threads, emitting a faint black glow.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed this. Fu Tianyi tried to tear apart the photo and its base to see how long these black threads could stretch.

“Don’t tear it apart randomly!” Just then, Qi Xin reprimanded Fu Tianyi. “The photo is made with my hair connected to my original body. Otherwise, how do you think an inanimate object like a photo can enter?”

Fu Tianyi’s hand trembled, almost throwing the photo away.

This was a physical part of a Primordial Elemental, and if Qi Xin severed the connection, it would become the most powerful source of corruption within minutes.

Lu Xiaohe couldn’t care less about the commotion. She carefully read the handwriting on the back of the photo, trying to adjust her emotional state.

[Your mother will definitely be fine. Fu Tianyi] Fu Tianyi’s handwriting was pretty, indicating some practice.

[Xiaohe Jie, jiayou*! Ge Tingting] Ge Tingting’s writing was graceful and a bit youthful.

*It’s a ubiquitous Chinese expression of encouragement and support that doesn’t have a direct translation. The closest would be “refuel” (in this context), but I don’t think it quite fits.

[Wishing you success. Huang Jin] The font was neither good nor bad, just a common style.

[Lu Xiaohe, Lu Xiaohe’s mother, He Huan. Zhong Chengshuo] …It was still the human printer style she was familiar with.

[Leave it to me! Yin Ren] It was evident that Yin Ren’s handwriting lacked skill, but it had its own beauty.

On the other side, Qi Xin glared at Fu Tianyi again and continued explaining.

“There are comments behind each photo. Both the handwriting and the content are ‘you know, I know’ intelligence… Hmm, in human terms, you have established an encrypted connection between yourselves.”

She reluctantly provided the explanation.

“On the Other Side, if there is a disturbance at one end of the connection, it will naturally affect the intelligence, such as—”

Qi Xin mercilessly struck, a mist entwined around a certain limb, and she knocked Fu Tianyi unconscious with a “thump”. Dr. Cat was almost knocked off as well, and its tail puffed up.

At the same time, Fu Tianyi’s comment disappeared from Lu Xiaohe’s photo. She looked at the empty space in shock and then at Fu Tianyi, who remained motionless. Immediately after, Qi Xin lifted Fu Tianyi and woke him up amidst his sobbing.

As Fu Tianyi regained consciousness, the crooked comment reappeared, once again appearing on the back of Lu Xiaohe’s photo.

“Loss of consciousness will cause the connection to be severed, but there is another situation.”

Qi Xin tossed the weeping Fu Tianyi aside, and her misty form acted again, grabbing Zhong Chengshuo’s collar.

Zhong Chengshuo: “?”

This time, Qi Xin’s action was swift. Before Zhong Chengshuo could express his confusion, he disappeared from the spot. Yin Ren’s fur puffed up even more than Dr. Cat’s, but he couldn’t use his abilities. Lord Ghost King stepped forward a few steps, reaching out to grab Qi Xin by the collar.

Lu Xiaohe looked back at the photo.

On the back of the photo, Zhong Chengshuo’s comment became blurry and difficult to read. Moreover, the line of text was slightly tilted, leaning in a certain direction.

Like a pointer.

“The farther the distance, the weaker the connection signal. But in times like this, it can probably indicate the location of your companions… Alright, that’s the end of my explanation. You’re all clever people. You should know how to use this thing.”

Qi Xin clapped her hands with a face showing the relief of finishing an annoying task. In the next instant, Zhong Chengshuo appeared beside her with a swoosh, looking disapproving.

Yin Ren was still gripping Qi Xin’s collar with a gaze as sharp as a knife, seemingly contemplating how to slice this person into pieces.

“What’s with your expressions? If I throw away the cub, the cub will truly be lost.” Qi Xin remained calm while being held by Yin Ren, glancing at Zhong Chengshuo from the corner of her eye. “Or perhaps, Mr. Fear, do you have a different opinion?”

Zhong Chengshuo hugged his shoulder bag tightly, remaining silent.

“Is that all?” Lu Xiaohe anxiously asked. “Do we have a similar method for the missing people…”

“As long as Yin Ren becomes a mature Primordial Elemental, he will be capable of doing all the things you’re thinking of.”

Qi Xin didn’t give a direct answer, not even sparing a glance at Lu Xiaohe.

“Next is free activity time. Do whatever you want. I’m only responsible for bringing humans here, and I don’t care about anything else. If you encounter something you can’t handle, go back to the white room and wait.”

Lu Xiaohe clenched the photo tightly.

Indeed, there was no reason for Qi Xin to help humans with her abilities. Giving them an opportunity and a little guidance was already going above and beyond. In plain terms, this so-called journey to the Other Side was just an accessory for Yin Ren and the others—like a soothing toy that babies don’t want to let go of, a tiny lifeless object.

Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo were okay, but when it came to other Elementals, humans needed to remain highly vigilant and avoid contact if possible.

As Lu Xiaohe contemplated, a shrill howl echoed from the end of the tunnel. A pitch-black torrent piled up like a mountain, rushing towards them.

Yin Ren recognized this scene. It was a group of Elementals forming a cluster, surging forward in search of prey.

“By the way, let me introduce.”

Tour guide Miss Qi raised her hand, pointing towards the rushing black legion.

“This is a common phenomenon in the Other Side lately—group hunting. Due to food shortages, the weak unite to tear apart any solitary Elemental. Your photos all bear my aura, so they shouldn’t easily… huh?”

The massive legion surged forward, engulfing everyone from Shian. Countless tentacles wildly thrashed about, enveloping everyone and gathering high above their heads, dashing in a certain direction.

For a moment, screams from the people of Shian mixed together. Dr. Cat’s claws tightly gripped Fu Tianyi, who let out a yelp of pain.

What an audacious kidnapping! Even Qi Xin was stunned for a full three seconds.

Were these creatures driven mad by hunger, daring to provoke “Sorrow”?

She narrowed her eyes, and her main body was itching to make a move. But just as she was about to attack, Yin Ren’s voice could be heard amidst the cries—

“Qi Xin, stop!” he urgently shouted. “It’s an acquaintance!”

As soon as he was bound, Yin Ren felt a strange sense of familiarity.

He had definitely seen these soft, slippery, decaying-colored tentacles before. The points where the tentacles intersected formed grape-like shapes, with black and gray chunks of flesh riddled with holes. And around those chunks of flesh were embedded fourteen crimson spheres.

Hmm, he had indeed seen these things before, on a night when the moon was just right. Yin Ren quickly shifted his gaze, and sure enough—

Among them, an Elemental was holding up a tablecloth with a cat pattern using its tentacles. The tablecloth swayed as if it were a flag. With sharp and shrill sounds, its round “meow” cry was particularly grating, causing even Meiqiu to look around.

…Miss Gao Mengyu, your cat is here.

[What’s going on?!]

Before Qi Xin could speak, Yin Ren’s thoughts shot out.

The fourteen-eyed cat waved its tentacles and shook the tablecloth. “Meow!”

At the same time, its thoughts also infiltrated Yin Ren’s mind.

[They want to wage war against humans, but we don’t want to fight.]

It curled its tentacles in a pitiful manner.

Yin Ren was taken aback. [War? Do you have a way to fight in the human world?]

He glanced at the soft and squishy fourteen-eyed beings beneath him. These things had their own set of cognitive pollution and could indeed be formidable opponents.

But currently, everything was calm, without any major rifts. How would these things be able to reach the mortal realm?

Even if they could pass through the gap, without possessing a physical body, they could only hide within the gap and barely survive by traversing the interstitial space. When the time came, not to mention movement, food would be a problem.

[Not “that side”, but here.]

The “cat” responded earnestly.

[There are other humans here.]


The author has something to say:

Cat attack!


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Sendoff Ch57

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 57: Good and Evil

That night, it turned out that Shi Jingzhi’s words were correct. Yan Budu had just returned to the cave when he started vomiting blood non-stop, as if he wanted to empty his entire body of blood. In his unstable condition, not to mention the opposing force of Kongshi, Yan Budu probably couldn’t even defeat Lord Bai at the moment.

Kongshi helplessly fetched bowl after bowl of hot water and used warm water to wipe away the blood.

The linen cloth emitted faint white steam as it gradually wiped away the dark red blood stains, revealing the image of a person within the bloodstains. The blood seeped into the crevices of the fabric, then dispersed into the water, turning the clear water in the bowl a pale crimson.

The monk clenched his fingers. The warm water slid over his slender and powerful hands, falling back into the bowl with a crisp sound.

Yan Budu had a lifeless expression and spoke arrogantly. “…Venerable, there’s no need for you to bother about me. I’ll just die here on my own. You can drag the corpse back and report your completion.”

Kongshi continued to wring the blood-stained cloth as if he hadn’t heard.

While Kongshi was busy wiping away the blood again, Yan Budu propped himself up and used his strength to imprison Kongshi beneath him.

Yan Budu’s clothes had been stained with too much fresh blood earlier, so he had to take them off, revealing porcelain-white skin. His breath was scorching, turning into white vapor as it left his mouth, carrying a faint trace of blood. His long hair was stuck to his body with sweat, as if it bore some kind of curse with dark patterns.

He lightly tapped the iron bowl with his toes and covered himself with the fox fur, then draped the monk’s robe over it. The cave fell into silence, and the flickering firelight cast an orange halo that flowed and undulated along their figures.

Yan Budu separated his damp hair and deliberately propped himself up with his injured arm. The pain combined with his illness caused his whole body to tremble slightly, and blood began to seep from the wound on his severed arm. Perhaps due to his extreme weakness, Kongshi didn’t use as much force to incapacitate him as before.

“Venerable, you truly have a kind heart. An eminent monk is indeed an eminent monk.”

Yan Budu’s voice grew softer and sounded like honey mixed with blood. He traced his fingertips over Kongshi’s face, leaving several streaks of blood between his brows and eyes.

“It is fate and illness that have come to kill me. Venerable, you haven’t violated the precepts by helping me…”

Finally, he no longer made an effort to support his body but allowed himself to fall onto Kongshi’s chest. With fiery red eyes and black hair like a prison, the two of them, one on top of the other, were extremely close.

Close enough for their breaths to intertwine endlessly, with no other objects in their field of vision.

Seeing that the other’s gaze remained unchanged, Yan Budu sneered softly. He deliberately moved slightly and licked and bit the edge of Kongshi’s ear.

“So, why did Venerable help me?”

The words “help me” slipped out of his lips, each word lingering and filled with tenderness.

Days of deliberate restraint came to an end at this moment.

Yan Budu’s true nature was fully exposed. Even if it was only his state of mind, his eerie and sticky aura made people extremely uncomfortable. Tainted with the color of disease and harboring wicked thoughts as deep as the abyss, this person’s smile was both beautiful and resembled a demon living in the human world.

Kongshi moved the damp cloth skillfully, ignoring the current situation. “Please raise your arm. There’s still some blood to wipe over there.”

Yan Budu: “…”

The profound power of the Venerable shattered the lascivious atmosphere with this one sentence.

One person desired warmth under the red canopy in a romantic setting, while the other remained motionless as if wiping a lifeless object. The monk truly seemed like a stone. Not to mention any physical response, Kongshi’s face didn’t even blush.

Yan Budu immediately lost interest. He rolled to the side, laying in a lifeless “*” character, allowing the monk to manipulate him. Kongshi cleaned up Yan Budu, applying a cold cloth to his forehead. Then, he prepared some easily digestible soft vegetable soup and fed it to Yan Budu little by little.

*Big/large/heavy.

The strong wind roared, and snowflakes danced. The chessboard lay quietly a few steps away, with the remnants of the previous game’s final moves still visible.

Yan Budu had never had any issues with himself. He slowly swallowed the soup while his gaze wandered over Kongshi’s body, and then he revealed a smile that seemed to guarantee his victory. “Kongshi, oh, Kongshi, you really are…”

He didn’t finish his sentence but continued to gaze meaningfully at the monk.

Kongshi remained calm. His profound features were immersed in light and shadow, devoid of any sharpness. He always seemed to have that gentle and carefree expression, unhurried and composed.

No joy, no sorrow.

The two remained silent for a while.

Shi Jingzhi frowned. “At this rate, Venerable Kongshi’s condition isn’t good.”

“Kongshi’s martial arts are inherently effective against Yan Budu. With Yan Budu’s injured arm and weakened spirit, he doesn’t have full confidence, so he won’t easily make a move.”

“It’s not a matter of confidence, but a matter of winning or losing.”

Shi Jingzhi paused, glanced at Yin Ci, and cautiously continued, “If Yan Budu were to attack and kill Kongshi without any tricks, he wouldn’t be considered to have won against the Venerable.”

Yin Ci showed some interest. “Go on.”

Shi Jingzhi became more energized. “He learned the Nightmare Breaking Technique just to regain control of the situation. For people like Yan Budu, losing the initiative is more unbearable than death. And to win against someone like Kongshi, killing him is useless; destruction is the true victory.”

Yin Ci smiled, somewhat cryptically. “Are you speaking from experience?”

“Does your Master seem like… cough, a dark-minded person.”

When this person felt guilty, he really enjoyed referring to himself as “Master”.

“I’m not Kongshi, and I have no Buddha in my heart. I have seen people who are even crazier than you. There’s no need to be so cautious… Didn’t I already say it? I prefer someone like you.”

As soon as these words came out, Shi Jingzhi seemed to have been caught off guard. He quickly averted his gaze, focusing intensely on Yan Budu’s smoking pipe pendant.

Yin Ci shook his head, smiling.

It turned out that Shi Jingzhi and Yan Budu truly shared a deep connection.

Under Kongshi’s care, Yan Budu weathered this ordeal. He didn’t rush to kill Kongshi but instead acted as if nothing had happened, engaging in casual conversations and playing chess together.

Yin Ci could tell that Yan Budu had changed his strategy.

For several days, they maintained a harmonious atmosphere. Yan Budu knew deep down that as long as they avoided discussions of morality and righteousness, they could always find common ground. From mathematics and music theory to astronomy and history, they never ran out of topics to discuss day after day.

Yan Budu was like an experienced hunter, patiently biding his time with his prey.

He no longer mentioned the despicable things he had done, and he balanced his actions, presenting himself as a debauched gentleman. When he was in the mood, he occasionally made flirtatious moves or teasing remarks toward Kongshi. However, all of these gestures stopped just at the point where Kongshi wouldn’t shy away.

A brush of fingertips, a sweep of hair. His words were charming but not vulgar, his touches were ambiguous but not explicit; everything was just right.

Strangely enough, unlike before, Yan Budu wasn’t deliberately putting on a show. He no longer avoided the cruel and violent aspects of his character, shedding layers of masks and freely expressing his true nature, enjoying his time with Kongshi as he pleased.

True to Yan Budu’s expectations, Kongshi remained unruffled, unperturbed by the rain and wind.

And so, over a dozen days passed, nearing a month since their confinement.

The coldest moments had already passed, and the snow outside the cave had lessened considerably. Yan Budu’s injured arm was finally approaching full recovery.

Their daily routines became regular.

In the morning, Kongshi went out to dispel the illusion and open a path, while Yan Budu took on the task of foraging and would bring back vegetables, meat, and eggs. One vegetarian and one meat-eater, yet their ways never clashed.

After finishing lunch, they played chess. A game would take several hours, and the two would engage in lively conversations, discussing a wide range of topics. The two masters were knowledgeable and talented, and the cold atmosphere of the previous days of silence was no longer present.

At sunset, the chess game would always end in a draw. Kongshi would begin reciting sutras, while Yan Budu silently practiced his internal cultivation to heal his injuries. Occasionally, when he couldn’t hold it anymore, he would vomit some blood, and Kongshi would help him wash his clothes, clean his body, and adjust his inner force.

During these moments, Yan Budu would always take advantage of the situation* until the monk furrowed his brows.

*Wipe oil/eat tofu/mopping water. Term used to describe taking advantage of others in public.

Compared to the initial confrontation filled with hostility and madness, it now seemed like a fantasy. Simply looking at these days, they resembled friends who had accumulated years of understanding, rather than mortal enemies.

Compared to the beginning, Yan Budu seemed much more relaxed, whether it was acting or genuine. Kongshi’s expression remained unchanged, as gentle as ever.

But the observing master and disciple understood that this was merely a brief period of peace after the two of them stumbled upon the ancient formation.

Once the remnants of the formation outside the mountain were resolved, severe cold and snowstorms would no longer be able to confine masters like Yan Budu and Kongshi. They would leave this narrow cave and enter an endless state of life and death—either Kongshi would die here, or Yan Budu would be captured by Kongshi and taken to the Jianchen Temple, never to see daylight again.

They couldn’t stay here forever.

…How exactly did Yan Budu plan to “destroy Kongshi”?

To deceive Kongshi through days of familiarity, to stir emotions in the monk? Or was he going to pretend to repent and then strike from behind?

Yan Budu had lived an extremely cruel and violent life, with no satisfying opponent or trusted friend. If he were to spend his final years like this, it might even be considered the best way to die. Did he truly still want to “destroy Kongshi”?

