Chapter 9

Transforming oneself into a monster…

The girl gazed at the bonfire, lost in thought. The crimson flames danced in her pitch-black eyes, constantly shifting shapes, resembling two ethereal specters.

“This world is already so terrible. If we turn ourselves into monsters, what about the others? Do they still have hope?” she pondered aloud.

The question amused the old man. Carelessly prodding the bonfire with a stick, he casually spoke, “Do you remember the first warning I gave you when you arrived?”

The girl paused, then replied, “I remember, don’t rely on hope.”

“Good that you remember. Here, hope is the doorway to despair. You worry they have no hope, but truth be told, that concept never existed in this world from the beginning.”

The old man tossed the stick into the fire, watching it burn to ashes expressionlessly. “The remaining people can also become monsters if they wish. When everyone becomes a monster, does fear still exist? Does despair still exist?”

The old man turned to his young apprentice, traces of malice subtly appearing in his unfathomable eyes for the first time.

The girl shuddered, choosing to remain silent.

When everyone descends into madness, madness becomes the norm. Unable to eradicate their inner fears and despair, they can only erase themselves.

As the world deteriorates, the humans living within it also deteriorate. They first discard hope, then morality and emotion. They engage in mutual slaughter, self-indulgence, abandoning their very humanity.

They may possess the appearance of humans, but in truth, their hearts have long…

Before the girl could ponder further, the old man sighed softly, “In reality, we are all monsters, whether we change or not.”

The girl clenched her fists abruptly, the joints emitting a sound of strain.

Glancing at her, the old man continued, “If given the chance to return to your original world, could you still live as you did before?”

“If someone approaches you from behind, taps your shoulder, would you turn around and strike off their head?”

“In a conflict, would you resolve the issue or deal with the one causing it?”

“Could you engage in a normal romantic relationship, get married, have children?”

“Could you endure having your husband asleep beside you at night?”

“Are you certain you wouldn’t, in the half-dream, half-awake state, end up strangling him upon hearing his breath?”

“Could you genuinely love your child, without feeling the urge to harm them when they anger you?”

Each question from the old man was like a blade piercing directly into her heart.

The girl shook her head repeatedly, unable to answer, her hands loosening from their clenched state as she silently covered her aching chest.

Even frontline veterans who retreat may suffer from PTSD. How could those constantly teetering on the brink of death forget such terrifying memories?

To survive, they had to stay alert even while sleeping. None of them dared to trust or draw close to each other. When faced with problems, they resorted to violence and slaughter as the first solution. Their personalities had long deteriorated, turning themselves into mere beasts.

How could beasts integrate into civilization? Beasts never had anything to do with civilization!

“Returning home,” such a beautiful phrase. Yet, for their families living in another world, their return might mark the beginning of another disaster.

The girl lowered her head, letting out a powerless sob.

The old man gazed up at the night sky, sighing, “I never once thought of going back. Accompanying you on this journey, watching you grow, that’s all I need to have no regrets.”

“Master!” the girl choked out, her voice filled with emotion.

“No more talking, time is up,” the old man’s expression hardened as he scanned their surroundings.

The girl quickly wiped away her tears and stood up straight.

“Remember, hold on till the end! As long as your will remains strong, those lingering souls won’t be able to possess your body! I’ll protect you!” The old man stood up as well, producing a demon-slaying staff from his sleeve.

“It’s here!”

After a hoarse warning, the thick fog around them began to churn. The dense forest had already been engulfed by the fog imperceptibly, their vision confined to a small area filled with darkness.

They had nowhere to escape!

The girl looked fearfully at the thick fog. It was as black as ink, thick like cotton, rolling in from all directions.

The suffocating sensation caused the girl to gasp heavily, cold sweat trickling down her forehead.

The fog flowed like water, creeping over the damp earth, silently extinguishing the bonfire. The only source of light in the dark vanished, the temperature plummeted sharply, breath turning into frost.

The darkness, like a colossal beast, suddenly swallowed them whole! The girl’s heavy breathing echoed loudly in the eerie silence.

“Master!” Her terrified cry was muffled by the fog, barely audible.

“I’m here,” the old man took out his phone and illuminated the screen, his tone remarkably steady.

The girl, now awakening from her daze, also retrieved her phone from her pocket and activated the flashlight function.

The bright light, tainted by the black fog, turned into a dim grayish hue, casting a pallid glow on her face. Her sunken eye sockets resembled dark voids harboring unspeakable secrets. Watching her master’s uncanny face, her heart raced wildly.

“Ah!” she suddenly screamed.

Behind the old man, the black fog condensed into numerous contorted faces, each with hollow eye sockets and gaping mouths in silent screams. Face after face gnawed at each other, expressing bitterness, akin to hungry ghosts fighting for food.

These dark mists had life! They surged towards the old man, appearing to tear at him, but were repelled half a meter away by the white light emanating from him. Twisting and writhing, they emitted silent screeches, causing eerie gusts of wind that tousled the old man’s hair and robes.

The girl’s heart nearly burst from the fright of this spectacle. Subsequently, she felt gusts of wind blowing behind her as well.

Goosebumps rose on her skin, cold sweat trickling like rain. Without needing to turn around, the girl knew that behind her, a cluster of ghostly faces formed by the black fog must be adhering to her. They were the heated vapors rising from the abyss, as well as the lingering souls and obsessions of those who had perished in its depths. They wandered day and night in this dark forest, seeking bodies to possess.

Simultaneously, they were the prey that the old man and the girl truly sought to capture.

“Now’s the time!”

