Song Zang’s expression turned grave, but he said nothing, because, to his disbelief, he realized he had actually felt a trace of fear.
That was unreasonable.
He was not even afraid of death. So why would a malicious gaze make his heart race? Why would the strange movement beneath him break him out in a cold sweat and send chills down his back?
Something was deliberately plucking at fear nerves that had long since withered into silence.
This baseless terror spreading through him felt so hollow and ominous. He knew perfectly well it was false, yet it still left him unbearably uneasy. His heart pounded violently, as though it would leap from his chest in the next second and force open his constricted throat.
Precisely because of that, he could not expose what was happening.
One person being afraid was no big deal. But if everyone were forced into an endless spiraling abyss of terror… that would become troublesome.
Ripples churned inside the pitch-black handprint, producing layer upon layer of muddy waves. A tiny pink tentacle gradually became visible, its densely packed miniature suckers expanding and contracting like those of a juvenile octopus.
It was very clever. Rather than exposing its entire body, it wrapped itself around Song Zang’s ankle one coil at a time, clinging tightly to his trembling skin while maliciously fiddling with the golden anklet hidden beneath his trouser leg.
Song Zang curled into himself, face deathly pale. He cautiously shifted his ankle, trying to evade the sticky, slippery tentacle, but it was completely useless.
“What’s wrong?”
Yin Chen set down the bench and immediately noticed that something was wrong with Song Zang the moment he turned around. He strode over, not even bothering with the expensive cane he had dropped on the floor.
“I want to go back. Carry me back…” Song Zang lowered his head. His trembling voice sounded broken and helpless, threaded with the faintest trace of tears. “I don’t like it here.”
“All right.”
Yin Chen did not ask a single question. He roughly ripped away the mostly decorative restraints on the wheelchair, scooped Song Zang up horizontally, turned, and left.
Sister Pudu, abandoned behind them, stared blankly for several seconds before sighing helplessly. She said to Xu Wei Ran, “Ignore the others for now. Move Levis into the basement of the West Wing and tie him up securely.”
“Yes, Sister.”
Xu Wei Ran’s attitude toward her remained unchanged. He smiled and efficiently hoisted the unconscious bishop onto his shoulder.
“Mother of God, he stinks.” Lin Xing followed behind, carrying Levis’s heavy, dangling legs with a grimace.
The corner of Sister Pudu’s lips curved. “By the time I’m finished with him, he’ll smell even worse. Prepare yourselves.”
Lin Xing glanced back at her and chuckled. “Sister, you’ve changed.”
“Mm. I’m sorry. I’m vicious, selfish, and have never been a good person.” Sister Pudu calmly straightened her black veil. “Once I personally see that my child is safe and unharmed, I will kill myself to atone for my crimes. As for now… I stand on your side. I have the final say in Lipton. There’s no need to be overly wary of me.”
“All right, Boss Lady. Let us admire your methods.”
…
Meanwhile, Song Zang had already been carried back to his room in the East Wing.
Yin Chen’s expression was icy. Without warning, he tossed Song Zang onto the bed and yanked off his trousers.
His pale legs were exposed to the cool air and trembled faintly with fear. The tentacle had stretched astonishingly far, one end buried deep inside the muddy black handprint while the other stubbornly remained coiled around his ankle.
Yin Chen’s expression turned even uglier. Without a word, he summoned his saber and sliced the slick pink tentacle in half.
Thick, strange red slurry oozed from the severed limb. The damaged tentacle tensed and spasmed, its suckers writhing madly in pain as though preparing to bite through the tender skin of Song Zang’s ankle.
But Yin Chen gave it no opportunity. The blade moved so fast that afterimages appeared, and in the blink of an eye, the remaining tentacle had been chopped into a puddle of mangled flesh.
Sticky red fluid covered the snow-white bedding, wet, rank, uncanny, and ominous. Yet the trembling Song Zang himself was completely unharmed. Only his ankle retained a conspicuous ring of pink and densely clustered sucker marks.
Yin Chen gripped his ankle without a word, removed the golden chain, then… directly bought the strongest disinfecting cleanser and foaming body wash from the Points Shop and began scrubbing Song Zang’s calf in sullen silence.
He scrubbed it three whole times without rinsing, using particular force. Song Zang suspected his pores were about to be disinfected into dissolution. His whole leg reeked intensely of milky orange fragrance, practically marinated in body wash.