Yan Budu was a person who had always been unrestrained, without any taboos, and acted recklessly. He couldn’t be judged by ordinary standards. At this point, the master and disciple were no longer certain.

Until a change occurred.

On that day, as usual, they were playing chess when they suddenly discussed “death”.

“I’m unwilling to die like this. Kongshi, have you ever heard of the ‘Shirou’? By consuming it, one can achieve immortality and eternal youth.”

“Amitabha. Such practices are not encouraged in Buddhism.”

“I guessed as much. A sect that amuses itself with the heavy sand hoop couldn’t possibly seek immortality.”

“Has Patron found the Shirou?”

“If I had, would I still be here?”

Kongshi slowly placed a chess piece down. “Then what about after Patron achieves immortality?”

“…Why are you suddenly asking about this?”

“Patron is now superior to ordinary people, having experienced all the wealth and luxury of the human world and seeing all beings as no more than pigs and dogs. So, once Patron ascends to immortality, what kind of thoughts and way of life does Patron plan to have?”

Yan Budu’s breath hitched.

“Wealth beyond measure, infamy renowned. The masses are dull, and there’s no one by your side. If Patron becomes an immortal, it will only prolong this situation. Forgive this humble monk for failing to see the difference.”

“Immortals are different from ordinary mortals. How can there be no difference?”

“Then, will Patron abandon worldly desires and sever the seven emotions and six desires?” Kongshi unusually laughed. “Is Patron willing to do so?”

Yan Budu’s face also darkened unusually. “Who was the one who said he would save me? Kongshi, what do you mean by this?”

“Amitabha. This humble monk is curious.”

“You’re curious too? That’s rare.”

“The remnants of the formation outside the mountain have been resolved by about eighty to ninety percent, and the mountain path has appeared. Perhaps by tomorrow, we won’t have the chance to converse anymore. This humble monk just wants to seek clarity while we still have this opportunity, that’s all.”

The final game?

So this was their final game.

A month of ease and tranquility ultimately turned out to be a fleeting illusion. Just like the ever-changing chessboard every day, the outcome never changed.

Yan Budu’s expression slightly changed, shifting from melancholy to a faint arrogance, which then transformed into pity tinged with a sense of charity.

In the span of a stick of incense, he slowly tightened his grip on the chess piece and spoke casually, “Once I become an immortal, the first thing I’ll do is take my time. I’ll do whatever I want, no longer worrying about all those nonsense matters and dealing with two-faced people who speak with forked tongues.”

“After all, mortals in this world are just a few masks and a few types of reactions. I’ve grown tired of killing people, so why not catch an interesting immortal to pass the time with me? The heavenly realm is so vast; there must be someone I can’t see through, right? Then I’ll truly be carefree…”

…Just like this very moment.

Yan Budu slightly widened his eyes.

Kongshi saw him stop midway through his words, unable to continue, and simply reminded him in a gentle voice. “Patron, it’s your turn to make a move.”

Click.

The stone chess piece slipped from Yan Budu’s trembling fingers and fell to the ground.

In the next moment, Yan Budu spewed out a mouthful of black blood. He collapsed to the ground, curling up into a ball.

That chess piece soaked in the dark pool of blood was three shades darker than the rest.

Yan Budu’s alluring face contorted completely. Through his disheveled hair, he stared at Kongshi with eyes filled with disbelief and bitter resentment. He convulsed in pain, and filthy blood kept flowing from the corners of his mouth.

Kongshi stood up. “Patron, let me help you to another place—”

“Get lost!” Yan Budu wailed, his nails digging tightly into the ground, mangling his flesh. “Damn you, do you know…”

Before he could squeeze out a few more words, more black blood sprayed out.

Yan Budu trembled violently, almost unable to speak properly. Judging from this condition, it was even more severe than all the previous episodes combined.

The days of their mutual understanding and peace shattered into pieces. Yan Budu showed a panicked expression for the first time. His negative emotions seemed out of control—fear, sorrow, and hatred all mingled together, splattering in every direction along with the black blood.

“How could I… How could I have this intention only now…”

Unlike the previous episodes, countless small, bluish-black blood vessels appeared all over Yan Budu’s body. They intertwined with each other, delicate and intricate, against his fair skin, resembling the fine cracks of porcelain.

Beautiful yet terrifying.

Yan Budu was still playing chess normally a moment ago, but now he was burning with a high fever, and his whole head emitted heat in the freezing cold. His condition was bizarre, as if possessed by a demon, yet there were no signs of his inner force being in chaos. Just as Kongshi was helping him up, Yan Budu let out a miserable scream. His inner force exploded recklessly, forcing Kongshi to retreat.

Kongshi finally showed a different expression. “Patron, what is…?”

“Congratulations, monk, congratulations.” Yan Budu’s tone turned eerie and sarcastic. “No matter what happens this time, you’ll have to carry a dead person out of this mountain. How convenient, cough, it is.”

“Last day, isn’t it…? Tomorrow, you and I will be opponents again, so you won’t have to… you won’t have to lay a finger on me.”

Yan Budu’s eyes were bloodshot, and his red pupils resembled flames from the depths of hell, revealing a hint of desperate madness.

“I should have… should have killed you long ago… but it’s a pity that someone like you won’t accompany me… accompany me to hell…”

After uttering those fierce words, he seemed to have emptied himself. Then, Yan Budu despairingly clawed at the ground with his nails. His voice was so low that it couldn’t be heard. Kongshi approached and barely made out a few muffled “why” and “on what grounds”.

Kongshi let out a soft sigh.

The monk pried open Yan Budu’s hands and carefully bandaged his wounds. He wiped away the blood from his mouth and nose with gentle movements as always.

But in the end, disregarding Yan Budu’s struggles, Kongshi forcibly took his pulse.

“A few days ago, this humble monk saw some good medicine. If it can be collected in time, it should be able to keep you alive.”

“Pointless…”

“Today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow. A patient is a patient, and an opponent is an opponent.” Kongshi lowered his gaze. His voice was clear and unobstructed. “It would be best if you didn’t move recklessly and wait for my return.”

In the midst of intense pain, Yan Budu suddenly revealed a smile stained with blood.

“Venerable is so attentive—could it be that you’ve taken a liking to me… If you don’t mind these threads of blood, I can play with you, Venerable… Even in death, it’s still a romantic affair*…”

*To die under the peony. It’s a saying historically used by men to express their admiration for women (like it’s romantic to die under such a beauty (the peony)).

“If a few words from Patron were enough for this humble monk to be drawn to the mortal world, then this humble monk would have been troubled long ago.”

After speaking, the tattered monk’s robe fluttered through the air. Kongshi carried the stone sword on his back, standing tall and resolute, stepping into the wind and snow without hesitation.

Yan Budu leaned against the stone wall, watching Kongshi’s figure with a gaze too complex to put into words.

Before long, his strength finally gave out, and he fell into a deep slumber.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Sendoff Ch56

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 56: Chess Game

Yan Budu, having been acupointed, couldn’t move anymore, so he simply closed his eyes and dozed off. Kongshi continued chanting scriptures for an hour before falling asleep while still seated.

The storm outside had calmed down slightly, and the cave fell into silence with only the crackling sound of the flames.

Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci, immersed in their own state of mind, didn’t truly feel sleepy. The two main characters in the memories fell into silence, once again having nothing to do.

After a while of silence, Shi Jingzhi stood up on his own, ran over to Yan Budu, and tried to snatch Yan Budu’s red jade smoking pipe like pulling a radish. However, the smoking pipe seemed to be stuck in the air, and he couldn’t even move the tassel.

“In this state of mind, everything can be touched, but the state cannot be changed.” Yin Ci looked at Shi Jingzhi’s frustrated expression and added considerately.

“Ah, I saw that the smoking pipe had a soft fish demon eye attached to it and wanted to take a closer look.”

“No wonder the scenery here is so complete.” Yin Ci smiled.

A soft fish demon eye… This fox’s eyes were still as sharp as ever.

Soft fish demons were rare, and their fish skin could be made into “character cloths” to transmit information. The pair of fish eyes were interconnected, allowing storage and transmission of scenes. However, the process was extremely complicated and tedious, and only someone like Yan Budu, with extravagant desires, would use it as a pendant on a smoking pipe.

It seemed that Yan Budu used the demon eyes to record the surrounding scenes at all times. Whether for analyzing enemies or reminiscing about amorous encounters, he could retrieve the images afterwards, making it very convenient.

If Kongshi had given in to Yan Budu just now, with Yan Budu’s arrogant attitude, once they left this place, he would have immediately sent the footage to the entire Jianchen Temple for appreciation.

Shi Jingzhi seemed to have thought of the same thing, and his face wrinkled slowly.

He tried to pulse Yan Budu, but images were just images, and he couldn’t make out anything. Yin Ci watched as his master paced restlessly for a while before obediently returning back to his side.

“This is just a state of mind. How can even temperature sensations be restored.” Shi Jingzhi sat down cross-legged beside Yin Ci. “A’Ci, do you want to take a nap? Even if your body isn’t tired, it can help pass the time.”

Yin Ci shook his head. “If you want to sleep, then sleep.”

Shi Jingzhi didn’t move, he just gazed at Yin Ci by the flickering firelight.

As if he wanted to engrave him in his heart with his eyes.

“From the first encounter with the Chigou Sect assassin, to the Ghost Tomb, Yuanxian Village, and now… A’Ci, you seem to fear nothing and know everything.”

Yin Ci regarded it as another attempt to probe him. “What about it?”

“It’s really good to have you by my side. I feel very at ease. If I had fallen into this place alone, I would definitely be completely lost and scared to death.” Shi Jingzhi didn’t ask any further and just expressed his feelings.

He no longer referred to himself as “Master*”, and his tone was calm and sincere.

*Clarity: Previously, Shi Jingzhi would refer to himself as Weishi or Shifu (depending on context) but is no longer using those titles.

Yin Ci silently looked back at him.

Shi Jingzhi rubbed his hands together and smiled. “At first, I thought you were just an ordinary villager, and then I thought you were a skilled person with a hidden identity…”

“Now what?”

“A’Ci has a decent appearance and a temperament that suits him perfectly… Are you an immortal who has come to accompany me on my final journey?”

Shi Jingzhi didn’t look at Yin Ci, but instead gazed at the snowstorm outside the cave. The flames cast an orange glow on the rocky walls. They were immersed in a long-gone era, completely detached from the mortal world, with only the two of them in boundless solitude.

In a place like this, neither gods nor Buddhas could be seen. It felt like they could say anything, and all desires could be understood.

Yin Ci: “Shizun, you are just physically weak, and your mind has become confused.”

“But I have never felt so at peace.”

“Aren’t you afraid that I have ulterior motives?”

Shi Jingzhi laughed heartily, which was an uncommon sight. “The Buddha Heart Formation has awakened me. Besides my own life, I have nothing else to offer. What can you possibly gain from me?”

Yin Ci fell silent.

Looking at the smiling face of this person, he had a fleeting thought of wanting to escape. There was more than one person in the world who could use yang fire, and there were others who sought the Shirou, not just Shi Jingzhi.

He wasn’t bound to him.

It was the opposite of Shi Jingzhi. As time passed, Yin Ci felt as if he had drawn the worst lot. There was a moment when he suddenly understood the helplessness of Yan Budu when faced with Kongshi.

If Shi Jingzhi were an ordinary person, he could have observed coldly, using him mercilessly until the end. But Shi Jingzhi wasn’t an ordinary person.

How many years of waiting was his remaining year of life worth? How long could his sanity hold on for that fleeting glimpse of radiance under the setting sun?

Would he give up using this person for the sake of that tiny warmth of vitality?

…It truly gave him a headache.

Yin Ci reached out his hand and gently placed it on Shi Jingzhi’s head. The latter trembled, almost blurting out “no sense of propriety”, but managed to hold it in at the last moment.

In his state of mind, this person was also warm and tender. Yin Ci couldn’t help but lower his gaze—Shi Jingzhi hadn’t realized until now, when they were so close, who was borrowing whose body heat.

‘Very well,’ Yin Ci thought. ‘Let’s take it one step at a time. There’s still a long road ahead.’

However, before he made a final decision, if this person wanted to sincerely exchange hearts, he would give a few points in return. It wasn’t impossible.

“Nothing at all? Shizun, that’s not true.” Yin Ci breathed a sigh of relief, and his tone became relaxed but not frivolous. “This disciple can still gain something from you.”

Shi Jingzhi choked for a moment and playfully tapped the back of Yin Ci’s head. “Have you been possessed by Yan Budu? Nonsense is pouring out of your mouth.”

In the next moment, both of them burst into laughter. Shi Jingzhi lay down again, resting his head on Yin Ci’s leg, and his long hair flowed like running water, spreading across the ground. This time, he didn’t fall asleep. His amber eyes remained clear and transparent. “Since we can’t sleep, let’s chat. Last time, I told you so many stories. This time, it’s your turn, A’Ci… As a knowledgeable disciple, you must have many tales.”

As he said the latter half, he adopted a playful tone, unable to contain the laughter in his voice.

Yin Ci narrowed his eyes at him. “Shizun, I am particularly good at ghost stories. The atmosphere is perfect right now. Do you want me to tell you a few to pass the time?”

Shi Jingzhi: “…”

Shi Jingzhi: “Dear disciple, spare me, please.”

As a result, Yin Ci still couldn’t manage to tell ghost stories to Shi Jingzhi. They chatted, sometimes with purpose and sometimes aimlessly, and they comfortably passed the night without any guard.

Morning arrived, and the blizzard continued. The second day began with Yan Budu’s cordial greeting—

“Venerable, I really love this face of yours. I really want to find an excuse to peel it off and put it in my immortal tomb.”

Kongshi was carefully slicing mushrooms. “Your praise is excessive, Patron.”

After cooking mushroom and vegetable porridge, Kongshi removed Yan Budu’s acupoint restraint and pushed the first bowl of porridge toward him.

Yan Budu picked up the bowl of porridge, smiling like a poisonous flower. “Speaking of bald-headed monks, I’ve killed nearly a hundred of them. Some ‘eminent monks’ would weep bitterly on their deathbeds and even be willing to lick the soles of my boots, just to beg for their lives. Kongshi, those monks who died so tragically would be so disappointed if they saw how you behave.”

Kongshi smiled kindly, without a trace of anger in his eyes. “Patron, is one bowl not enough?”

Yan Budu: “…” He silently pushed the empty bowl back, starting to suspect that this monk had a problem with his ears.w

However, he never gave up easily. After finishing the meal, Yan Budu once again provoked Kongshi. He roasted his damp boots and pressed his bare feet against the monk’s chest. “Bald donkey, stop chanting scriptures and play chess with me.”

Kongshi raised his eyes.

Yan Budu twirled his red jade smoking pipe, dispersing his true qi. He carved a chessboard on the hard rock, then enveloped his true qi around scattered gravel, rolling them around randomly. When they stopped, they had formed perfectly round game pieces.

With a flick of his sleeve, Yan Budu brought the stone chessboard to the center of them, and the stone pieces were divided into two piles. Yan Budu made a cut on his injured arm, and fresh blood flowed out, staining his nearby pieces a dark red.

Dark red against ash gray—a clear contrast between white and black.

Yan Budu licked his wound and lightly kicked Kongshi. “Everything is ready. Let’s play chess.”

Kongshi grasped Yan Budu’s ankle and pushed his leg away. “Very well.”

Yan Budu’s smile became even brighter. “Since we’re discussing victory and defeat, why not make a little wager? How about this, after each game, the loser cuts off a finger. Plain porridge makes one’s mouth taste bland, but adding some meat wouldn’t be bad.”

With this proposal, there was no room for negotiation. Kongshi sighed and ignored him.

Seeing the excitement, Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci joined them and took their seats in front of the chessboard. Little did they know that within half an hour, this game of chess would turn into a game where one person tormented three others.

It was because Kongshi made his moves extremely slowly. It was so slow that, in comparison, even his chanting of scriptures seemed passionate and thrilling.

Yan Budu himself initiated the game, so even if he had to grit his teeth, he had to finish it. In order to undermine Kongshi’s authority, even if he felt drowsy, Yan Budu still forced himself to stay alert and kept talking.

“Venerable, your moves are grand and powerful, with the strength of a thousand catties. But why is the chessboard sticky and full of greed for life and fear of death, reminding me of the time I dueled with Su Zhi?”

Yin Ci: “…”

A hundred years ago, although they were evenly matched, he really didn’t want to let go and fight Yan Budu. It wasn’t that he feared for his own life—it was because if Yan Budu discovered his immortality, it would bring about endless troubles.

However, with Shi Jingzhi listening on the side, even if he was completely clueless, Yin Ci felt a subtle sense of embarrassment.

Fortunately, Kongshi saw through the situation. “Perhaps Patriarch Su simply doesn’t want to deal with you and is showing you the way out.”

Yan Budu: “How do you know?”

