Chapter 45
Chapter 45
“Fire!” the curly-haired man roared, his eyes wide with terror. “Now!”
Gunshots erupted. The wooden door was riddled with holes.
Splinters flew with every shot. The nearby glass shattered too, crashing to the floor.
Light streamed in. There was no sound from outside. The men didn’t stop until their magazines were empty.
They held their guns with numb hands. Their breathing was clearly audible in the room.
Liu Wenhe, who had dived for cover with his arms over his head, peered out from under the table. “Well? Is he dead?”
Zhao Xiuming’s languid, amused reply came from beyond the door. “Nope.”
The ruined door swung open. In panic, the curly-haired man fired again, hitting Zhao Xiuming squarely between the eyebrows with his remaining bullet.
Zhao Xiuming’s head snapped back, dragging his body half a step backward.
Liu Wenhe smiled. He failed to notice that the man who had fired wasn’t pleased at all. Instead, terror made him drop his gun.
“All that bluffing. One little bullet shut him up.” Liu Wenhe laughed and clapped.
The sharp applause lasted only a few beats before his hands began to tremble instead.
Zhao Xiuming remained in the same position long after being shot, never falling. His upper body arched backward, his hands clawing red marks into his neck.
A strange rasp came from his throat. Before their eyes, sickly blue veins spread beneath his pale skin. Long tentacles emerged from his open mouth.
His struggling hands dropped to his sides and swayed limply. The jade prayer beads at his wrist clinked.
Clink… clink…
Suddenly, Zhao Xiuming raised a hand to straighten his head and neck. He stood upright, smiling, and looked directly at Liu Wenhe, who was hiding behind everyone else.
At last, they could see his face clearly. His split mouth curved into a smile, revealing unnaturally sharp fangs. Black tentacles filled his mouth, a horrifying sight.
He was a… monster!
The men in the room panicked. Some tried to flee or hide; others steeled themselves and came forward to fight.
Ever since acquiring the power of an anomaly in the hospital instance, Zhao Xiuming had kept it suppressed inside his body instead of using items to purge it entirely. Now it came in handy.
At some point, black mold had spread throughout the room. It drank every drop of the fresh red blood that spilled. With tentacles blocking the doorway, no one could escape.
Zhao Xiuming didn’t share the anomalous doctors’ bad habit of tearing flesh apart. Tentacles extending from his body pierced his enemies’ hearts directly, swift and efficient.
Whether they cursed or begged, his expression remained indifferent. He showed no mercy.
The curly-haired man broke down and screamed, “You’re an evil monster! What kind of messenger are you? You’re an evil spirit bewitching people!”
Zhao Xiuming tilted his head and withdrew the uncomfortable tentacles from his mouth. “You’re comparing morals with me?”
The man hadn’t expected an answer. He was about to argue when Zhao Xiuming coiled a tentacle around his neck.
As he suffocated, he saw Zhao Xiuming smile. He even sounded a little shy. “I just thought it was fun.”
“But if you insist on a reason…”
Zhao Xiuming’s expression changed in an instant. He fell coldly silent, staring into the man’s eyes as if hesitating over what to say.
At last, he spoke. “Other people were locked in that room before me.”
“As for your sins…”
The man’s eyes began to redden. With Zhao Xiuming’s voice in his ears, memories flashed through his mind.
He thought he was hallucinating. The vengeful spirits of those he had killed floated around him, watching hungrily, waiting for him.
Zhao Xiuming sounded genuinely puzzled, his voice calm. “Do you really need me to judge them?”
He gently caught the man’s collapsing body and let him die in his arms.
With a thud, the corpse hit the floor. The tentacle had released it, and Zhao Xiuming had let go too.
As he rose, he stroked the dead man’s neck, an odd look crossing his face.
It was an eager, experimental sort of interest. Zhao Xiuming touched the wound on his forehead, healed after the bullet had been removed, then felt his own neck.
Next, he looked at the tentacles under his control and tried to wind one around his own throat.
The System spoke in his mind, his tone unreadable. [Little Darling has dealt with the people outside.]
[He’ll be here any moment.]
[Do you want to see a whale?]
[There are a few bottles of good liquor hidden here.]
[There’s a sound system on the roof.]
[Don’t you want to hear what kind of music is popular here?]
Among the corpses, Liu Wenhe was scared shitless. He understood all too clearly that Zhao Xiuming was insane.
He didn’t just kill other people. When the mood took him, he even turned on himself.
As if losing interest, Zhao Xiuming released his neck and returned to normal. He didn’t so much as glance at Liu Wenhe.
Terrified for his life, Liu Wenhe mumbled, “I’ve never killed anyone. Nobody’s died by my hand. I’ve never hurt anyone, I swear.”
But his hands kept moving, fishing things from inside his clothes: Buddhist amulets, a Guanyin figure, protective charms.
He even tossed out a cross, pressing his palms together and gesturing at Zhao Xiuming.
He seemed to have quite a collection of faiths. No, in truth, Liu Wenhe believed in nothing.
Otherwise, In the Name of God would have stripped him of his reason long ago.
Noticing that Zhao Xiuming seemed listless and disinclined to move, Liu Wenhe seized his chance. He sprang up and ran for the door.
Zhao Xiuming watched from inside, making no move to follow.
Four or five seconds later, a tall figure appeared in the doorway.
He still wore the same overcoat and gas mask.
He was very tall. Lifting Liu Wenhe took him no effort at all.
Liu Wenhe didn’t even dare struggle. Limp as a dead dog, he sobbed uncontrollably. “What are you? Why did you come for me?”
“Don’t be afraid.” Zhao Xiuming looked utterly tired. Bored, he nudged a handgun by his foot. “We can talk.”
“Negotiating is what you do best, isn’t it?”
“Use that silver tongue to convince me. This is your chance to live.”
Zhao Xiuming looked at the sky, the ground, the corpses beside him, anywhere but at the figure in the doorway.
Liu Wenhe thought they meant to tie him up and torture him for information. That reassured him considerably.
If they had a use for him, he wouldn’t die just yet.
Perhaps he really could find a way to survive. He hadn’t expected the masked man holding him to be so ruthless.
A few screams later, both his arms and legs were broken.
The masked man carried him in one hand and followed Zhao Xiuming toward the roof.
As they climbed higher, the view widened, and Liu Wenhe’s heart sank.
He discovered there was no one left alive on his turf. The man he had sent for help lay dead downstairs.
The more critical things became, the clearer Liu Wenhe’s mind grew. He had lived on the edge of a blade. Now he searched for a way out, raking through the past for anything that might keep him alive.
On the roof, he was hurled face-first onto the ground.
He struggled to lift his blood-smeared face and shouted, “I didn’t want to kidnap you! It was Huang Jinsheng! Huang Jinsheng asked for you by name!”