He stared at Yin Chen numbly with a resentful look until the lunatic finally stopped, still somewhat reluctant to do so.
Yin Chen remained silent. He wiped away the remaining foam, carefully fastened the golden chain again, then kneaded Song Zang’s soft calf with warm fingers and openly rubbed it several times.
“…Yin Chen, are you scared?”
In the end, Song Zang was the one who quietly broke the silence.
“Scared? I’m angry.” Yin Chen sneered, his tone unfriendly.
Song Zang bit his lip and tried to pull back his abused calf, only for Yin Chen to tighten his grip.
“Then why are you angry?” he could only continue asking softly.
Yin Chen looked down at him with a half-smile, suddenly tilted his head, and bit hard into the side of his pale leg.
Really hard. As though he intended to gnaw off a piece of flesh alive, leaving a clear circle of bruised-red tooth marks on his poor, delicate skin.
Song Zang froze on the spot, then exploded in shock. “What are you doing?!”
“That old man harassed you and you didn’t tell me. Your trousers rotted and you didn’t tell me. Some dead octopus inexplicably hatched and you still didn’t tell me. And you even let it touch you, let it touch the gift I gave you? Hm?” Yin Chen pinned his leg from above, his phoenix eyes sharp. “Song Zang, what exactly are you trying to do?”
“Because you had important things to handle and I didn’t want to get in the way, but I was scared!”
Song Zang tore open the cumbersome straitjacket, ripped apart the loose sleeves wrapped around his waist, then grabbed a pillow and hurled it straight at Yin Chen’s face.
He furiously counterattacked. “There’s something wrong with it. It made me irrationally terrified. I was so scared I couldn’t speak and practically frightened to death! I didn’t want everyone else getting infected and going crazy together, and you’re still scolding me! Fine, scold me if you want, but you even bit me!”
Yin Chen did not dodge. He took the soft white pillow directly to the face. Immediately afterward, he removed his coat, climbed onto the bed on one knee without permitting any argument, dragged the furious Song Zang into his arms, and hugged him tightly.
“What are you doing?”
“Not afraid anymore?” Yin Chen stroked his cold nape and asked quietly as though nothing had happened.
“Of course not.”
“Good. Anger can completely drive away fear. I deliberately made you angry. You’re fine now.”
Song Zang looked up and glared at him. “Don’t try to fool me. You used the opportunity to bite me because you wanted to vent!”
“Mm. I was wrong. Sorry.” Yin Chen surrendered instantly, yet blatant greed surfaced in his narrow eyes. “But your legs are beautiful. Like white-cloud cake.”
“…Pervert.”
Yin Chen did not consider the evaluation an insult. He readily accepted it and stared intently into Song Zang’s glossy black eyes. “I think I’m starting to crave your body, Song Zang. You look very good without clothes. I want to eat you, or let you eat me. Either is fine.”
Such outrageous words came out of Yin Chen’s mouth as casually as if he were saying he wanted a soda.
How exactly had things developed to this point?
Song Zang did not understand, but he had already been forced into emotional stability and could no longer keep reacting in shock.
He pressed his lips together, bent his right leg, and planted it against Yin Chen’s recently oversensitive abdominal muscles, deliberately pressing down a little.
A restrained muffled groan drifted out. Song Zang raised a hand and poked Yin Chen’s warm face, warning, “You’re not allowed to say things like that in front of the baby. I promised God I’d take good care of him.”
“I don’t want him anymore. I only want you. Isn’t that allowed?” Yin Chen said quietly, sounding inexplicably aggrieved.
“Moods fluctuate during pregnancy. I understand.” Song Zang patted his hair. “Want to bite me again?”
Yin Chen did not move and continued sounding wronged. “You’re already angry at me. It’s all my fault. I’m not qualified.”
“…Yin Chen, memorizing manipulative green-tea lines won’t help you. You don’t even look like that kind of person.”
Elio’s Note: “Green tea” is Chinese internet slang for someone who puts on a sweet, innocent, vulnerable act while manipulating people. Song Zang is calling out Yin Chen’s attempt to weaponize fake pitifulness.
“Then what am I supposed to do? I really do crave your body now. Every time I help you change clothes, I become extremely thirsty and hot all over. I asked Lan Yu Heng, and she said it’s because I want to do…”
“Shut up! Don’t say it!”
Song Zang’s heart jerked, and he hurriedly cut off the direction of Yin Chen’s increasingly wild speech.