Kongshi smiled gently. “Empathy, treating others as oneself.”

“Indeed, in that case, I will say a little more.” Yan Budu sneered, but before he could continue, he coughed up another mouthful of blood.

Kongshi, holding the chess piece, paused in mid-air. “Would the Patron like me to diagnose your condition?”

“No need. I have seen all the famous doctors in the world. Since childhood, I have had strange illnesses that no one can cure… Except for the horrifying blood vomiting, nothing else matters.”

Yan Budu’s face turned pale, his lips stained with blood, and his appearance was extremely enchanting, causing people to involuntarily avert their gaze.

However, Kongshi fixedly stared at him, as if looking at a wounded deer or an elderly person coughing up blood.

“Amitabha.” After a while, Kongshi shifted his gaze away and made another move.

Yan Budu wiped away the fresh blood and laughed. “Compared to my own illness, you should be more concerned about something else—your intention to bring me back to the Jianchen Temple and keep me imprisoned for a lifetime. Unfortunately, in case I fail to achieve immortality, my life is already coming to an end. It’s a pity that you are trapped in the wind and snow, mired in the mud, all for nothing.”

“Even if Patron can only live for one more day in the dungeon, the victims can witness Patron’s fate with their own eyes, and the rest of your life won’t be tormented by inner demons.” Kongshi joined his palms together.

“Victims? Monk, do you know why I spent ten years building the Ghost Tomb, yet the righteous path only recently started to besiege my sect?”

Yan Budu’s smile grew increasingly intense.

“It all started with ten taels of silver. I discovered that with just ten taels of silver, I could buy a person’s life—some were willing to sell their family members to me, some were willing to sell themselves for the sake of their families, and there were even those who wailed and fought for the dead, but once they received the silver, they fell silent. Later, the prices varied for different people, but the willingness to fight and endure remained the same.”

“The closure of the Ghost Tomb involved too many people, with a lot of troublemakers. You all barely managed to come up with the label of ‘tyrannical and ruthless’ to settle old scores.”

Kongshi remained silent.

“People are born with inherent differences in quality; it’s fate. Most people in the world are as foolish as pigs and as simple-minded as dogs. The lives of animals are cheap, so if I want to kill them, I kill them. It’s just following the will of heaven.”

Kongshi raised his eyes. “Inherent differences in quality? Children are naive, the elderly are confused, yet they live longer than you, Patron. Why do you only mention one aspect and not the other?”

The monk’s tone was gentle, as always.

“Furthermore, sheep eat grass, and tigers eat sheep. When a fierce tiger meets its end, its corpse is devoured by the grass. The cycle of karma is the way of heaven. Patron, you are also among sentient beings. There is no need to belittle them so lightly.”

Yan Budu raised an eyebrow. “It’s only natural for tigers to eat sheep, so what crime have I committed by killing children and women?”

The monk’s eyelids remained motionless. “If Patron deems yourself innocent, then you are innocent.”

“I thought I was going crazy, but you, baldy, are even crazier than me.”

“The burden of guilt is in the mind of Buddha; one can only reflect on oneself. However, regardless of Patron’s thoughts, being able to play against me here has its causes and consequences, and the retribution isn’t pleasant.”

Kongshi pointed to his giant sword and smiled even more calmly.

“Patron sees sentient beings as pigs and dogs. From what I see, Patron is no different from pigs and dogs, and can hardly be considered worse than them.”

Yan Budu: “……”

Suddenly, Shi Jingzhi flinched, and Yin Ci turned his head. “What’s wrong?”

“A’Ci, Venerable Kongshi isn’t just making empty remarks. He truly believes in what he said.”

Yin Ci furrowed his brow—if Shi Jingzhi could see it, then Yan Budu would definitely see it as well. In a sense, the compassion of sentient beings was also a form of ruthlessness.

Yan Budu’s plan to disrupt the monk’s chess game with his menacing aura seemed to be falling flat.

As expected, Kongshi calmly placed a chess piece on the board. “The cycle of three calamities. Will Patron give up the struggle of the calamities*?”

*Clarity: There’s a double meaning here. Note while it’s translated as chess, they are actually playing Go. In the case of a three calamities, it is referring to a triple ko where it’s basically a draw. Theoretically, when a situation like this happens, the game can continue forever, endlessly in a cycle. Applying this to Buddhism, it refers to the three calamities sentient beings undergo through their existence (basically the cycle of life). You can read more about it in my Kinky Thoughts. || In this context, Kongshi has set the board to be a draw, creating a triple ko, and asking Yan Budu, are you giving up (both in the game and spiritually as applied to Buddhist theory).

Yan Budu remained silent, neither uttering a word nor showing any signs of anger, as if he were calculating something.

Seeing that the opponent didn’t respond, Kongshi stopped playing. “Then let’s call it a draw. We’ll play again another day.”

Finally, Yan Budu slowly lifted his head, and his pair of crimson eyes seemed to ignite. He stared fixedly at Kongshi, and a twisted smile gradually appeared on his face.

“Interesting. I must defeat you once. Monk, I have decided to claim your head.”

Kongshi replied politely, “This humble monk needs to keep his head for chanting scriptures. I apologize for not being able to offer it to you.”

After that, Yan Budu refrained from making any comments about the past. For some reason, the Demonic Lord intentionally restrained himself, and from the way he treated Kongshi, he even seemed somewhat normal.

In the following days, whenever they had free time, the two of them would play chess while discussing the situation of the martial arts world and analyzing various techniques. Surprisingly, their conversations flowed smoothly and harmoniously.

However, in every game during those few days, the monk’s chess speed was as slow as a snail, yet he managed to create various extraordinary situations. They played strange and peculiar tactics, and neither of them held back.

But Yan Budu didn’t show any signs of frustration; instead, he appeared to be quite enjoying himself.

As time passed, Yan Budu’s injured arm gradually recovered. One night, he proposed an idea that invigorated the spirits of the Kushan Sect master and disciple. “Kongshi, I’ll accompany you outside tonight. I need to get some meat. I’ve been eating porridge for so long, and my wounds are healing too slowly.”

“Your injuries haven’t fully healed, Patron.”

“No choice then. Since you won’t cut off your arm to feed me,” Yan Budu joked.

“Patron, offering oneself to feed a tiger is only done for a female tiger with cubs*. We, as Buddhist monks, don’t feed tigers at will.”

*It comes from a story in the Sutra of the Wise and the Fool which you can read in my Kinky Thoughts. In this context, he’s saying one doesn’t offer to sacrifice oneself (feed a tiger) unless there’s a proper justification (female tiger with cubs). The TLDR of the story is: A prince saw a tigress who was starving to the point of death and had cubs. He decided to sacrifice himself in order to feed her and her cubs. 

“So I can only hunt for food myself. It’s truly lamentable.”

When they were about to leave, Shi Jingzhi’s whole being was radiant. However, after he pulled Yin Ci along and followed, his enthusiasm couldn’t withstand the cold for more than the time it took to burn three incense sticks. Outside the cave was even colder than inside. Although the snow had stopped, everything was still covered in a vast expanse of white, lacking magnificent scenery. The wind carried snowflakes that slapped against their faces, and Shi Jingzhi was immediately chilled to the bone.

“Yan Budu is really… Last time, I made a mistake while cultivating my kung fu and suffered inner force obstruction. When the cold wind blew, I coughed up blood and couldn’t sleep.”

Shi Jingzhi shrank his neck, feeling a sense of sorrow.

“He wants to eat meat, I understand, but is he really in such a hurry?” Yin Ci tightly grasped Shi Jingzhi’s wrist, but his gaze never left Yan Budu.

Shi Jingzhi suddenly realized and immediately took in a breath of cold air.

Yan Budu wasn’t just playing chess in the cave; his real-life chess game had also begun. Wrapped in a fox fur coat, he stared intently at Kongshi, who was using the Nightmare Breaking Technique to break through the illusions. Even though the cold wind was cutting, he didn’t even blink his eyes.

Yan Budu was secretly learning the Nightmare Breaking Technique.

It was too similar. Yin Ci looked at Shi Jingzhi beside him, who was completely focused and absorbed in the Nightmare Breaking Technique. Their expressions were so alike, reminiscent of the time when Shi Jingzhi secretly learned the Green Maiden Sword Technique beneath the Ghost Tomb.

…It was truly uncanny.

Whether it was the symptoms, aptitude, or the resentment towards all living beings, they were strikingly similar, almost too coincidental. Yin Ci had walked the world for hundreds of years without experiencing reincarnation. So there’s only one possibility.

In this world, there was something he had yet to discover.

Yan Budu and Shi Jingzhi undoubtedly belong to some kind of similar existence.

Kongshi formed an invisible formation, using true qi instead of a copper hammer and iron bowl to activate the formation. Even though the blizzard was obscuring their surroundings, the monk swiftly turned. Even though the inner force movements were extremely complex, his coordinated hand movements were incredibly exquisite. After a dazzling display of the Nightmare Breaking Technique that left people dazzled, Yan Budu’s mouth slowly curled into a smile.

He had learned it.

And the sole reason Yan Budu kept Kongshi around was for the Nightmare Breaking Technique.

To him, Kongshi was no longer useful.


The author has something to say:

Surprise! The leader of the Ling Sect actually carries a camera with him.

…But without a camera, we would have to switch to a first-person perspective. In fact, when I imagined Shi Jingzhi’s annoyed face, I had images of a subway, a fox, and a smartphone in my mind.jpg

————————————

Demonic Lord Yin: The fox has softened, and my heart has softened too. Well, let’s avoid it for a while (?

Fox Shi: The plan is a go (×


Kinky Thoughts:

In Buddhist philosophy, the three cycles of calamities refer to the belief that sentient beings are bound to undergo three major calamities or sufferings throughout their existence. These three calamities are birth, aging, and death.

  1. The first calamity is birth, which represents the suffering and struggles associated with entering into the cycle of existence and being subject to various worldly afflictions.
  2. The second calamity is aging, symbolizing the physical and mental deterioration that occurs as beings grow older. It encompasses the gradual decay of the body, the decline of faculties, and the experience of suffering and limitations that come with aging.
  3. The third calamity is death, representing the finality and inevitability of mortality. It signifies the end of an individual’s current existence and the subsequent transition to another state, be it rebirth or liberation.

The concept of the “cycle of three calamities” reflects the Buddhist understanding of life’s inherent sufferings and the impermanence of existence. It highlights the fundamental truths of impermanence, suffering, and the need to seek liberation from the cycle of birth and death through spiritual practice and enlightenment.

What Kongshi did (quite brilliantly) was set up the game as a triple ko to show Yan Budu this figuratively and literally (in the game).

————

The story of feeding a tiger from The Sutra of the Wise and the Fool.

In the Buddhist scriptures, it is said that there were three princes in the king’s chariot of the Kingdom of Bo Deng in India. One day, they went hunting together in the mountains and saw a mother tiger with several hungry tiger cubs. The mother tiger was so famished that she wanted to eat the tiger cubs. The third prince, Sariputra, saw this and sent away his two elder brothers. He went to the mountain and laid down in front of the mother tiger, but the hungry tiger had no strength to eat him.

Sariputra then climbed up a hill, injured his body with a sharp stick, and jumped off a cliff, allowing the mother tiger to drink his blood. After drinking the blood, the mother tiger regained her strength and, along with her cubs, ate up all the flesh from Sariputra’s body.

The two elder brothers couldn’t find their younger brother and searched along the way until they finally found Sariputra’s remains. They quickly returned to the palace to inform the king. The king and the queen rushed to the mountains, embraced Sariputra’s remains, and wept bitterly.

They then gathered the remains and built a stupa for worship. Sariputra, who willingly sacrificed his own physical body to save the life of the tiger, is the previous incarnation of the Buddha Shakyamuni.

Depictions of such acts of enduring humiliation, self-sacrifice, and various virtuous deeds from the previous lives of Shakyamuni Buddha are known as Jataka tales.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Criminal Psychology Ch253

Author: 长洱 / Chang’er

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 253

The Chairman was slightly overweight, wearing a dark golden tie and meticulously styled hair. His speech was full of reason and emotion, which made him appear persuasive.

Every word he spoke seemed reasonable and heartfelt, but Huang Ze felt nauseated.

However, after that, Xing Conglian uttered only one word, with a very short tone.

He said, “Oh.”

Huang Ze was stunned, as were the Chairman, and all the employees present.

Xing Conglian remained calm and confident, overlooking the struggling ants at his feet without needing to make any unnecessary reactions.

The Chairman stood awkwardly in place. After a brief moment of silence, the Chairman extended his hand, revealing his wristwatch, and said with righteousness, “Captain Xing, please handcuff me.”

The entire room fell silent. Zhourui’s employees sat down, each harboring their own intentions, all looking at Xing Conglian, waiting for his response.

The current situation seemed to have turned into a competition of who could say the right words and gain the trust of the employees, as whoever succeeded would emerge victorious.

However, Xing Conglian had no intention of winning. He adjusted his posture, leaned forward, and looked at the police officers present. “Didn’t you hear what I said earlier?”

The police officers responsible for the arrest swiftly escorted the members of the Nao Kangning team away from their seats.

At that moment, a deep male voice cut through the chaotic atmosphere.

“Stop!”

In the corner of the room, a middle-aged man stood up. He was wearing a white lab coat with a pen tucked into his front chest pocket, displaying the demeanor of a traditional scholar. Moreover, his hair was mostly gray, which didn’t match his age.

A smile appeared on Chairman Zhou’s face as he also looked towards the source of the voice.

“Who are you?” Xing Conglian calmly asked, seemingly unsurprised that someone like Li Zheng would stand up.

“I’m Li Zheng. I led the development of Nao Kangning,” the man said seriously. “I am the head and chief engineer of the Coreda Laboratory under Zhourui.”

“Mr. Li.” Xing Conglian paused, giving him the opportunity to continue.

“If there are indeed any problems with Nao Kangning, the main culprit should be me,” Li Zheng said. “I led the development of this drug that you refer to as a psychotropic substance. It turns people into uncontrollable demons, and yet I failed to discover its strong side effects. I cannot shirk my responsibility…”

As Li Zheng spoke, he walked towards the center of the conference room and stood in the vacant seat, facing Xing Conglian. Huang Ze furrowed his brow tighter and tighter. They needed to investigate the case thoroughly, not find a scapegoat. If a second company executive voluntarily confessed, it could inadvertently turn into the police pressuring Zhourui’s employees to admit guilt, which would be very unsightly.

Xing Conglian leaned against the back of his chair, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “So what?”

“I have a question.” Li Zheng pushed his glasses up, hands in his pockets, and stared at the rotating compound on the projection screen, as if organizing his thoughts.

“I didn’t fully understand earlier. Are you saying that the substance that drives people crazy is TERN? It’s identical to it? Are you sure?”

Xing Conglian glanced at Xiao Zhan, signaling him to answer the question.

Mr. Xiao Zhan’s response was unexpected. He pointed to the 20 vacant seats, mustering his courage, and said, “I won’t speak to you while you’re standing here.”

Li Zheng didn’t expect this move. He followed Xiao Zhan’s pointing finger and looked over.

In the next moment, Li Zheng took a step forward and walked towards the 20 vacant seats, as if it was a very easy decision.

Watching Li Zheng’s figure, cracks finally appeared on Chairman Zhou’s meticulously maintained face.

The morning sun outside had fully risen, casting a brilliant path. The scientist with graying hair didn’t look back.

Sitting in the sunlight, Li Zheng first spoke to Xing Conglian. “Honestly, I don’t have any inside information to share. If it is indeed my responsibility, you don’t need to reduce my sentence. I’m sitting here because I want to figure out what’s going on.”

Xing Conglian looked at him and nodded in agreement.

The slightly overweight Chairman clenched his teeth and restrained himself as best he could.

“Chairman Zhou, I’ll just sit for a while. Once I understand the issue, I’ll come back. You can take a seat for now.” Li Zheng realized this and politely addressed his boss before finally turning to Xiao Zhan. “Can you answer my earlier question now?”

“I’m certain. The two compounds do indeed have exactly the same structural formula,” Mr. Xiao Zhan said.

A faint worry finally appeared on Li Zheng’s previously calm face. He pondered for a moment and said, “But I am equally certain that in numerous clinical trials, TERN itself didn’t have such powerful toxic side effects. How is this possible?”

“I… I don’t know… but that’s what the analysis results showed.” Xiao Zhan became hesitant again, as it was part of his nature.

“Speaking of which, there are so many types of problematic drugs, involving hundreds and thousands of compounds. Why did you specifically compare it to TERN?”

“Well, it’s the result of deduction,” Xiao Zhan felt somewhat embarrassed, as if he had copied the answer in advance. “From comparing the old and new components of Nordren and Nao Kangning, I found that you had exclusively modified TERN, so I thought the problem lay here.”

Xiao Zhan’s voice was soft and timid, but the accusation in that statement was clear and severe, sending shivers down people’s spines.

