Chapter 2: Monster
Tentacle, blood, wall, incandescent bulb.
The wall was smeared with grease.
This eighteen-year-old boy’s mind was a tangled mess, unable to scream in that first moment.
What is this?
Xueqiu’s left hand, which had flipped the switch, was pinned tightly to the wall by the tentacle.
A rancid stench of blood flooded his nose, nearly choking him.
Under the incandescent bulb, the dining table was snapped in two.
Soup and rice spilled across the floor, gluing the gauze tablecloth to the concrete.
On the other side of the floor, a pool of blood spread out.
In the center of the blood lay a severed arm, so thin it was skin and bone.
“Is… Grandma…”
Fear surged toward his heart, clogging Xueqiu’s throat.
But he forced those words through gritted teeth.
His only family…
Killed…
Why…
The burst of strength sparked by fear fizzled out.
He felt utterly drained, as if his last ounce of energy had been sucked dry.
Sliding down the wall, he couldn’t kneel on the floor—his left hand was still pinned by the tentacle.
Xueqiu never believed in demons or ghosts.
His grandma had become a devout Christian after his parents died, but none of that mattered now.
That tentacle—ghost or monster—none of it mattered.
The chaotic mess before him, the blood, the severed arm—none of it mattered.
I’m going to die.
His eyes dimmed, lifeless.
The two copies of Wu San were already soaked in blood.
Just minutes ago, they’d been his key to escaping this small city’s shackles.
But none of that mattered now.
His last family member was gone.
Death, huh…
Where do you go after you die…
As the black tentacle slowly reached for his neck, Xueqiu suddenly pondered this.
Buddhism speaks of paradise and eighteen layers of hell.
Christianity has its heaven and hell too.
His grandma used to say those who believed in God would go to heaven after death.
If I die, will I go to hell?
No, after death, there’s probably nothing.
Like pouring hot water on a broken laptop, smashing it with a mallet, grinding it to dust, and scattering it into the sea.
The files inside—every last bit—would vanish forever.
So, do I want to live?
In his daze, this thought crashed into his mind like a car speeding the wrong way on a highway.
Can I live?
What’s the point of living in a world where I’ve lost all my family?
Will it be okay if I live? Can I do it?
The tentacle before him…
Live…
Live…
Live…
The will in his heart surged beyond his control.
A warm current flooded his mind, racing through his body like an electric shock.
He began yanking his hand desperately, ignoring the pain, wrenching it free from the gap between the tentacle and the wall.
Animals instinctively seek survival, and humans, facing death, abandon everything to struggle.
Xueqiu stumbled backward.
His gaze, blurred by grief, sharpened.
Soon, he saw the tentacle clearly under the incandescent bulb.
A monster.
What kind of existence was it?
Pitch-black, blood and dust clung to its jelly-like body.
Thick, long tentacles extended from the top of its form.
Its owner, writhing beside the pool of blood, was…
Chewing.
In a split second, Xueqiu grabbed the two blood-soaked Wu San books and hurled them at the tentacle.
Along with them went shards of porcelain bowls, wooden planks—anything within reach.
The primal instinct to “throw stones,” born in ancient times, was unleashed to its fullest.
But it was all futile.
The books were torn apart.
The porcelain and wood were swallowed by the tentacle’s jelly-like body.
This time, the tentacle gave Xueqiu no chance.
With a whoosh, it shot straight for his chest.
I’m going to die.
Bang!
A deafening crash, like two steel blades colliding at high speed, neither yielding.
Xueqiu opened his tightly shut eyes.
The tentacle was stopped by an external force.
Blocking it was another tentacle, gray and steaming, completely unfamiliar.
It came from the blind spot behind him.
Xueqiu instinctively looked back, but there was nothing there.
At the same moment, the gray tentacle, as rigid as the black one, suddenly went limp.
Then, Xueqiu’s frail body was pierced by the black tentacle in an instant.
A chill spread through his chest.
His body lost all strength.
His blood pressure plummeted the moment he was impaled.
Blood gushed from the wound, a fountain of crimson.
Seconds later, searing pain spread through his entire body.
Pain…
Xueqiu couldn’t even draw a single breath before collapsing.
His vision blurred, fragments of past memories flashing through his mind.
As a child, pestering his father for bedtime stories…
Watching his mother grow stranger, as if she’d become someone else…
Struggling for so long to move past the grief of his parents’ deaths…
His classmates, Jiang Cheng, Su Qingyuan, and…
I’m sorry…
“Xiaoqiu, control your emotions.”
“Xiaoqiu, your mom will be fine. I promise you.”
“Xiaoqiu, your mom and I will be gone for a while. It’s okay—Grandma will take care of you.”
“Qiu’er, study hard. Become a doctor like your dad and save lives…”
Pain, panic, and tension twisted together like three threads braided into one.
His consciousness slowly returned, his eyes barely opening.
Footsteps approached, growing closer.
“Hey, hey, Professor? Can you hear me? No way there’s no signal in Qingtan this time, right?”
“Yeah, I’m in Qingtan. Not late… at least not this time… Don’t worry, it’s just him here, no bystanders.”
“Shadow Ghost? Already taken care of. The guy’s still alive, staring at me right now… No, not some ‘died with eyes open’ nonsense! Ugh, if you don’t believe me, I’ll snap a pic…”
A click sounded.
In his blurry vision, Xueqiu saw someone point a phone at him, lightly pressing the shutter.
“There, that’s the kid. But why’s he look different from the photo? Dyed his hair white too. Is he cosplaying or something? Blood-stained white hair… who’s he supposed to be…”
White hair?
Cough…*
His voice was hoarse and faint.
Strength slowly trickled back into his body.
Xueqiu struggled to get up from the floor but lacked the energy, rolling in the blood and soup-soaked concrete.
“Hey, hey, don’t move yet! I haven’t finished collecting samples. I’ll lose points if I go back like this…”
His vision cleared gradually.
Xueqiu saw he was lying at the feet of a stranger.
A boy, wearing a worn gray jacket, with black hair and a single, prominent tuft sticking up.
He looked about Xueqiu’s age.
Seeing Xueqiu still trying to stand, the boy reached out, helping him sit by the stairs, muttering all the while.
“Look, you wanna get up, I’ll help you up. That’s fair, right? Just put in a good word for me with the Professor when you’re back. Hiss… how about this—say you’re super grateful to your lifesaving senior, Xia Yin. Easy, right?”