Yin Chen stared at him gloomily and pressed his lips together as though deeply wounded. “Mm.”
When had this person learned to alternate between hard and soft tactics?
Song Zang took a disbelieving breath, avoided Yin Chen’s deliberately vulnerable gaze, and gritted his teeth. “In this world, two men fooling around together will go to hell. If you want to meet Satan, don’t drag me along.”
“Is that so?” Yin Chen was not discouraged. He pulled Song Zang’s hand over and lifted the hem of his shirt with it, showing off his perfect figure as temptation. “Then in the next world, can we try it? I really want to.”
Song Zang’s throat felt slightly dry, and the temptation was becoming difficult to withstand. He followed Yin Chen’s lead and began touching him, yet still verbally refused with conviction. “I’m very fragile. It would hurt me to death.”
“Why would it hurt? I heard… there’s only addictive pleasure.” Yin Chen looked confused.
Song Zang paused and looked away. “Yin Chen, do you know how two men are supposed to do it?”
“Not really, but that doesn’t matter. You can teach me.” Yin Chen detected the loosening of Song Zang’s stance. His lips curved in victory as he hugged him even tighter. “If you’re afraid of pain, then let me be the one who hurts. I can withstand biting very well.”
“…We’ll talk about it in the next instance.”
“You promised. You’re not allowed to trick me. Otherwise, I’ll be very angry.”
Yin Chen smiled happily, no longer wearing the aggrieved expression he had deliberately put on earlier. He leisurely bit Song Zang’s burning ear tip, his canine sinking deeply into the delicate skin as he rubbed it suggestively.
Then Song Zang shoved him off the bed and directly kicked him out of the bedroom.
Song Zang lay on the bed without saying a word, completely enveloped by bedding and sheets soaked in Yin Chen’s scent, with nowhere to escape.
No one knew that Song Zang had long since craved Yin Chen’s body too.
But the very instant that thought had first surfaced, Song Zang suspected there was something wrong with his nerves, perhaps some distorted version of Stockholm syndrome…
Because he would never submit to violence or coercion, yet his gaze was still uncontrollably drawn to Yin Chen. He even wanted to see what Yin Chen looked like at his most vulnerable and pitiful.
He wanted to bully this omnipotent, powerful existence until he fell apart and trembled all over. It would be even better if a few scorching tears fell.
That was the malicious desire Song Zang had hidden for a long time.
He cared about Yin Chen. He did not want Yin Chen to be hurt, so he exercised extreme restraint.
But this time, he had not done anything at all.
Yin Chen had personally volunteered such an excellent suggestion. That could hardly be blamed on him.
Outside the bedroom door, Yin Chen cheerfully reported in a warm voice that he was going to find Sister Pudu and accelerate the plot, solve Bishop Levis’s secret as quickly as possible, and work hard to clear the instance soon…
“Rest properly. The butler is next door, so you’re safe. I’ll bring you roast goose this afternoon. Do you still want cake?”
“I want honey cake.”
“Okay.”
Curled beneath the blanket, Song Zang rubbed his burning ear and quietly smiled.
＊
When Yin Chen returned to the basement in an excellent mood, Levis had already been tortured into a complete mental breakdown.
His refined, lofty mask had been utterly torn apart. He lay beneath the heavy hem of Sister Pudu’s black skirt, screaming and begging like a pig being slaughtered.
“What did you do?” Yin Chen asked with interest.
“My lord, I put a small amount of chili powder inside his rear. It comes from the heaven peppers across the distant coast,” Sister Pudu said with a smile. “I wanted His Excellency the Bishop to experience transcendental pleasure from Heaven.”
Yin Chen raised a brow. “Creative.”
The shattered bishop sobbed uncontrollably and no longer dared resist.
Because Sister Pudu had threatened that if he remained stubborn, she would replace the chili powder with strong-smelling cheese… then lock him inside a cage with several plump rats and let them enjoy a wonderful banquet.
Levis was scared out of his soul and wished he could die on the spot.
He confessed. He confessed everything.
The bishop who looked so respectable on the outside was actually a madman who committed every kind of evil imaginable.
Back when he had served as a priest in a small village, he used his authority to oppress the poor and kept young boys for his own sexual exploitation under various pretexts.
After being promoted to the Diocese of Carlisle, he met Father Riley, who was equally young. The darkness inside each man took a different form, yet they immediately recognized kindred spirits and got along extraordinarily well.