Li Zheng remained silent for a long time. Fear and anxiety filled his expression as he looked at the many people in front of him—his colleagues, superiors, and, of course, his boss. The scientist’s hand, resting on the table, tightly clenched into a fist, as if considering countless possibilities to absolve his company, but ultimately defeated by this simple and straightforward statement.

He finally turned to his own boss and asked, “Didn’t you say that the so-called drug problem in the news was Shen Lian poisoning our company’s medication during the production process?”

“The internal investigation results of the company do confirm that,” Chairman Zhou replied.

“But how did you find out about Shen Lian’s involvement in the poisoning so quickly?” Li Zheng persisted in a posture as if he were the true presiding judge.

Xing Conglian had been listening with his arms crossed the whole time, remaining quiet.

“We have already submitted the relevant information to the police. Whether we can disclose it publicly in such a setting still requires the approval of the police,” the chairman humbly responded.

“That’s fine,” Xing Conglian said.

Chairman Zhou took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “Dr. Tan Kang has a smart pen that automatically records writing data and converts it into electronic documents. After his death, his notebook was stolen, but we found that pen. It recorded his suspicions of Shen Lian’s poisoning. Afterward, our company conducted an internal investigation. The surveillance records from the day before Dr. Tan Kang’s death were erased, but we managed to restore all the entry and exit surveillance records, which revealed Shen Lian’s presence. Finally, we submitted this as evidence to the police and issued a public warning.”

Chairman Zhou deliberately emphasized that the final document was a converted electronic document, not handwritten. In other words, the content of the document was actually very easy to forge. This line of reasoning had likely been nested repeatedly within the upper levels of Zhourui, even among the staff, and had been confirmed before being presented.

Wang Chao kept his head lowered, apparently not finding any issues in the statement.

Li Zheng took a pen out of his pocket and casually grabbed a shopping receipt, writing and doodling on the back. Finally, he tapped the table, saying, “Since TERN has a problem, let’s reverse engineer it in three stages. The first stage is the safety period when Nao Kangning was approved for clinical trials and market release; the second stage is a blank period, which involves tracking the repeated clinical data; the third stage is the Nordren modification phase. Chairman, please tell me. Why did you change the structural formula of TERN in the new drug Nordren?”

“That was Dr. Tan Kang’s suggestion.” Chairman Zhou paused, then said, “You are the pharmaceutical experts I rely on, while I am merely a manager. You can find out the purpose behind changing the structural formula of TERN by looking through the reports. I am only responsible for signing off.”

Chairman Zhou’s attitude was sincere and quite convincing, shifting the blame to the late Dr. Tan Kang. Although it seemed suspicious, no one could point out any problems with this.

“Does anyone on the Tan Kang team know about it?” Li Zheng tapped the table and looked at the crowded seats across from him. “Xiao Chen, you were part of my team and later went to Tan Kang’s team. Speak up.”

Li Zheng now completely resembled a meeting in the laboratory or a mentor guiding students, casually singling out people.

The researcher who was called upon stood up, looking very awkward. “Professor Li, what do you want me to say?”

“Just speak freely. Tan Kang discovered that there was a problem with the medication I supervised the development of, and they adjusted the TERN structural formula. Although the internal research and development progress of the team was kept confidential, there should have been discussions internally. There must be meeting records of when and why the change was made, right?”

“Dr. Tan Kang did independently propose changing the structural formula of TERN, but I don’t remember the specific reasons. However, all the meeting records and project progress copies were taken by the police yesterday,” Xiao Chen answered.

Li Zheng looked at Mr. Xiao Zhan and asked, “So all the information is with you. Have you sorted through it?”

“The reason was improvement,” Mr. Xiao Zhan replied.

“It’s too abrupt.” Li Zheng frowned and contemplated. “Is there a specific time frame?”

Mr. Xiao Zhan said, “I had the same thought and summarized it yesterday.”

Wang Chao opened a new document, and a clear timeline appeared on the screen.

2011.1 Nao Kangning improvement project initiated

2011.6 New ingredient introduced

2012.2 TERN structural formula modified

2012.3 Entered animal experimentation phase

2013.2 Entered clinical trials

2016.2 Completion of three-year monitoring period for the improved drug, entered approval process

2016.10 Obtained approval and market authorization

“After the modification of the TERN structural formula, animal experiments were immediately conducted?” Li Zheng pressed his lips together. “That’s too fast. Was Tan Kang so confident?”

Everyone present was an industry professional, and this timeline, clearly summarized by Mr. Xiao Zhan, finally sparked low murmurs and discussions throughout the room.

“The purpose is too specific,” someone said.

“The approval process followed the procedure for modified drugs, so no wonder it was so fast…” someone else commented.

But finally, someone asked the most crucial question, “Why was this project suddenly initiated?”

As soon as this question was raised, the noisy conference room fell silent once again, and everyone looked at Chairman Zhou, who had a firm grasp of the situation.

Chairman Zhou had endured until now and had to continue to endure. He tapped his head and suddenly realized. “If that’s the case, could Tan Kang be an accomplice of Shen Lian? They conspired together, and Shen Lian killing Tan Kang was an internal conflict?”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Criminal Psychology Ch252

Author: 长洱 / Chang’er

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 252

The wait was excruciating. Time ticked away, but the doors of the conference room remained unopened, and Xing Conglian was nowhere to be seen.

Most of the people grew restless once again. A mixture of annoyance and unease started to rise. Zhourui Pharmaceutical had already gained the upper hand by pinning everything on Xing Conglian, so why were they still so anxious?

Huang Ze sneered, and at that moment, his phone vibrated lightly. Su Fengzi, who seemingly hadn’t been asleep at all, acted swiftly, checked his phone, and then stood up before everyone else. He said to everyone in the conference room, “Let’s go. He’s waiting for us in Room 303.”

……

Room 303 was another conference room.

The reason for moving the Zhourui executives from one conference room to another was simple—room 303 downstairs was larger and could accommodate more people.

Reluctantly, Huang Ze led the Zhourui executives downstairs. Along the way, he had to use some means to suppress the dissenters, but when they pushed open the door, everyone inside and outside froze in shock for a few seconds.

The office was packed with people. Xing Conglian had managed to gather almost all the mid-level and higher-level management personnel of the company, including a few elderly individuals with snow-white hair. Huang Ze recognized one of them as a renowned chemist who oversaw one of Zhourui’s pharmaceutical laboratories.

Everyone in their seats looked at each other, unable to comprehend the situation. Finally, Xing Conglian’s voice broke the frozen state.

He sat at the head of the table, pointing to the empty seats and saying to everyone outside the room, “Come in.”

Huang Ze took the first step, noticing that Xing Conglian’s tone was the same as when Su Fengzhi said “let’s go”—casual and self-assured, as if victory was already in his grasp.

Huang Ze surveyed the entire room.

Room 303 was filled with many people, and all the seats were occupied. The conference table was split, with chairs featuring deep blue cushioned backs facing each other, resembling a courtroom. However, the number of seats on each side was unequal. The left side of the conference room was crowded with nearly one hundred and eighty chairs, while the other side had…

Huang Ze quickly counted. The right side had only twenty chairs.

He looked toward the end of the conference room. Xing Conglian’s assistant had set up a table in the upper left corner of the room, and both Xing Conglian and Xiao Zhan sat in front of their computers, resembling court clerks. Xing Conglian himself was the presiding judge of this courtroom.

Huang Ze couldn’t understand what Xing Conglian was up to, but that didn’t prevent him from glancing coldly at his Uncle Shi.

As the middle-aged man entered the conference room, everyone who had been whispering among themselves in their seats stood up simultaneously, showing a respectful demeanor. This simple gesture revealed the hierarchy within this large conference room.

And Uncle Shi seemed to enjoy this emperor-like treatment. Zhourui employees stepped aside, clearing a path for him to the center seat.

The Chairman entered slowly, and the employees on either side of him bowed respectfully. He humbly exchanged greetings with many employees, creating a friendly atmosphere as if it were an ordinary daily meeting within the company.

A group of people left the captain of the Criminal Investigation Division sitting at the head, ignored. Huang Ze glanced at Xing Conglian and noticed that he was leaning back in his chair, one hand resting on the table, in a casual posture. However, he seemed to be in a very unpleasant mood.

In that moment, Huang Ze didn’t know why he disregarded everyone else but was concerned about Xing Conglian’s expression. After all, in various respects, he was Xing Conglian’s superior.

But, to be honest, in this crowded conference room, he didn’t have much time to figure out his own mindset. Just as the middle-aged man in a suit was about to take his seat, Xing Conglian suddenly spoke up, interrupting the lively atmosphere on the left side. “I didn’t ask you to sit.”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense.

The Chairman adjusted his suit collar and didn’t show any anger. He turned his head to face Xing Conglian, slightly lowered his head, and looked down at him with a smile. He said, “Captain Xing, you seem a bit impulsive.”

However, Xing Conglian didn’t seem interested in having a good conversation with anyone from Zhourui. He didn’t even bother to look up and simply said to the hundred or so Zhourui employees standing in a line, “Anyone willing to cooperate with the police and provide evidence of your company’s deliberate concealment of the side effects of Nao Kangning and disregard for public safety can sit over there.” Xing Conglian pointed to the twenty vacant seats on the right side of the conference room and paused before adding, “There are twenty spots.”

His tone was calm, but everyone, including Huang Ze, was stunned.

Quick and direct—there were no better words to describe it.

However, the only response to Xing Conglian came in the form of the light sound of chairs being occupied. The Chairman of Zhourui Pharmaceutical took the first seat, his chair gliding across the floor, and the rest of the employees followed suit, sitting down in an orderly manner, displaying unity.

Xing Conglian appeared composed, but there was a profound coldness in his gaze. He looked at the hundred or so people on the left side of the conference room and asked, “Has the development team of ‘Nao Kangning’ all arrived?”

Xing Conglian played his cards quickly, and everyone looked at each other. The Chairman of Zhourui Pharmaceutical placed his hand on the table and lightly tapped it.

Employees scattered throughout the room raised their hands, of different ages, some even still rubbing their eyes, as if they didn’t understand why they were summoned to the scene.

“Wasn’t it a poisoning incident? The mastermind has already been caught. Why mention Nao Kangning…” someone straightforwardly asked.

Xing Conglian raised his hand to interrupt the person’s questioning and nodded at the two young individuals sitting in the role of court clerks, who appeared nervous.

Wang Chao received the signal and displayed a rotating molecular structure on the projector.

As if they had rehearsed it beforehand, Xiao Zhan recited, “Through investigation, it has been found that the substance injected by Shen Lian to Consultant Lin Chen shares consistency with the neurotoxic drug that caused the riot at the barbecue stall the previous night, namely the base component TERN in your company’s Nao Kangning.”

Xiao Zhan finished speaking in one breath, and everyone in the conference room looked in a daze at the rotating molecular structure on the screen. He cleared his throat, turned his head, and pointed at the screen, saying, “This is it.”

At that moment, Xing Conglian casually put his hand down, and the back door opened, allowing a team of police officers to enter.

“Take all those who raised their hands back to the police station, verify the list, and issue arrest warrants for those who didn’t attend.” Xing Conglian’s tone remained unchanged, as if he were describing the most ordinary thing.

As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere became intense, and many people took out their phones to take pictures. Someone even shouted loudly, “We don’t know anything. You can’t just arrest us without any reason!”

Xing Conglian had been observing coldly all this time until a member of the Nao Kangning development team solemnly said, “He doesn’t have any relevant evidence. He’s just asking us to assist in the investigation. There’s nothing to fear.”

“Let me correct you on two points.” Xing Conglian didn’t stop the arrest operation but said, “First, this is not assistance in the investigation. The detention order has already been signed by the bureau chief. Second, instead of wasting time taking photos, it would be better for you to use your phones to search for keywords and see how many casualties have been caused by the medication your team has developed up until now. I suggest you don’t take it lightly.”

This was probably the longest sentence Xing Conglian had said since entering this office. He was serious, and when someone like Xing Conglian became serious, even if his tone was calm, it carried an irresistible authority.

As he spoke, several team members were already being escorted out of their seats. Most of them looked bewildered and didn’t seem to be feigning ignorance.

“There must be some problem here. Our Nao Kangning has undergone numerous animal experiments and several years of clinical trials. Since it passed the approval of the drug regulatory authority, it means the medication is completely safe. This is impossible. It’s impossible for the composition to be exactly the same!” A woman spoke rapidly, expressing her deep concern and nervousness. She appeared to be in her forties, perhaps a mother. “And even if you want an internal investigation, you need to give us some time!”

Upon hearing this, everyone in the team nodded in agreement, still holding onto a glimmer of hope.

“I’m afraid you haven’t understood the current situation,” Xing Conglian interrupted all protests once again. “I will reiterate: among you, some have known or heard about adverse reactions related to Nao Kangning, reported responsibly to their superiors, but received no response. Or some of you have received inquiries about the medication but couldn’t draw any conclusions and were required to keep it confidential. If any of these circumstances apply to you, you can choose to sit over there.” Xing Conglian finally revealed the truth about the twenty vacant seats. “The prosecution offers an opportunity for reduced punishment for the twenty individuals responsible for the related incidents. You all know how severe the impact of this event is. Following the precedent of cases of adverse reactions to vaccines, I guarantee that those responsible for the incidents will be sentenced to a minimum of three years in prison, not to mention the prohibition of employment. Are you all willing to jeopardize your livelihoods by sinking with this pharmaceutical company?”

Huang Ze suddenly looked up. He had thought Xing Conglian was genuinely investigating the case, but he hadn’t expected it to be a direct retaliation against Zhourui Pharmaceutical.

Starting from the bottom and toppling the top, Xing Conglian’s strategy couldn’t be clearer.

All the employees present began to look around, some focusing solely on themselves, others feigning indifference while keeping a close eye on their own thoughts. Some whispered to each other and secretly observed the twenty vacant seats. Each person had their own thoughts, contemplating and making judgments. In a subtle manner, Xing Conglian managed to unsettle the seemingly united employees.

Now, all that was left was for a leader to stand up, and the facade of false unity would crumble.

Huang Ze shifted his gaze to his Uncle Shi, knowing that his uncle wouldn’t let Xing Conglian have his way.

After contemplating for a few seconds, the ultimate decision-maker of the company finally spoke up, “Captain Xing, are you trying to incite our company’s employees to expose their superiors?”

Xing Conglian showed no intention of responding and simply leaned against the back of his chair, watching the Chairman.

His attitude was both unreasonable and arrogant, ultimately making everyone extremely uncomfortable.

However, in front of all the elite employees of the company, the Chairman of Zhourui showcased excellent acting skills. He let out a long sigh, stood up, and looked at Xing Conglian. “Since we have reached the point of whistleblowing, in the end, it is I who bears the responsibility. Captain Xing, just take me into custody directly and spare the others from any trouble.” The Chairman paused, then turned to address all the employees. “During our time working together at Zhourui, I want to express my gratitude for the dedication and hard work you have shown for the company, striving to overcome human diseases through research. I believe that none of you would turn a blind eye to the side effects of Nao Kangning. But I trust in all of you, while the police may not trust, or rather, cannot trust, because they need someone to hold responsible, and that someone can only be me. I have one request for all of you: please refrain from unnecessary infighting and damaging the relationships between colleagues and yourselves.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Evil As Humans Ch210

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 210: Visitors

While Yin Ren wandered outside and Zhong Chengshuo was consulting psychologist Qi Xin, the other people in the white room naturally couldn’t stay quiet.

After practicing continuously for several hours in the room, everyone could subconsciously imagine its existence and then had the freedom to move around comfortably. Fu Tianyi held Dr. Cat while everyone else gathered around him.

When the environmental pressure was high, having a soft and fluffy cat curled up in one’s arms was also a way to relax. Since this cat was their colleague and the most educated creature present, everyone could only watch attentively and dare not touch it.

“How did you come in?” Lu Xiaohe approached, her eyes fixed on her colleague’s fluffy tail.

“When the emergency situation was approved, you all were already rushing in.”

Qi Xin’s authority still held sway, and the black cat, unusually, didn’t show any strange behavior.

“While Qi Xin was holding the entrance, I jumped in by myself.”

“Emergency situation?”

As teammates, Fu Tianyi stroked the warm cat fur. Under normal circumstances, Dr. Cat would definitely swipe at him, but now it lay with its ears flattened, behaving obediently.

“Things have been unstable recently. The leaders of Yandu and Linnan haven’t left, so I’ve been staying at the Municipal Hospital…”

The inpatient department of the hospital was relatively quiet, and the garden was nice. Whenever Dr. Cat wanted to think quietly, it would always stroll around nearby.

“Recently, I’ve been considering matters related to the Primordial Elementals. Thanks to this kid Fu Tianyi, I also obtained higher browsing privileges.”

The black cat purred and explained.

“Do you know the essence of the abilities corrupted by Evil Force?”

Everyone looked at each other. Gaining special abilities from the influence of Evil Force seemed like a natural consequence. Apart from the science post that wasn’t busy, no one would contemplate such a question.