That was right. Father Riley genuinely had been his closest friend. However, Riley was secretly a Satanist hiding within the Church, and his lifelong ambition was to locate the legendary Devil’s Bible, sign a contract with Lucifer, and become Lucifer’s earthly representative.
Bishop Levis’s own goal was much simpler. He had clawed his way out of an impoverished village and had suffered enough meals of nothing but cabbage and peas. All he wanted was wealth, power, and beautiful people.
Using temptation worthy of the devil himself, Father Riley introduced Levis to a wealthy merchant who was also a Satanist. The three entered into cooperation, helping and exploiting one another.
The merchant built networks and influence behind the scenes, quietly creating momentum to help the seemingly spotless, “God-favored” Levis climb step by step into the upper ranks of the Church.
In return, Levis concealed the merchant’s many crimes and passed him confidential information and resources from the Church’s upper levels.
At the same time, as bishop of an entire diocese, Levis finally gained the authority to decide where the priests beneath him would be stationed.
Levis conveniently assigned Father Riley to Lipton Asylum and granted him endless freedom, allowing Riley to search for the legendary Devil’s Bible however he pleased and, equally freely… use the ignorant patients inside the asylum for all manner of experiments involving the summoning of evil spirits.
Levis was actually an atheist. He did not believe angels or demons existed, was not afraid of Hell, and certainly did not fear divine condemnation.
As for whatever Riley was messing around with? They were only lunatics anyway. No one would care if they died.
Yet on the night before rumors of the “Holy Son’s birth” appeared, Father Riley had sent Levis a letter.
In it, Riley excitedly declared that he had discovered many traces left behind by visitors from beyond and by devils, and that Satan’s revival was close at hand.
Cold sweat poured from Levis’s body when he read it. Combined with the milky-white halo that appeared across the night sky, he could no longer sit still and immediately decided to personally visit Riley and demand an explanation.
But the moment he opened the confessional door, the decayed corpse of Riley, clearly dead for a long time and in a horrifying state, suddenly appeared before him…
Mystical power truly existed. It actually existed!
Levis fainted from terror on the spot. The thought of all the evil he had committed, of vengeful ghosts hunting him in the future, of suffering endless torture in Hell and being cruelly dismembered by devils caused his already taut nerves to snap completely. He lost control of his bladder and bowels from sheer terror.
“That’s it?” Lin Xing frowned.
“There’s more, there’s more! I know lots of secrets! Don’t kill me, I don’t want to go to Hell… The wealthy merchant who sponsored me is named Hunter Opali. He made his fortune selling jewelry. He keeps a witch mistress in Nar Town. They’re all members of some mysterious organization called the Saint Roland Cross Society. They have multiple hideouts and no permanent headquarters. And, and…”
Sister Pudu lifted a fat rat and pressed it against Bishop Levis’s forehead. “And what? Hurry up.”
Insane hunger churned in the rat’s scarlet eyes. Levis cried even louder and trembled as he said, “They already found a clue to the Devil’s Bible, boohoo… The secret treasure left by the cardinal before his death is that book!”
“So? You’re still saying useless nonsense. Where exactly is the Bible?” Lin Xing grew agitated and impatiently tore at his own clothing, looking ready to give Levis a couple of heavy punches.
Yin Chen noticed his ADHD-like abnormality and fell into thought. Then the corner of his lips cheerfully lifted again, and with great warmth and friendliness, he punched Lin Xing first, swiftly sending him into the peaceful sleep of a baby.
Seeing this, Xu Wei Ran and Li Ming hugged each other and trembled, unsure what kind of episode Yin Chen was having now and not daring to speak.
“Boohoo… Sacrifice the blood of Lucifer’s son, and the Bible can be summoned out… I’ve told you everything. Please don’t kill me…”
Yin Chen smiled. “I don’t believe you’ve told us everything. Sister, please keep torturing him for another few days.”
“Gladly, my lord.”
Sister Pudu eagerly agreed, an excited cold light flashing through her eyes.
Then Yin Chen leisurely began assigning their next tasks. The obvious smile on his lips still had not disappeared, and even his voice was friendlier than usual.
“Xu Wei Ran, carry Lin Xing back to my reception room. Li Ming, find Zhang Ming Shen and have him search the priest’s room with you. Be careful. Bring the Imperial heraldic emblems Song Zang drew.”
“Got it. Um… did something good happen to you?” Xu Wei Ran hoisted Lin Xing’s heavy body onto his shoulder and craned his head curiously, unable to resist asking.