And this scientific post was not only not busy but not even human.

“Using Zhong Chengshuo’s analogy to the internet, if the biological brain is an independent device—the ‘Ghost Eye*’ branch is a mutation of observation ability. It’s like installing Windows or Android on an Apple system, which allows it to receive and process information that it couldn’t handle before.”

*Sixth sense, (or the ability to see ghosts).

“This is the most common corruption type caused by Evil Force. You have obtained the outermost perception ability of the ‘Elementals’, although they are only various incomplete fragments.”

Ge Tingting couldn’t help but nod. She, Huang Jin, and Liang Shan all belonged to this type. Those who possessed the ability of the “Ghost Eye” were the most numerous. They could gain strong clairvoyance or perceive information that didn’t belong to this world.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have any combat power at all.

“The ‘Resonance’ branch that affects others’ emotions and the ‘Obstacle’ branch that distorts cognition are the basic abilities of Elementals. It can be said that when organisms are corrupted, they develop superpowers. In essence, the organisms merely absorb the fragmented flesh of Elementals, gaining a diluted version of their abilities.”

“What about the ‘Infinite’ and ‘Charon’ branches?” Lu Xiaohe keenly sensed the missing pieces.

The “Infinite” branch, with its skyrocketing information processing ability, and the “Charon” branch, capable of traversing between realms, were extremely rare in numbers but also belonged to the corrupted abilities category.

“Charon is the most special one. Elementals cannot directly operate in the mortal world, just like fish can’t stroll on the road. But what if an animal that lives on land unexpectedly acquires the ability to breathe underwater?”

“…The abilities are still the same, but the adaptability of these animals surpasses that of fish.” Lu Xiaohe suddenly realized.

“Yes, that’s why Elementals dislike Charons.” Dr. Cat licked his paws. “Now, only the ‘Infinite’ branch, to which I belong, remains.”

“I know. People from the Infinite branch have particularly strong computational abilities, and their intelligence experiences great leaps,” Fu Tianyi interjected.

“The principle is simple.” Dr. Cat’s pupils narrowed into slits, and its tail swayed. “The physical structure of my brain hasn’t changed, but through this network called the Other Side, I can access other devices—meaning, I can access human brains.”

“During this process, I can retrieve or input simple information to the connected devices.”

Huang Jin was dumbfounded.

No wonder. During the previous competition, this cat could convey thoughts and calm everyone down. And now, it had never seen the white room before, yet it could still… It turned out that this cat treated its brains as mining rigs, constantly extracting bitcoins.

“Thank you for the enlightening knowledge.” Huang Jin pressed his temples, unsure if his intelligence would be reduced because of this. “So, after all these detours, what does this have to do with the ’emergency situation’ you mentioned?”

“Recently, when I was connecting, I noticed that many people’s brains were experiencing malfunctions.” Dr. Cat’s voice turned serious. “The cause is unknown, but they all see an ‘arm’ that ‘only they can see’.”

“This is different from the physical ailments and corruption caused by Evil Force that I’ve seen before. It makes me very uncomfortable. To investigate the situation, I had to come personally. I can’t rely on you people without the Infinite ability to investigate. You wouldn’t be able to see shit!”

In the end, its feline demeanor became stronger again, indicating that its spirit had recovered somewhat.

“You can look for your people, and I’ll investigate my matters. Let’s not interfere with each other.” It emphasized firmly.

“That being said, you shouldn’t wander around recklessly.” Fu Tianyi patiently held his teammate. “That Qi Xin doesn’t seem like a good-tempered person. She won’t care about your well-being. If you want to investigate, let us assist you.”

“Hmm.” When Qi Xin was mentioned, Dr. Cat’s ears pressed against its head.

With no cat to pet, Huang Jin squatted in the corner with dwindling interest, looking at Ding Lizi’s photos again.

He didn’t bother thinking about what abilities and operational issues were all about. Ding Lizi had Yin Ren, the powerful Elemental, protecting her, so she should be fine. If they could return safely this time, he would…

But in the next second, Zhong Chengshuo and Qi Xin suddenly appeared in front of him, almost stepping on him.

Huang Jin, let alone his thoughts, almost stopped breathing. His angry reprimand of “What are you doing!” got stuck in his throat, almost choking himself.

However, as he listened to their conversation, he wished he had choked for real just now—

“Let me have a taste.” Zhong Chengshuo stared at Qi Xin intently, like a person who had been hungry for three days staring at a bowl of steaming porridge. There was no familiarity, only “I need to eat.”

Ms. Qi’s expression was worse than the bottom of a pot, and if her hair hadn’t been tied up, it would probably have stood on end. “How dare you!”

With his “normal vision” suddenly restored, Huang Jin was still not accustomed to reading people’s expressions. But he could tell that this woman’s tone contained faint fear. It seemed that even if Zhong Chengshuo had lost power, his past aura of Fear still lingered.

Huang Jin slowly moved his body, trying to slowly leave the center of the storm. However, before he could move far, Zhong Chengshuo grabbed the back of his collar. “I’ll find you later.”

Damn it.

Huang Jin instantly slumped in the corner, too lazy to struggle. He couldn’t afford to offend King Yama, and the combination of Fear and King Yama was even more terrifying. He dared not defy it.

How did he let himself be blinded by money and not firmly transfer to another team?

“I only need the amount of six arms.” Zhong Chengshuo turned his head back and continued bargaining with Qi Xin. “And when I get what I want, I’ll also give you something in return.”

“Why don’t you ask Yin Ren?!”

“He wouldn’t like it.” Zhong Chengshuo fell silent for a few seconds. “And I’m not sure about the effect. This is just an experiment—now that we’re all on the Other Side, we need your protection. We won’t harm you.”

Qi Xin stared at him warily, while Zhong Chengshuo met her gaze calmly.

“…Fine.”

She squeezed out her response through her teeth.

“Just this once.”

Huang Jin had no interest in hearing any secrets or gossip about powerful Elementals. He was just about to cover his ears when the scene in front of him completely transformed into a vortex. The information overload unique to the Other Side hit him again, and Huang Jin’s brain buzzed.

But before he could imagine the white room, the scene stabilized once again—

It was a windowless, dim basement. Numerous metal cans shimmered on two rows of shelves. Various specimens were hidden deep within the shelves with their hollow eye sockets peering in all directions. A modified interrogation chair made of an armchair stood in the corner with its restraints hanging like candle tears.

It clearly wasn’t a legitimate place.

In this small basement, there were only Zhong Chengshuo, Qi Xin, and Huang Jin as living beings.

“This… This is…” Huang Jin tried to make his voice tremble less.

He didn’t know what the hell kind of place this was! Could this also be an ability of an Elemental?

“Just consider it a private little room,” Qi Xin responded lackadaisically. “Hey, can we get started?”

Zhong Chengshuo silently walked to the table in the center of the room. He drew out the Evil Fruit, and the circulating red light almost blinded Huang Jin. However, this talented spirit smith had experienced many hardships. Even if Zhong Chengshuo pulled out Fu Xingchuan from his pocket, Huang Jin wouldn’t be surprised.

Hmm, the legendary Evil Fruit, and then?

Then, Comrade Zhong Chengshuo firmly grasped the legendary spirit weapon and stabbed it into his left shoulder.

Huang Jin: “???!!!”

He recoiled and almost sat on the ground.

Zhong Chengshuo’s brow furrowed slightly. Like a skilled butcher, he smoothly disassembled his arm along the joints in just two seconds. When the fair and sturdy arm was placed on the table, the blood belatedly seeped out.

“Qi Xin,” Zhong Chengshuo said.

Qi Xin’s face tensed, and the corners of her mouth turned downward. She hesitated for a while before a mist-shrouded gray-black limb emerged seemingly out of thin air. She gestured for a while, then snapped it directly, followed by mashing it into minced meat. Clumps of minced meat were manipulated by her, suspended in the air, and floated near Zhong Chengshuo’s shoulder wound.

Just like a sponge absorbing water, they were quickly sucked clean by the wound.

Then, a short and thick baby’s arm protruded from the wound. It unnaturally expanded up and down, quickly transforming into an adult’s arm. Shortly after it fully regrew, Zhong Chengshuo, using the Evil Fruit again, disassembled it cleanly and placed it neatly next to the previous arm.

This cycle repeated six times.

As Huang Jin looked at the neatly arranged six left arms on the table, he stopped thinking.

Qi Xin was cutting her own body and using her flesh as food for the elderly, which he didn’t want to dwell on that matter. But Zhong Chengshuo’s style of eating-and-regrowing made it… difficult for him to accept.

After the seventh arm fully regenerated, Zhong Chengshuo moved his shoulder for a while. He looked up and down at the six arms on the table, and the Evil Fruit spun between his fingertips. “Huang Jin.”

“Here,” Huang Jin replied dazedly.

“As a spirit smith, you know techniques to maintain the vitality of limbs,” Zhong Chengshuo said with confidence. “I would like to ask for your help in preparing the procedure.”

Huang Jin struggled to turn his rusty mind.

Indeed, he knew those techniques. It was one of the fundamental skills of a spirit smith. Maintaining the vitality of biological material was essential to creating high-quality spirit weapons. But…

“But I’m a proper spirit smith,” Huang Jin said tremblingly. “Using human body parts to make spirit weapons… It’s still… a bit…”

“Not directly.”

Zhong Chengshuo lowered his eyes, and the glint of a knife flashed.

His movements were extremely swift. In an instant, the bone of that arm was smoothly removed. Before Huang Jin’s mind could fully react, only several piles of pristine white bones remained on the table.

Zhong Chengshuo skillfully sorted all the bones by size and rough categories. The human bones were neatly arranged together, resembling assembled parts to some extent. The peeled flesh and blood were piled on one side, clearly showing the structure of human fingers and wrists. Even Huang Jin, who had experienced many hardships, felt his scalp tingling.

This Zhong Chengshuo guy was truly not human.

While Huang Jin was desperately suppressing the urge to vomit, the fresh meat and blood were packed into a bag by Zhong Chengshuo. He handed it over to Qi Xin. Qi Xin had never encountered “leftover food” from Fear, so she took the bag and tightly held it in her hand.

“Animal bones are commonly used materials.”

Zhong Chengshuo turned to Huang Jin.

“These bones, could you please take care of them?”  

“Ah… Uh… Ah…” Huang Jin struggled not to look at the pile of bones while he remained tongue tied. “Wait, wait… Aren’t we unable to use spells here… I…”

“If it’s just a small area, I can adjust the environment.” Qi Xin hugged the bag. “Hurry up.”

Huang Jin pulled at his hair frantically. “But these are still human materials, and you’re a science post, so…”

“No. Although I am a science post, I’m also not human.”

Zhong Chengshuo’s face showed a subtly complex emotion that Huang Jin couldn’t decipher for a moment. All he could discern was a faint sense of melancholy and a peculiar determination.

“Animal bones are commonly used materials, aren’t they?”

Zhong Chengshuo adjusted his glasses. His newly grown arm was now covered by a phantom sleeve, and the bloodstains had been absorbed by the skin. His whole body was clean, as if nothing had happened.

Huang Jin dumbly responded in acknowledgement. In the illusory room created by Qi Xin, he instinctively dealt with the pile of bones.

Glistening white, hard, jade-like bones.

…Right, Zhong Chengshuo was a unique life form, a mixture of an Elemental and a human. His bones could still be used as materials. But what could they be used for? Huang Jin couldn’t think of anything, nor did he dare to imagine.

He just stared blankly as Zhong Chengshuo categorized the bones, leaving a segment of finger bone while packing the rest into an illusionary backpack. Bones stacked upon bones until they formed a small package.

“Alright.” Zhong Chengshuo nodded in satisfaction and slung the bag over his shoulder.

Qi Xin let out a breath and stuffed the bag of meat into her abdomen. Then, a sticky chewing sound came from beneath her clothes. After Huang Jin finished his eighteenth shiver, he wiped away the nonexistent cold sweat. “Is that it?”

“Remember to keep it a secret from Yin Ren.” Zhong Chengshuo nodded and stowed away the Evil Fruit. “If all goes well, I may need your help again.”

“But… What exactly are you planning to do?” Huang Jin once again pulled his hair frantically.

“I can no longer revert to ‘Fear’, and the combat power of a human body won’t help Yin Ren. And regardless of the human world or the Other Side, there is no knowledge that can guide me.”

“So, I need to research personally and find a way.”

Zhong Chengshuo opened his palm, the translucent white finger bone still warm, gently rolling in his hand. It resembled an ordinary lifeless object, much like Zhong Chengshuo himself, completely withdrawn.

Huang Jin released some of the tension in his breath. “That’s good, that’s good. No wonder you’re doing all this. It’s good to have a direction.”

“No,” Zhong Chengshuo solemnly replied.

“Huh? …Have you gone mad?!”

Huang Jin choked on his own saliva and coughed uncontrollably.

“You don’t even know if your own bones are useful, yet you did all this? You… at least should have a viable plan!”

“How can you wait until you know it will be successful before taking action when exploring the unknown?” Zhong Chengshuo looked at Huang Jin with some astonishment. “Even in the case of trial and error, there has to be a beginning. Everyone has to explore step by step.”

“Where did this ‘everyone’ come from?” Huang Jin covered his forehead, his tone fluctuating. “What kind of theory is this…”

“This is science,” Zhong Chengshuo replied.

“At this stage, it is my most powerful ability.”

Huang Jin opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to argue, but he couldn’t find the words to refute.

“Dr. Meiqiu is right. There are some experiments that only we ‘special researchers’ can do.”

Seeing that Huang Jin no longer spoke, Zhong Chengshuo tightened his grip on the segment of finger bone.

“To fight against the Primordial Elementals, this is an excellent scientific research site.”

……

“Hey, why did you bring a shoulder bag?” Yin Ren wondered.

He proudly dragged along a long string of Elementals, returning with a full load. However, as soon as he returned to the white room, he noticed that his lover had an eye-catching shoulder bag. The bag wasn’t large, holding at most three bottles of mineral water. Judging from its style, it seemed like the kind of bag science posts would use during field studies.

Here, items could be constructed based on concentrated imagination, but specifically creating a shoulder bag seemed a bit excessive.

“For storing the Evil Fruit and materials,” Zhong Chengshuo explained, opening a corner of the bag and letting Yin Ren see the red light of the Evil Fruit.

Indeed, Zhong Chengshuo needed samples. There was a chance that this person had already gone out to collect them in his absence.

Yin Ren nodded and eagerly picked up the string of Elementals. “Look at this! Can it be used as a sample?”

The Elemental he held resembled a black, worm-like carrot. The carrot wriggled frantically, and the “roots” at the tip swayed incessantly. It was even thinner than the intruders in the Archive, likely a species at the bottom of the food chain.

Zhong Chengshuo took the black carrot in his hands.

The touch of the small Elemental was peculiar, soft with a bit of resilience, somewhat like jelly.

As soon as Zhong Chengshuo grabbed it, the carrot seemed to be immobilized, instantly stiffening and not moving at all.

“Strange, why is it so obedient?” Yin Ren turned his head and stared seriously at the carrot. “When I released my aura earlier, these little things were the fastest to flee… Well done, Zhong Ge. You’re still as sharp as ever.”

“Its reaction is indeed interesting and worthy of study,” Zhong Chengshuo expressed sincerely.

In the palm of his left hand, the finger bone was held tightly, pressing against the body of the small Elemental, still warm to the touch.

Yin Ren was exhausted to the extreme, but he had no doubts. He piled up the small Elementals and lay down next to Zhong Chengshuo, like a fierce beast returning from a hunt. Yin Ren stretched out his limbs and soon closed his eyes.

His black hair scattered on the ground, emitting a faint aroma of sandalwood. Zhong Chengshuo lifted a strand of black hair and lightly touched it with his lips. The black hair hung naturally, slightly cool to the touch, just like real hair.

“Rest well,” Zhong Chengshuo said softly.

……

Shian Building, top floor office.

Li Nian and Fu Xingchuan sat at their respective desks, staring at each other for a long time.

“Is it just my imagination, or do you really despise me so much? What’s with that look?” Fu Xingchuan put his feet up on the desk. “It’s only been a few days, and you’re already missing that kid, Xiang Jiang?”

“I miss the days when we could catch him,” Li Nian said with a stern face. “Did you change your socks? There’s a strong odor coming from your feet.”

Fu Xingchuan quickly put his feet down from the desk. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve been busy lately and completely forgot.”

Li Nian snorted.

When Fu Xingchuan returned, his appearance was drastically different. His leg had healed, his back was straightened, and his dark circles were gone. However, shortly after starting his work, the dark circles returned to Minister Fu’s face.

There was no other reason but the troublesome corruption source case. Not to mention, right after they sent away Unit 9, they encountered new complications.

A few individuals claimed online that they had seen an “angel’s arm” and felt “comforting love”. They even claimed to have developed spiritual vision. Although most citizens were uninterested in such grandiose fantasy talk, Shian still dispatched people to investigate.

But they couldn’t find any clues.

Even the most advanced cultivators couldn’t see any “angel’s arm”. Even when the interviewees pointed frantically at certain places, indicating “right here”, the instruments only detected emptiness.

One wave subsided, and another wave arose—all these energy-consuming, time-wasting disputes.

Without uncovering the truth, they couldn’t close the case. At the moment, the desks of the two ministers were piled high with documents, enough to bury a person alive.

“Let’s go to the canteen for lunch. I want to eat braised pigeon,” Fu Xingchuan complained, shuffling through papers. “Lao Li, we’re at that age where we should take care of ourselves—”

He hadn’t finished speaking when the intercom phone rang.

“Hello?” Fu Xingchuan answered with one hand, activating the speakerphone.

“Minister Fu? There are people who want to meet with you and Minister Li,” the subordinate reported diligently. “They are two ordinary female citizens. I told them that they needed to register their visit, but they insisted on seeing you first.”

“Ah?” Fu Xingchuan took several seconds to react. “We don’t have time right now. Let them register according to the rules.”

The phone fell silent; presumably the subordinate had covered the microphone and gone to communicate with the two women.

“They said they originally wanted to find members of Unit 9 but couldn’t reach them, so they decided to contact you directly.”

In a moment, the voice of the subordinate returned through the phone. There was a hint of helplessness in their tone.

Fu Xingchuan and Li Nian glanced at each other. “Unit 9? …What are their names?”

“Wait a moment.”

A few seconds later, the subordinate cleared their throat.

“…It’s Ms. Lin Bei and Ms. Gao Mengyu.”


Kinky Thoughts:

For those who forgot, these are the two characters in the first arc (case 1, the cat case).


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Evil As Humans Ch209

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 209: Doubt

Yin Ren stepped out of that red door once again.

The terrifying sensation of weightlessness, the powerlessness to unleash his strength, coupled with the bombardment of a consciousness that made one lose oneself—in less than half a minute, he appeared again in the center of the white room, looking even more disheveled than the previous time.

At first, the members of Unit 9 were all on edge, but by the hundredth time the Great Celestial Master appeared in the center of the room, no one cast a glance anymore.

Except for Zhong Chengshuo.

Zhong Chengshuo didn’t need to practice, but it also wasn’t good to act alone without the team. After being rejected by Yin Ren, Zhong Chengshuo remained silent. He sat on the ground, hugging his knees, staring blankly as Yin Ren flashed back and forth.

Initially, Yin Ren could only stay “outside” for less than half a minute. With each attempt, the time he spent outside gradually increased, but it never exceeded five minutes.

Zhong Chengshuo had never seen Yin Ren in such a sorry state. Even after the battles with Mr. Qiu and Mr. Le, Yin Ren’s aura remained stable, without the current… helplessness.

Even Zhong Chengshuo was at a loss.

Even if Zhong Chengshuo wanted to help, he couldn’t turn bodily memory into explicit theory—just like a fish naturally knowing how to swim, even if it had exceptional intelligence, it couldn’t convey this instinct to humans through language.

So he could only watch.

In the beginning, when Yin Ren failed a dozen times, he would still smile a bit embarrassingly at Zhong Chengshuo. But later on, he wouldn’t even turn his head. His expression was filled with exhaustion and confusion.

Since Zhong Chengshuo’s “resurrection”, Yin Ren would occasionally glance at him, as if there was a red thread connecting them through their gaze. However, in these 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 57 seconds, to Yin Ren, he himself seemed no different from the other members of the group.

Zhong Chengshuo was surprised to find that he didn’t quite like this feeling. Whether it was Yin Ren’s persistence or his disregard, it was a subtle kind of sadness, like a black thread sticking to a piece of snowy white fabric.

So he shifted his body, moving closer to the center of the room. Close enough that when Yin Ren flashed for the hundredth time, he was right by Zhong Chengshuo’s feet.

One standing, one sitting, Zhong Chengshuo looked up at Yin Ren. However, Yin Ren only wiped the sweat off his face and strode toward the red door.

His figure was swallowed by the red door for the hundredth time.

Zhong Chengshuo felt a sense of melancholy as he took out a photo. Yin Ren was sleeping soundly in the photo. Even in his sleep, whenever Zhong Chengshuo leaned in, there would always be a warm strand of hair sticking to his skin, stretching lazily.

Zhong Chengshuo looked at his empty hands and tightened his fingers, lost in thought.

……

At this moment, Yin Ren was oblivious to Zhong Chengshuo’s unusual behavior. To be precise, he was too preoccupied with his own abnormality—forcing himself to immerse repeatedly in the Other Side’s environment, his perception had become completely tangled.

He tasted screams on his tongue, smelled the stench of rotting organs in his ears, and his nose was filled with the sickly sweet scent of expired sugar. The surroundings were a dizzying array of chaotic fragments. He couldn’t even figure out how to move, let alone find someone.

Yin Ren attempted to mimic his previous battles and block off his senses, but without Zhong Chengshuo’s guidance, he could only remain in a vegetative state for a few minutes.

It shouldn’t be like this.

He was the cub of “Fear” with the ability to move freely in this realm.

Yin Ren desperately tried to recall the grassy mountains and streams from a thousand years ago, then the cozy living room from a thousand years later. The impression of the “white room” that had been etched into his mind was fading. He forced himself to stay outside the red door, alternating between the “chaos” and the “emptiness” in his perception.

Over the years, Yin Ren had developed his own way of adapting to the unknown—

Pushing himself to the edge.

When facing imminent death, his hidden potential would naturally be squeezed out. This move had proven successful countless times in battles and hunts from a thousand years ago.

Information explosion, emptiness. Information explosion, emptiness… Yin Ren repeatedly opened and closed his senses, tempering his nerves time and time again. His mind was almost overwhelmed by the jumble of information. It felt as if he was being crushed into pieces and then pieced back together again.

…No wonder Qi Xin didn’t want to save people first. If Xiaohe’s mother had settled down, she would really want to escape from this place.

Yin Ren struggled to control his perception, as if steering a sinking ship in a raging storm.

Gradually, what lay before him was no longer a disorganized storm, but a merging of scenes.

Scenes belonging to others, scenes belonging to himself. Unseen scenes, scenes deeply ingrained in his memory. Light and shadow still appeared tangled, and Yin Ren felt as if he had fallen into the stomach of a colorful monster. The debris of the surrounding scenes rolled and ground against him, bringing a heavier sense of pain.

Amidst dizziness and intense pain, Yin Ren forced himself to think.

With his power, he could assist Qi Xin in protecting the city. Li Nian’s proposal for “sealing” also made sense… There were so many ways to find liberation, so why did he choose the most difficult one?

His mind was repeatedly battered by information, almost turning into a pulp.

Yin Ren became somewhat dazed for a moment. Amidst the vivid colors, his thoughts became increasingly elusive. He wasn’t sure if he had truly arrived on the Other Side or if he had fallen into a nightmare.

Even though he suppressed the thought of returning to the white room, various ideas of giving up continued to scream in his ears.

Right, he could cooperate with Zhong Chengshuo… Didn’t they work together so well in the previous battle against Mr. Le? In case of conscious corruption or emotional influence, he just needed to block off his senses and wholeheartedly trust… trust Zhong Chengshuo…

No.

Yin Ren abruptly snapped back to reality. Just as the first two notes of “Happy Birthday” played in his mind, he forcefully shifted his thoughts.

Although he came to the Other Side to fulfill his promise to Lu Xiaohe, did he truly have only that one promise to fulfill?

Not long ago, Zhong Chengshuo solemnly blew out a candle in front of him, and a warm glow flickered in those dark eyes.

[I hope that no matter what the future holds, we will be the best accomplices.] That person sincerely made a wish to him.

Becoming the most excellent humanoid weapon was indeed a method. Capable of fighting demons and disasters, proficient in various spells, and able to protect his comrades and transform into an eyeless blade.

But then what?

Perhaps Love would be sealed away, returning to the Other Side to balance Qi Xin. If he did that, would Qi Xin spare him and Zhong Chengshuo? Mr. Qiu was able to destroy Zhong Chengshuo’s physical body and take him away. When it came to battling the Great Primordial Elementals or self-preservation, these were the issues that Zhong Chengshuo needed to deal with.

Until the day Love and Sorrow vanished.

He would be responsible for the mortal realm, and Zhong Chengshuo would be responsible for the Other Side. It seemed fair, but it made Yin Ren extremely uncomfortable. He couldn’t forget the sight of that person losing his head, falling before him.

Like a wound, scabbing over, tearing away, and repeating the process. No amount of sweetness or warmth could heal it.

As soon as this thought arose, the debris of scenes around Yin Ren gradually turned blood red. His imagination quickly constructed the scene—the sunset and stone steps of that day appeared before him once again.

Whether it was the blood splattered on the walls or the moss between the stone steps, every detail was vividly present. Warm blood flowed over the stone slabs, and the stench of flesh and blood filled the air.

His memories of them were much deeper than that wretched white room.

How many times had he seen this scene?

Yin Ren reached out and touched the bloodstained wall. The scene froze with Zhong Chengshuo’s body stiffly leaning against the wall, covered in mangled flesh and blood. Even without a head, Yin Ren could still recognize that person from his figure alone.

Yin Ren crouched in front of the lifeless body, gently straightening Zhong Chengshuo’s disheveled and blood-soaked clothes. His lover’s chest wound was gruesomely torn open, and Yin Ren carefully closed it. But even after doing everything, the scent of death still lingered, viciously wrenching at Yin Ren’s heart.

Perhaps with revenge taken, the tragic state of Yin Village found peace in his heart. And in its place, this scene became a horrifying curse that sent chills down his spine with just a single glance.

This time, Yin Ren didn’t look away.

He gazed at the headless body—the bloodstains on his hands were as fresh as ever, not yet dried.

The cart will find its way around the hill when it gets there*. Enjoying life in a timely manner is the most important thing. That’s always been my way of thinking. But if we split the responsibility in half and go on as we are… I don’t think that qualifies as the best accomplice.”

*(车到山前必有路) Idiom referring to things will eventually sort itself out.

That was the wish you made to me. How can I just brush it off?

Yin Ren traced the broken neck of the body. The severed flesh revealed a snow-white spine, resembling a pale seed.

“…A long time ago, I never used to consider the ‘future’.”

Yin Ren’s fingertips moved from Zhong Chengshuo’s mutilated neck to his ribs, feeling the lingering warmth of the skin. After a moment of hesitation, Yin Ren leaned forward and embraced him. Without the weight of a head, the body felt much lighter than he had imagined.

“But after awakening in this era, I’ve thought about the ‘future’ twice. The first time, I thought about how much I love you, and you’re human. If you were to grow old and die in the future, I would be devastated.”

“The second time, I thought about how much I love you, and you lost your original power. If there were another instance of feeling ‘powerless’… I wouldn’t even dare to imagine it.”

Yin Ren closed his eyes, and his nostrils were filled with the scent of blood and the moist smell of rocks.

And Zhong Chengshuo’s breath.

Pure and sharp like a mountain forest, with a faint hint of mint. It was Yin Ren’s favorite scent, but when mixed with the scent of blood, it transformed into a terrifying odor that chilled him to the bone.

“I think there might only be one way to be completely rid of this scene—”

Yin Ren tightly embraced the lifeless body, carefully closing off his senses. Between the sealed “shutdown” and the open “maximum firepower”, there were many subtle controls over his senses. He had forgotten how many times he had repeated this process, but Yin Ren was certain that he had vaguely found the invisible “knob” at its edge.

“—I must be able to build an indestructible ‘future’.”

Click.

The scent at his nose vanished, and the weight in his embrace dissipated like smoke.

It was as if he had found the correct password for a safe or tuned the radio to the right frequency. The environment around Yin Ren trembled lightly, and the lingering, excruciating pain dissipated into thin air.

……

“What are you trying to do?” Zhong Chengshuo said, stopping next to Qi Xin.

Yin Ren didn’t return for a long time, and it made Zhong Chengshuo’s knees stiff when he sat down. He had nothing to do but devote all his energy to worry and speculation, a feeling that didn’t need to be expressed in words.

Yin Ren didn’t know how to move on the Other Side, but Zhong Chengshuo did. Ten seconds after pushing open the door, he found Qi Xin, who was doing nothing.

“I made myself clear, didn’t I? I want ‘Fear’ to return.” Qi Xin floated in the air, casting a sidelong glance at Zhong Chengshuo. For some reason, she seemed reluctant to meet his gaze. “Of course, not referring to you.”

“…Can’t I do it?” Zhong Chengshuo was taken aback.

“You have integrated too well with humans. Anyway, you can’t.” Qi Xin lowered her eyes. “…But it’s understandable. You didn’t have thoughts before, so it’s inevitable that you wouldn’t grasp the gravity of things.”

Zhong Chengshuo stared at her for a while. “You remember what happened back then.”

“The period when you were hunted down was a grand carnival on the Other Side. Love, Joy, Disgust… They tore this place apart with gaps, just to trap you. Why, don’t you remember at all?”

“I only remember the pain.”

“Haha.” Qi Xin forced a laugh. “Forget about that. Old* Fear, you don’t seem like the type to engage in conversation with others.”

*[Lao] (). I’m translating it because it sounds too weird given that I translated his “name”.

“Listen, even if you don’t have any abilities, at least none of the Elementals here—including me—can completely kill you. If you have something to say, go ahead and speak.”

As she spoke, her body instinctively tensed up.

“I feel like I’m useless,” Zhong Chengshuo said pensively.

Qi Xin: “Ah?”

Her defensive posture instantly crumbled, and a hint of confusion appeared on her face. What was this former dominant God of Death from the Other Side talking about?

“If Yin Ren only wanted to find the missing people, he wouldn’t have disregarded me as well. I can tell that Yin Ren wants to become the true Fear,” Zhong Chengshuo earnestly recounted.

Qi Xin gritted her teeth. This person’s account was irrationally infuriating, but she was indeed interested in this topic. “Go on.”

“At that time, I won’t be able to intervene in his battle with Love. Even if I were to forcefully join, I would only become a burden.” Zhong Chengshuo analyzed himself in detail. “Just the thought of it makes me feel somewhat sad.”

Qi Xin: “…” It was true that her essence was “Sorrow”, but seeking emotional advice from a Primordial Elemental seemed off somehow, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“I don’t think you need to be too sad.” Qi Xin cleared her throat. “I don’t know how things will turn out. That kid Yin Ren can only take it step by step. To be honest, he may not necessarily become the true Fear.”

“What do you mean?” Zhong Chengshuo’s expression immediately turned solemn.

Qi Xin casually pointed to a distance—a dozen or so steps away, two white Primordial Elementals were engaged in a fierce fight. One had already been mostly consumed by the other but was still struggling desperately. Judging by their appearance, those two little creatures were undoubtedly of the same kind.

“Normal Elementals should be born on the Other Side under the influence of ‘Satisfaction’. If there’s enough food after their birth, they can survive by feeding on emotions alone. Cannibalism within the same species only occurs in famine-like environments.”

“As for Primordial Elementals like us, we must inevitably kill the previous generation after being born… After all, resources are limited, and as long as the previous generation is alive, they will unconsciously absorb emotional nutrients, causing the new generation to quickly perish due to malnutrition.”

Qi Xin gestured casually.

“But according to your accounts, first, Yin Ren was born in the mortal realm without the intervention of ‘Satisfaction’, which is unprecedented. Second, he has yet to consume you, who occupies an empty position, but he is quite healthy.”

The more Zhong Chengshuo frowned, the tighter his brows knitted. “Are you saying that Yin Ren isn’t a normal Primordial Elemental?”

“Yes. I don’t know what he will become.” Qi Xin rolled her eyes, and the dark abyss of her eyes squeezed at the corners. “But he looks like Fear, his aura is that of Fear, and his destructive power is no different from Fear. To me, he is the cub of ‘Fear’.”

Zhong Chengshuo remained silent.

“As long as he can solve the problems on the Other Side, I don’t care about his bloodline purity. In the current situation, it seems like I don’t have a choice either,” Qi Xin said. “So no one can predict what will happen in the future, and it doesn’t matter if you mind.”

“Yin Ren’s condition is even more unstable than expected, and you don’t have a way to restore my powers,” Zhong Chengshuo dryly summarized. “I can’t possibly not mind.”

“I can’t help you, and I don’t care.”

Qi Xin averted her gaze.

“For the Other Side, you are now no different from a dead thing, Mr. Fear.”

Zhong Chengshuo raised his gaze. The two small white Elementals had finished their fight. The silhouette of one had disappeared without a trace, while the other floated lightly as if nothing had happened.

The one that had been consumed didn’t even leave a trace behind.

On the Other Side without Fear, only this kind of “death” existed. Even if he stood here now, he couldn’t interfere with anything.

Zhong Chengshuo took off the glasses made of “illusions” and raised his pitch-black eyes. When the tiny entity floated away, his hand reached towards his lower back. Beneath his loose white linen clothing, a touch of crimson was hidden.