“Song Zang agreed to sleep with me,” Yin Chen answered with a smile, then threatened them with that same smile. “Don’t ask anything else, and don’t spread it around. Otherwise, I’ll chop all of you to death.”
Xu Wei Ran: …
The road from the basement back to the East Wing suddenly became extraordinarily long and torturous.
He should never have asked. Truly. He really should not have asked.
＊
Back in the reception room, the butler, who had already learned everything, waited quietly with the infant Sister Rachel had given birth to.
Lucifer’s son was a conveniently timed clue, and the players had already figured out a few things. They could test the theory immediately.
Looking at the angelically beautiful infant in the cradle, Mr. Butler smiled kindly. Under Yin Chen’s approving gaze, he raised a dagger and swiftly nicked the baby’s finger.
Loud crying echoed through the room, and sure enough, an abnormal change followed.
The temperature inside abruptly plummeted. Snow and ice that had been gradually melting in the sunlight froze over again. The sky instantly darkened as thick clouds churned and gathered above the asylum, resembling the wrath of God.
The centuries-old foundations began to shake. Bricks cracked apart one after another, and frigid wind poured madly through the fissures. Lipton Asylum, once warm as spring in every season, plunged into a genuine winter freeze.
Hiding inside the bedroom, Song Zang suddenly discovered that the pair of ruined trousers that had been playing dead on the floor for ages had started wriggling again. The black handprint revived like dry earth receiving rain, and faint slick watery sounds once more harassed his ears.
Song Zang stared expressionlessly at that tiny patch of bottomless darkness, loaded the silver bullets Yin Chen had provided, and chambered his gun.
If anything dared stick its head out again, he could blow it apart at any moment.
Meanwhile, outside the bedroom.
Xu Wei Ran rubbed the goosebumps rising across his arms and muttered, “We haven’t even performed the sacrifice yet. All we did was cut his finger, and this happened?”
He urged Li Ming in the group chat to quickly find any possible sacrificial method.
Li Ming did not respond for a long time, but Lan Yu Heng suddenly began excitedly posting messages in the group.
【Lan Yu Heng: Holy shit, my eyesight came back!!! It only lasts one day, but aaaaah, long live potions! Long live witches!!!】
【Lan Yu Heng: Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, everyone! Hahahaha!】
【Lan Yu Heng: @Xu Wei Ran, you guys need a devil-sacrifice ritual? Give me a second. Gina should have information here.】
Before long, Lan Yu Heng sent them several different sacrifice procedures, every one of them detailed from required materials to the construction of the altar.
Everyone crowded together and studied them for quite some time, eventually selecting the two most likely possibilities. One ritual was for finding objects. The other was for seeking revelation.
The materials needed for object-finding were extremely simple, while the revelation ritual was far more complicated, requiring almost entirely treasures rarely seen in the world, bizarre flesh and blood, and herbs.
That actually suggested the latter had a higher probability of locating the Devil’s Bible. But supplies inside the asylum were scarce. Forget treasures. They barely even had a few herbs associated with heresy…
Just as everyone fell into difficulty, Li Ming hesitated before quietly suggesting, “Why don’t we use the object-finding ritual to locate the materials required for the revelation ritual? Would that work?”
“Holy shit, you’re right! Wife, you’re a genius!”
Xu Wei Ran excitedly shook her thin shoulders while rattling off words nonstop. “Let me check the materials for object-finding. One bottle of black-goat blood, three locks of virgin hair, one newborn fingernail, two poppy seeds, a handful of rosemary… Easy. I’ll go find a goat right now!”
Li Ming pressed her temple, dizzy from being shaken, while Mr. Butler moved even faster and mercilessly tore off one of the infant’s fingernails.
The baby wailed even louder. Every drop of blood flowing from his finger was swiftly collected by the butler in a glass bottle and carefully preserved.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Immediately afterward, three abrupt gunshots rang out from the bedroom. Yin Chen’s expression changed. He spun around, kicked the door open, charged inside, and swiftly placed himself in front of Song Zang.
On the floor, the torn fabric had been soaked in muddy black slurry that continued bubbling upward.
From the center of the black liquid, half of a woman’s head surfaced.
Her skin was pale, her entirely black eyes cold and sinister, and her golden hair was tangled into knots inside the sticky, evil filth.
She slowly turned toward the room outside and stared at Li Ming with a twisted, resentful expression.
She was Rachel.