Perhaps due to the infiltration of Yin Ren’s blood, the Evil Fruit wasn’t an illusion but was brought in for real. The crimson flowed on the blade was captivatingly beautiful. Zhong Chengshuo pressed his fingertip against the blade, and a trace of chill seeped from the razor-sharp edge.

Qi Xin couldn’t offer any effective advice, and the information from Shian was limited.

‘This couldn’t go on,’ he thought.

Since Yin Ren wouldn’t slow down, he had to catch up.

……

Yin Ren opened his eyes.

He found himself in an exceptionally wide tunnel with countless scenes and fragments crowded on the black-gray walls of the tunnel, like walls adorned with festive lights. This passageway resembled an ant nest, with no visible beginning or end, and branching out into innumerable forks. Everything in the world intersected here, dazzling to the point of breathlessness.

Like an endless celebration.

Yin Ren imagined a solid ground, and the next moment, he felt an appropriate weight under his feet. He wasn’t sure if this was the true form of the Other Side, but at least for now, his body was no longer in pain.

Yin Ren quickly recited a mantra, but things didn’t go as he wished. He couldn’t even produce a spark.

…Well, he had to take things one step at a time. Yin Ren curiously took a step forward, observing everything around him.

“Oh, right. Almost forgot about you.”

Just as Yin Ren took a step forward, he suddenly slapped his forehead. He took out the trembling Dog Thing from his pocket and tapped on its surface with his knuckles.

“You were scared to death, but Qi Xin already knew about your existence. So, do you have anything to say now?”

[Home! Home! Home!]

The excited thoughts of Dog Thing came through.

[Can I go home?]

“…Go. Now that Qi Xin is watching, it’s pointless for me to keep you here.” Yin Ren chuckled. He extended his hand, and the cellphone floated on its own in midair.

[Go home—!!!] Dog Thing cheered.

In an instant, a mass of black oozed out from the cellphone. Its surface appeared watery and leaden gray, covered in densely packed and regular pores. Around its round body, spider-like long legs emerged.

The thing floated lightly in the air, resembling a variation of Saturn with insect-like legs forming its rings. Those legs moved rhythmically, and the spherical body drifted in the air.

“So this is the ‘Anxiety’ with such a distinguished appearance.” Yin Ren rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. “Alright, stop lingering and go already.”

[Thank you.]

Dog Thing circled around Yin Ren with its small legs pedaling happily.

[Goodbye.]

Moving gracefully like a jellyfish, it drifted towards one of the branching paths in the tunnel. Yin Ren had no idea how these things navigated, and he shook his head with a smile.

Next, all he had to do was find Qi Xin. The beginning was always the hardest, and he had already completed the most troublesome step!

Yin Ren began to move along the tunnel.

In the first hour, he held his head high and walked with confidence.

In the second hour, his steps grew heavier, and his brows furrowed.

In the third hour, he lay down on the ground.

This place was too vast, like an infinitely flawed space. Trying to find Qi Xin here was more challenging than panning for gold in a riverbed with bare hands. But if he went back to the white room like this… Yin Ren felt a tinge of resentment, as if he were rolling back to the spawn point in a game.

Qi Xin shouldn’t have gone too far from the white room, right? After all, how was this damn place even supposed to be navigated?

Yin Ren lay on the ground, looking at the radiant colors in all directions with millions of white structures, unable to discern the way back.

…Oh well. If he couldn’t find Qi Xin within an hour, he would reluctantly roll back. If he stayed away for too long, Zhong Chengshuo would surely worry.

Yin Ren let out a long sigh and was about to get up when he saw something round and rolling quickly towards him from the distance. A circle of familiar, small legs surrounded it.

“Dog Thing?!”

[Ahhhhhhhh!!!]

Before Dog Thing even reached him, a string of screams pierced through Yin Ren’s mind. Startled, he jumped up and saw the massive pursuers behind Dog Thing—

Various black and gray entities twisted together, forming a black tornado. They jostled and raced straight towards Dog Thing. The legs of Dog Things were about to break, and its surface pores oozed a transparent liquid—whether cold sweat or tears, Yin Ren couldn’t tell.

[Help! Help! Help! Help!] Dog Thing shouted desperately. It squeezed into Yin Ren’s hand on its own, transforming into a cellphone. Immediately, the unfortunate cellphone started vibrating endlessly in Yin Ren’s hand.

Yin Ren: “You—”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was engulfed by the swarm of black entities.

The familiar pain returned. Only this time, it was external, not internal. These damn things were devouring him!

Yin Ren turned around in horror, trying to escape, but these Elementals crowded around him, making it impossible for him to move an inch.

He attempted to imagine the white room, but these unidentified Elementals were releasing intense emotions, turning his mind into a chaotic mess, rendering him unable to focus.

Unable to escape and unable to use his abilities, was he going to sink in the gutter?! Yin Ren covered his head, fully convinced that if this continued for a few more minutes, he would be skinned alive.

Was this how Qi Xin “took care” of a cub?

…Wait a minute. He was the cub of “Fear”, the highest level of emotion in theory, so he could simply consume them.

Yin Ren thought and acted swiftly. He grabbed one of the slippery entities and took a bite. He didn’t know what emotion this was, but it tasted somewhat like tortoise jelly.

Not bad.

Yin Ren felt revitalized and started devouring them even faster. Tearing off a piece here, swallowing a whole Elemental there. Soon, as if realizing that using a mouth was too slow, Yin Ren instinctively unleashed his true form and consumed them with his entire being.

As his true form emerged, the Elementals froze in place as if under a petrification spell.

In the next second, they once again twisted into a black tornado, but this time, they dashed in the opposite direction.

“Thinking of running away?”

Yin Ren, who had already expended quite a bit of energy, had just satisfied his appetite. He directed his body forward and pounced, closely pursuing the black tornado while voraciously absorbing it.

Something inside him was awakening. His true form became lighter and faster, akin to darkness itself. Like a tidal wave, Yin Ren swept towards the horde of Elementals, and with a crashing black wave, only a few survivors remained. The rest were engulfed and vanished into the darkness.

He was satisfied with his meal, but it left an unsatisfying taste in his mouth.

After confirming that the surroundings were completely cleared, Yin Ren leisurely restored his human form. It was said that a full stomach would put one in a good mood. Lord Ghost King strolled for a while to aid digestion and decided to return openly and honestly. He tightly clenched Dog Thing in his right hand and carried a few leftover Elementals in his left hand, intending to bring them back for further study with Zhong Chengshuo.

It could be considered returning with a full load, and Lord Ghost King’s mood improved slightly.

Not far away, within a certain shadow, a pair of human eyes blinked without pause, with the pupils following Yin Ren’s movements.

“An evil being? A Primordial Elemental? Or…”

The person muttered to themselves.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen something this interesting.”


Kinky Thoughts:

When I first looked up tortoise jelly (guilinggao) I thought it was grass jelly, but it turns out it’s made from turtle shells, commonly from the golden coin turtle in the past, which is currently critically endangered, but now from other turtles.

Personally, I rather eat grass jelly…


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Full Server First Kill Ch6

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 6: Rewards and Curses

Teest was lying on a pile of Nol’s bones, too weak to stand. Nol didn’t rush him. After straining his nerves for more than twenty hours, Nol himself was extremely exhausted. After all, no one had specified that the reward had to be received standing.

The reward was as he had predicted. For defeating a hidden boss beyond his level, Nol gained a large amount of experience points, plus a rare item corresponding to the “raider’s profession”.

[Guardian’s Phylactery: After devouring, you can evolve into the rare undead monster “Lich”. The most proficient skill will undergo mutation enhancement.

※First clear special reward. Only for undead creatures to use; not tradable.]

Countless white fragments of light exploded, and the little black box that had just fallen into the water appeared before him.

Without thinking, Nol grabbed the box and took a bite.

The box seemed to be made of leather, about the size of an apple, with the hardness of an apple. But it tasted indescribably disgusting, as if he was chewing on rotten meat. If it weren’t for the fact that skeleton soldiers had no sense of taste, Nol would have vomited violently.

Honestly, evolving now wasn’t cost-effective.

This thing could cause a skill to mutate, and the higher the level, the rarer the skill that mutated, the better. At the moment, the highest proficiency skill Nol had was the lowest level “Devour”, a skill every undead creature had.

But he had no choice. A lich had a physical body and could disguise itself as a normal person, which was what he desperately needed.

The black box was thus swallowed by Nol and magically disappeared inside the skeleton.

The next instant, there was a surge of dark light, and the scattered bones on the ground were held together by some force, forcibly assembled. Then, withered flesh crawled onto the skeleton, and dim organs appeared between the ribs.

Organs, muscles, skin, hair.

The flesh gradually became whole, fresh, and plump. Nol raised his right arm and saw a familiar palm. He sighed in satisfaction and used up all the reward experience points—

[Lich – Lv.20]

[HP: 52,617/52,617 | MP: 43,780/43,780]

[Strength: 2,004 | Agility: 1,301 | Intelligence: 2,685 | Physical Defense: 3,416 | Magic Defense: 4,520]

[Status: Fire and light attribute attacks deal 500% damage.]

Not long after, the mutated skill was fresh out of the oven:

[Skill: Devour Lv. Max → Heretical Devour [Elementary]]

[Heretical Devour [Elementary]: The devourable object changes from “undead creatures” to “all species”; devouring the target’s flesh will gain experience points and randomly acquire one of the target’s skills; this ability can only be used on a single target once.]

[Note: The higher the target’s strength, the higher the failure rate. Can have up to 3 acquired skills.]

[※”Heretical Devour” can be upgraded with the evolution of the holder.]

The properties after evolution were excellent, and the mutated skill could also be used. Now he could easily protect himself. The misfortune ended here. As long as he “divorced” Teest, he could pretend to be a common person and live freely outside…

[Warning, abnormal behavior detected.]

…Huh?

[Combat level comparison completed. It is judged to be an abnormal means of conquering. Initiating—— Initiating—— Initiating——]

The sweet female voice mechanically repeated, and Nol instinctively held his breath.

[——Initiating curse punishment.] The system finally gave its conclusion.

…What the hell?

Indeed, it was theoretically impossible for them to win this battle. Normally, game developers wouldn’t enter the game and remember all the mechanisms of the boss. He could understand the system’s misjudgment. Under normal circumstances, they would just freeze the account, and the Player could appeal.

Why was it a “curse”? This punishment was too weird.

As Nol was pondering, the status bar flickered as if it had poor signal. It changed from light blue to blood red, and its content also changed—

[Lich – Lv.20]

[HP: 100/100 [Permanently Locked] | MP: 100/100 [Permanently Locked]]

[Strength: 20 [-99%] | Agility: 13 [-99%] | Intelligence: 2,685 | Physical Defense: 34 [-99%] | Magic Defense: 45 [-99%]]

[Status: The curse “Physical Destruction [Undispellable]” permanently effective.]

Nol slowly extended his hand and poked the underlined “Physical Destruction”. Sure enough, the system gave a thoughtful explanation.

[※ Physical Destruction: Under special conditions, it can occur by repeatedly using spells that counter your own attributes. The severity and duration of the curse depend on the specific circumstances. Equipment and medicinal gains are proportionally discounted.]

His HP and MP were directly locked, and his various attributes were reduced by 99%. The curse couldn’t be dispelled, and it was permanently effective. His “Physical Destruction” was directly pulled at maximum strength.

In the end, it left him with a normal “intelligence” attribute, plus a poison attack that canceled the fire and light weaknesses inherited by undead monsters. However, when one’s defense was permanently reduced by 99%, whether they had a weakness or not didn’t really matter.

Nol sat quietly in place, staring at his desolate status bar.

…Until a piece of red curtain covered his naked body.

“You’re younger than I thought, Mr. Mage,” a voice said. “Hey, even if we’re married, you don’t have to be so… candid.”

Nol raised his head and looked at Teest, who was barely standing.

“You don’t look too happy.” Teest swayed a bit and sat down next to Nol. “What, are you cursed too?”

“What do you mean cursed ‘too’?” Nol finally pulled his attention back.

Teest chuckled. “I got an extra curse, called ‘God’s Forsaken, the kind that can’t be dispelled. Who knows, maybe God just doesn’t like this kind of weak-to-strong drama.”

“I’ve never heard of this curse,” Nol said truthfully.

“Physical Destruction” he knew. Black mages using healing spells, holy knights using black magic—all would have a “Physical Destruction” state. But he really didn’t know anything about “God’s Forsaken”.

His game had been added with too many miscellaneous things. Nol has started to get used to it.

“The curse doesn’t have much effect on my body.” Teest shrugged. “But it forbids me, uh, from using anything related to divine power.”

He was vague, but Nol knew what that meant.

“God” was a euphemistic term for system functions. If he didn’t guess wrong, Teest couldn’t change his face from now on, he couldn’t buy various official gift packs, and he was forbidden to trade with other Players through the shop system. What was worse, he couldn’t team up normally, let alone join any guild.

Next, Teest would have to face all enemies alone.

“But I don’t think the impact is serious. You lose some, you gain some.” Teest grimaced and started washing his bloody hair, seemingly very nonchalant. “What about you? What’s your curse?”

When Nol finished explaining from the perspective of a “game NPC”, Teest’s mouth gaped, and the hand washing his head stiffened in mid-air.

“Bud, you’re too miserable,” he sincerely lamented. “So, you’re not much stronger than a skeleton soldier now. I still have to escort you home.”

Nol nodded. “That’s the case.”

After explaining to Teest, he also calmed down a bit.

Regardless, he now had a human form and could return to human society. As for the issue of combat power… It was just another game problem. Since he could find a way to deal with Lich Valdorlock, he could solve this one.

Nol adjusted the decaying mantle on his body, looking at the stagnant water at the foot of the stairs.

His appearance was almost identical to that of the modern human “Xu Yue”.

Black hair with slightly longer bangs that just covered the back of his nape. His features were very handsome and distinguished, with somewhat deep contours, slightly melancholic. But compared to a real western appearance, his brows and eyes were softer. His face was still pale from being overworked, his lips lacked color, and his physique hadn’t changed—

He used to pay great attention to health management, maintaining a slim and strong figure with no obesity from being overworked, but he didn’t have time to go to the gym, so this strength was just that of an ordinary person. In this world, he could probably be considered skinny.

The only change was his eyes.

His pupils had turned into the bright blue typical of undead creatures, faintly glowing in the dark, like two clusters of will-o’-wisps. Nol sighed. When he left here, he would have to find a way to cover them.

“Never mind, let’s get divorced first,” Nol said to Teest.

Teest nodded and cheerfully took out the little idol. In an instant, the little idol collapsed into dust in his palm. Seeing Teest’s face gradually turn pale, Nol suddenly realized the problem—this man’s curse seemed to be called “God’s Forsaken”.

Teest was abandoned by the system, unable to operate any contracts, including, of course, the marriage contract.

Normally, Nol could also unilaterally terminate the marriage. So he took the last little idol and tried to activate it through prayer. Regrettably, nothing happened.

The idol only regarded him as a roadside stone. God knows if he was implicated by Teest’s curse or if he himself had a problem.

They challenged a task beyond their level, which not only brought impossible curses but also impossible bugs. Nol tightly pursed his lips. After bearing such an outrageous curse, he thought he couldn’t be any unluckier.

But as it turns out, he really could.

“It seems we can’t separate for now, honey.” Teest shook the sand off his hand, his tone a bit heavy.

Nol was silent for a moment. “First, let’s find the loot, then leave… Where did you come from?”

Actually, he knew the answer.

“Three Forks Road Village, not far from here.” Sure enough, Teest muttered.

“Then go to Three Forks Road Village.” Nol stood up and tied the curtain around himself, making it into a simple robe. “Let’s deal with the curse separately. If it’s just to dissolve the marriage contract, I think I have a way.”

“I wanted to say earlier, you’re not an ordinary mage, are you? You know everything,” Teest half-jokingly said. “Even the mysterious lich is so familiar to you, I believe it if you say you’re the Pope of some church… What did you believe in before you died, the Goddess of Life? The Eternal Son? Or something else?”

‘Great,’ Nol thought. ‘I don’t recognize any of these “gods” you’re talking about.’

Unless the creators of the game thought there was too little controversy, they wouldn’t design too many or too heavy religious elements. At best, they would have a vague orthodox religion in the background, a few beautiful scenic spots, and distinctive NPCs.

Forget about religion, even the war elements in “Tahe” were few—those bloody wars with a western fantasy flavor only appeared in historical settings. “Tahe” was positioned as a light-hearted game. Most of the conflict settings were simple “A good, B bad”.

As a result, now a Player stood in front of him and asked, “What did you believe in before you died?”

A bona fide atheist, thank you.

But Nol certainly couldn’t say that. He kept a straight face and chose a softer answer—

“I have no faith,” he said solemnly. “I only believe in myself.”

Teest’s smile slightly froze. He subtly looked at Nol for a while, and the smile suddenly grew larger. Eventually, he laughed out loud.

“Sorry. After all, it’s a privacy issue. I was being rude.” His tone was extremely sincere. “Let’s get this place sorted out and try to go back early—we are on our honeymoon after all.”

Having said that, Teest was about to stand up, but was held down by Nol.

“…?”

“Your injuries.” Nol threw several healing spells on Teest—with his current attributes, he could only use minor healing spells—Teest’s ghastly face quickly healed, becoming pleasant to look at again.

“Isn’t the healing spell harmful to you?”

“Not now. Instead, your face is spiritually attacking me,” Nol said grimly. “Well, it looks much better now.”

“Such praise, honey.” Teest straightened up and said ceremoniously, “Is there anything you need me to do for you?”

“Yes.” Nol was straightforward. “Since I have my loot, you must also have your spoils.”

“Show me. Maybe I can give you some inspiration.”


The author has something to say:

Cool text1 golden finger2, but a trial version for members. The whole experience lasted just three seconds.

1Genre in web novels, which generally have a protagonist that often has a strong, dominant role with their conflicts resolved smoothly and satisfyingly, allowing readers to experience a sense of triumph and accomplishment. These elements include such things as the main character gaining unexpected power ups, exacting satisfying revenge, or achieving significant success, which gives the reader a cool (refreshing) [Shuang] () feeling.
2In the context of a novel, particularly those involving games or leveling up systems, it refers to special advantages, privileges, or cheat-like abilities that the protagonist possesses, which help them to overcome difficulties and progress in the story much faster or easier than others.

Nol: ……Give me my attribute values back!!!Believe in him, he’ll find a way ☆


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Full Server First Kill Ch5

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 5: Victory

Teest’s sense of ease that he had always carried disappeared, and he glared at the skeleton beside him with a blank expression.

“What?” He could barely hold down his voice.

“We need to get married—the kind with a sacred covenant,” Nol said. “You must have brought the small idol, right?”

Activities like reshaping people, establishing covenants, managing guilds, and other significant tasks needed to be completed in front of an idol. However, for things like wedding ceremonies or forming guilds, some would like to conduct them in special places.

In this case, portable small idols were very handy. They were about the size of an egg and were for one-time use. Although they were game shop items, one only cost less than ten yuan.

Plus, registering for the game granted three small idols. Players with any sense of gaming wouldn’t use them up too early.

“I brought one.” Sure enough, Teest reached into his waist pouch and pulled out a small wooden idol.

For some reason, Nol always felt his tone was a bit cold.

But soon, his attention was completely attracted by the little idol. Looking at the small idol close at hand, Nol couldn’t help but frown.

It was different.

The idols in “Tahe” had a style similar to “The Legend of Zelda“. They had a rough and simple appearance, more like mascots than “gods”. But the little idol in front of him was clear and elegant, with distinct features.

It was a beautiful woman with downcast eyes and a slight smile. She had long, loosely braided hair that was adorned with flowers and fruit. Her figure was slim and graceful, dressed in a classical gown, standing barefoot in dense shrubs.

Nol was sure that there had never been such an image in “Tahe”.

“Here’s the small idol you asked for.” Seeing that Nol kept staring without responding, Teest raised his brows. “It’s the small idol of the Goddess of Life, Tilia. That’s all I have.”

…Huh? Who?

Nol skeptically took the idol, which felt similar to the ones they designed. Turning it over, he indeed found the game’s logo.

There was no time to be picky now. Nol shoved the idol into Teest’s hand. “Pray to it and say you want to marry me.”

Teest: “.…..”

Teest: “Isn’t there another way?”

“There are, but none with a greater chance of success. I’m not even sure if it’s 100% certain. You try first,” Nol said. “If it works, we can divorce right after we win.” Anyway, if he lost, there would be no afterwards.

Originally, to leave room for things like “a love story between a dragon and a human”, the system didn’t entirely prohibit Players from marrying monsters. If a highly intelligent special monster was willing, they could enter a marital relationship with Players.

As for which monsters one could marry, the system didn’t lock specific species but rather judged by “monster intelligence level”—high-intelligence monsters weren’t weak and could mostly transform into humans.

Nol was betting on his unique situation affecting the “intelligence level”.

Teest sighed, eventually flicking his wrist and tossing the small idol onto the steps before the throne.

The idol transformed into countless platinum-colored sparkles before it even landed. They danced in the air, forming a giant virtual image of that beautiful goddess.

Accompanied by a comforting rustling sound, a translucent covenant appeared before Nol and Teest. Floating in mid-air like feathers, the words emitted a warm glow—

During the marriage, you will gain the skill “Telepathy” that only affects your partner.

During the marriage, your money and items will be unconditionally shared with your other half and divided equally until the end of the marriage.

During the marriage, you and your partner will be in a special team state where attacks on each other are ineffective. 

Note: Quests and experience are not shared, and you may form normal teams with others separately.

……

At the bottom was the signature space. Nol stretched out his finger, signing his name neatly and decisively.

The marriage contract in the game was originally just a variant of team rules, involving only property and skills. Its existence was solely to allow couples—or even close friends—to play more conveniently and happily.

It wasn’t a big deal—not like they were actually getting married. If the Player wanted, they could marry and divorce eight times a day, and no one would care.

Teest, on the other hand, wasn’t so nonchalant. He looked at the blank signature bar for a long time before carefully writing down his name. Nol glanced at it and saw that the spelling of the name was “Teest.”

What a strange name.

After Teest signed the last letter, the contract burst into flames and turned into two beautiful diamond rings. A gentle smile appeared on the phantom of the statue, and it gradually disappeared, revealing a baffled Lich behind it.

Nol hung the diamond ring on his thumb bone, and instead of opening his mouth, he sent his voice directly to Teest’s mind:

[Done.]

Teest shoved the ring into his waist bag, not hiding the doubt on his face.

Without further explanation, Nol threw an image at him. Teest seemed to realize something, and his eyes widened slightly.

[“Telepathy” is perfect for command,] Nol silently conveyed. [It’s inappropriate to shout in front of the Lich.]

[You want to command me?] Teest intuitively understood the skill.

[I know all of this guy’s moves and can help you judge safe spaces. I’ll just tell you where it’s safe; reaction and evasion depend on you alone—this is your only defense,] Nol stated calmly.

[Also, if you can master the timing of the counterattack, you can disrupt the Lich’s spellcasting, causing magic backfire—this will be your offensive means. The opportunity to counterattack lasts only a fraction of a second, and it must be faced head-on. Like defense, I judge, you execute.]

A smile appeared on Teest’s lips.

[Oh, I get it. If you judge wrong or if I react too slowly, I’m done,] he concluded. [Very exciting. What about my weapon?]

[Use my leg bone,] Nol replied. [I’ll mostly be in the safe zone, and it can regenerate. Since attacks between us now have no effect, using my bone won’t harm me.]

His bones were products of the Dragon Tomb—extremely durable. Although durability wasn’t considered a monster attribute, Nol decided to construct his body with “high-quality material”. Indeed, they came in handy now.

[…Wait, did you say you’ll “mostly be in the safe zone”?] Teest caught the critical point.

[With my current condition, I can cast a small healing spell every five minutes. But it only relieves fatigue. The healing power is limited.]

[That means you’ll have to frequently leave the safe area, and the Lich will undoubtedly attack you first.]

Nol didn’t answer immediately. He reached out, pulled Teest’s chest strap, and while Teest was stunned, Nol took off his head, tied it tightly, and swung it like a meteor hammer—

His head left the safe zone and flew back in less than two seconds.

[The small healing spell can be cast instantly. I won’t let it catch on.] Nol reattached his head. [Any other questions?]

For a moment, both Teest and the Lich had particularly complicated expressions.

[No,] Teest answered. Though his expression said otherwise.

Nol could guess what Teest was wondering about—

Undead monsters couldn’t possibly use healing spells. Furthermore, healing spells were light magic and could harm the undead. Even if Nol were the caster, he would still get hurt.

With Nol’s current mana, a small healing spell could restore Teest’s 100 HP. Considering the defense of a skeleton soldier, Nol would lose 80 HP himself, with his total HP being 81.

Luckily, HP would regenerate in the safe zone. As long as he carefully controlled the casting rhythm, he could barely act as a healer.

During this time, Nol had to constantly observe the battlefield.

Calculate status values, prepare spells, convey attack and defense instructions. He had to multitask without a flaw.

The plan was very extreme, and Nol even prepared comforting words for Teest. But Teest didn’t ask anything. As if facing an ordinary enemy, the white-haired knight touched the leg bone in his hand and leaped down from the throne.

The Lich had had enough of these two on-the-spot schemers, who were flirting with each other, and raised his hand to unleash an AOE spell.

Nol sat on the throne, overseeing everything. The moment the Lich raised his hand, he imprinted the attack trajectory into Teest’s mind.

Teest pivoted on the spot, his long hair sweeping through the air. The red bursts of light exploded around him like tiny fireworks. It didn’t look like Teest was dodging; it looked like they were intentionally avoiding him.

The Lich was clearly unsatisfied and forcefully cast another AOE spell. Water in the hall churned, and hundreds of arm-length ice spikes formed in mid-air, stabbing at Teest from all directions.

The Lich seemed like an experienced and skilled performer. As the ice spike spell took shape, it pressed down with both hands, and a huge rock fell from the ceiling with a rumble.

The ice spikes scratched Teest’s arm, and blood gushed out in an instant.

At the same time, a healing spell’s glow flashed, and the deepest wound vanished without a trace. Teest acted as if he felt no pain. He elegantly spun backward, and the huge rock landed right by his heel.

AOE spells, physical attacks, magical attacks, AOE spells…

The Lich’s attacks were getting faster and faster. The white-haired knight was like a snowflake in a gust of wind, seemingly able to melt at a single touch, yet it remained elusive.

Always just a bit short, always missing by that little bit.

Worse still, the knight would occasionally flash in front of him, accurately dealing magical backfire. It was nothing but a filthy insect, daring to harm his noble body.

Between his attacks, the Lich would pause and glance at the throne.

A shabby skeleton was sitting up straight, with its will-o’-wisps eyes burning fiercely in its eye sockets. Just a skeleton soldier; an insignificant minor character. But the Lich had an intuition that everything was connected to it. The knight was only human, tender as a young grapevine in early autumn. There should not be a human in the world—at least not a living one—who could understand his fighting style so well.

Since those two guys conjured rings out of thin air, his once imminent victory had become uncertain.

“Who are you?” Valdorlock yelled at the skeleton, looking past the knight.

He searched his lengthy memories, trying to find a match, but found nothing.

Nol ignored him, busy directing Teest’s movements. After more than an hour had passed, they had whittled the Lich’s HP down by about 5%.

At this rate, Teest would have to attack non-stop for over thirty six hours. “Tahe” utilized the principle of dreams; an hour in the game was only ten minutes in reality. Even so, the length of this battle was still frightening.

Their fight had only just begun.

The Lich withdrew his gaze unhappily. No answer was necessary; once he had dealt with the knight, there would be plenty of time. Yes, he couldn’t catch that slippery little knight, but the Lich was merely annoyed, not panicked.

Wounds could be healed, stamina could be recovered, but human concentration had its limits. The knight had to maintain focus during high-intensity combat; one mistake would cost him his life. The question then arose: How long could a fragile living person endure?

Six hours.

A mocking smile hung from the Lich’s lips. Teest was bombarded by AOE magic, and blood started to blossom on him.

Twelve hours.

Teest stood above the water with small wounds covering his body. His coarse shirt was soaked with blood, and the blood mingled with the cold water, dripping down his pale fingertips. His silver hair was also stained with blood, making him look like a handsome ghost drifting there.

But he was still standing; his golden eyes sparkling with excitement.

Eighteen hours.

The Lich felt uneasy. The skeleton on the throne made it worried, and the knight before it filled it with doubt.

For eighteen continuous hours, with countless judgments made in fractions of a second, apart from the unavoidable scratches, his opponent hadn’t made a single mistake. Whether it was the skeleton’s control over the knight’s state or the knight’s mental power, all could be described as “terrifying”.

What exactly was their background?

……

Teest shook the leg bone in his hand, splattering blood into the standing water so it wouldn’t be so slippery.

Another flash of white light enveloped him, erasing the cold and fatigue from blood loss. Teest didn’t even look at his own condition; his eyes were fixed on one place—

The Lich’s skin was peeling off, exposing the dark red, shriveled flesh, and his HP was down to 23%.

Now his anger was visible to the naked eye.

Unlike his initial casual approach, the Lich’s casting speed was approaching its limit. Countless brutal spells followed one after another, enough to kill him hundreds or thousands of times in an instant.

“How about it? Ready to let us go?” Teest dodged a series of black magic circles and spoke for the first time in the battle. “Honestly, we didn’t mean to provoke you. e just got lost—”

“Sacrilege against the throne, insulting me. Either one is a capital offense!” the Lich shouted sternly.

Teest shrugged. “So not letting you kill is an insult to you, alright then.”

“A knight without a master naturally doesn’t understand what ‘honor’ is.” The Lich grinned, revealing his rotten teeth.

“So you have a master then?”

“I am forever loyal to my king.” The Lich spread his hands, and two head-sized balls of black light appeared in his palms, crawling with dark red arcs like lightning. A chilling power spread, continuously creating ripples on the water’s surface.

“How loyal.” Teest smiled. “What’s your king’s name?”

“A foolish question. Listen well. The owner of this throne, the ruler of my life, his name is—”

The Lich’s voice stopped abruptly, and even the attacks from his hands halted.

“…I don’t remember,” he muttered dreamily a few seconds later. “I can’t recall.”

Teest burst into mocking laughter. With his body covered in blood, it made his laughter seem particularly scornful.

“You’re no better than me, a Lich that forgets his master,” he said cheerfully, even casually stuffing a piece of jerky into his mouth.

Lich Valdorlock raised his hand, erupting into an angry scream.

Thousands of shadow bolts, torrents of ice spikes, and ominous black light charged straight at Teest.

Nol gritted his teeth, racked his brains, and calculated the evasion space with all his might. If he weren’t so far away, he would want to grab Teest by the collar and shake him—why did you deliberately provoke him?

He almost instantly gave the location to dodge, but Teest didn’t move.

The white-haired knight lowered his hands and stood still. His pupils reflected the rapidly approaching magical brilliance.

A chill ran down Nol’s spine. Was Teest tired and trying to forcefully log out?

The blood-streaked figure was engulfed by light and shadow. The lich bent its mouth into a mocking smile, and the next moment, its whole face froze.

“You…”

In the blink of an eye, the Lich Valdorlock’s HP rapidly depleted, and countless cracks appeared on his surface. He had no time to voice his question before he exploded into ashes in an instant.

Black ashes drifted, and a palm-sized black box fell into the water, causing ripples to spread in circles.

The battle ended without warning; the noise of fighting that filled the hall vanished instantly, leaving the entire space eerily empty.

In a rare moment, Nol was stunned.

Teest wobbled as he stood in place. His exposed skin—including his face—was all torn and bloody. Nol hurriedly cast a healing spell. Teest lifted his bloodstained face, smiled nonchalantly, and tossed a small brown object to him.

“For you,” he said.

Nol caught it instinctively; it was a piece of jerky—

[Monster Jerky [Homemade]: After consumption, the user’s HP drops to 1, reflecting all damage received within 5 seconds.

※ The rebound damage will be calculated based on the enemy’s defense.]

Nol was momentarily speechless.

For intelligent opponents, this kind of trick would, at most, work once.

To defeat the enemy with one blow, Teest had to understand the Lich’s defense reduction, spell power, and remaining HP like the back of his hand and ensure that the opponent attacked him like mad within five seconds.

To estimate the Lich’s attributes, Teest had patiently fought for over twenty hours. To force the Lich to attack heavily, he had also deliberately provoked him with words… Thinking about it, this guy had been talking to the Lich even before the fight officially began.

“What’s that saying again? Husband and wife should help each other.” Teest unevenly walked towards the throne. “I can’t always be your puppet, honey.”

He panted as he stepped on the stairs, not standing steady, and fell forward. Nol rushed over to catch him, but unfortunately, the skeleton soldier wasn’t robust, and the two ended up in a heap on the stairs.

Hot blood soaked Nol’s bones.

Up close, Teest’s various wounds were incredibly horrifying. There shouldn’t be such injuries in the game, Nol thought, but so far, too many “things that shouldn’t exist in the game” had appeared.

However—

[Lich Valdorlock has been slain.]

The system prompt sounded normally, and a soft female voice once again entered their heads.

[You have completed the special quest: The Fallen Guardian.]

[Beginning reward calculation.]


The author has something to say:

<<Shocking, a man is actually flirting with a skeleton in the underground! The only witness was silenced!>>

The Lich, in heaven, resentfully submitted.

————————————

Though not very important, a brief explanation is still needed:

The Lich quest was accepted by the two of them separately. When they started the fight, they were in a special team-up status, and the damage was counted as team damage.

So, even though Nol didn’t directly attack the Lich, he still completed the mission.


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