The old man clearly saw the ghostly faces writhing behind the girl as well. Stepping forward, he grasped her chin, steadying her face adorned with tattoos, swiftly inscribing runes on her smooth forehead with the tip of the demon-slaying staff.

This blank patch of skin was reserved for this moment.

“After writing the two words ‘Summon Soul,’ these remnants will all rush into your body. If you endure, you will become the Ghost King. If you can’t, I’ll complete the final stroke to seal it early. In any case, I’ll ensure you don’t die!”

The old man spoke rapidly, carving the runes even faster. These characters were twisted and complex, unlike any language found in the real world.

After completing the two words “Summon Soul,” the old man swiftly proceeded to carve “Seal,” leaving the final stroke of “Seal” blank.

The true value of sealing her would only be realized once the girl had absorbed all the remnants from the black fog into her body. The last stroke was meant to fall at that precise moment.

The old man sought the most powerful of all spirits, not a defective one. His facial muscles involuntarily twitched, a smile on his lips, yet his eyes betrayed a sinister intent.

The demon-slaying staff pierced her skin, emitting a sizzling sound as if searing at high temperatures. The girl screamed in agony but made no attempt to resist.

The surrounding black fog seemed agitated, churning faster and nearing a boiling point. The ghostly faces floating within the fog contorted in unbearable pain, rushing into the girl’s body.

Leaving that final stroke, the old man quickly stepped back.

He watched in horror as those ghostly faces burrowed into his apprentice’s eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils, voraciously gnawing at her organs and brain. While the girl screamed in agony, he seemed to hear a melody, his face displaying a twisted sense of enjoyment.

…The most horrifying monsters often wear human skin.

The girl finally sensed something amiss with her master and staggered forward, lunging.

“It hurts, it hurts so much! Master, save me!”

She had never imagined such pain existed in the world! It felt like bones shattering inch by inch, nails being peeled off one by one, eyeballs bursting, and countless blades slicing through flesh and skin…

Every pore on the girl’s body was oozing blood, her hands clawing desperately into the soil.

Crawling like a worm, she pleaded, “Master, save me! It’s too painful! It’s really too much! I can’t bear it!”

No one could endure this. Those who experienced such agony often went mad and sought their own end. But dying didn’t matter. The old man only desired a ghostly servant, not a living person.

Struggling and writhing, the girl crawled closer, grabbing onto the old man’s ankle.

“You, you did this to me!” she gasped out in anger.

The old man remained still, silently lowering his gaze, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “From the day I took you as my apprentice, I warned you not to trust anyone, including me. Who can you blame but yourself for not heeding your master’s advice?”

“Heh…” a coarse sound escaped the girl’s shattered throat.

She lifted her face, contorted in agony, and mirrored his mocking smile, revealing a row of teeth stained red with blood. “You’re right, don’t trust anyone. I shouldn’t have trusted you, and you shouldn’t have trusted me either.”

The old man’s eyes flickered slightly, sensing trouble, hastily stepping back.

But it was already too late.

The girl flipped her palm and managed to slip a small hand grenade into the old man’s clean white sock, then swiftly rolled into a nearby dirt pit.

Though the hand grenade wasn’t powerful, it proved more than enough to blast off the old man’s legs. A thunderous explosion resounded, followed by swirling dry leaves and layers of reverberating mist.

Climbing out of the pit, the girl chuckled amidst her heavy breathing.

The old man’s agonizing screams pierced through the fog, drawing the attention of the ghostly faces. His two maimed legs lay in a pile of dry leaves not far away, stark white bones protruding from the stumps.

The intense smell of blood nearly masked the putrid stench emanating from the black fog.

Approaching the old man, the girl’s eyes blazed with murderous intent. Crimson blood soaked the dark runes, making her resemble a charred corpse reborn from the fires of hell.

Having survived to a ripe old age in this world, the old man naturally possessed formidable abilities. Despite lacking his legs, his arms were incredibly strong. He grasped onto a nearby tree, climbing to higher ground with his maimed body in just a few swift movements. His fingers tore through the bark, producing cracking sounds as wood shavings cascaded and danced in the air.

Even without his legs, he moved with ease. Amidst the ghostly faces in the black fog, he seemed more like a phantom himself.

Eyes, ears, mouth, and nose continued to be infiltrated by the remnants, making the girl’s body feel like lead, increasingly heavy. The unimaginable pain tore at her consciousness every passing second.

She could only watch helplessly as the old man grabbed vine after vine, swinging from one tree to another, swiftly escaping.

“F**k you!” the girl cursed in frustration, her crisp voice suddenly carrying a hint of a deeper male tone.

Crawling on the ground, she laboriously raised her right hand, reaching towards her own forehead. Her intentionally long nails were sharpened like knives, ready to carve.

Whoever engraved the final stroke of “Seal” would control this body filled with evil spirits. The girl had long unraveled her master’s most significant secret. Ironically, that old man had arrogantly warned her not to trust anyone.

“You want me to be your ghostly servant, old man? Take a good look at yourself in the mirror,” the girl chuckled sarcastically, her eyes filled with contempt.

Sensing her next move, the dense fog accelerated its intrusion, splitting into two tendrils that coiled around the girl’s hands like pythons.

The final stroke of the seal never landed.

The girl’s laughter ceased. Her hand, ready to pierce her forehead, was swiftly restrained behind her, rendering her immobile. Collapsing to the ground, she convulsed uncontrollably. Countless ghostly faces saw her as a nest to burrow into, consuming her. The fresh blood seeping from her pores slowly turned black, emitting a putrid odor of decay.

The once lively body was now hurtling towards death. When it burst, the ghostly faces swarming like venomous bees would scatter and blend back into the dense fog. However, amidst them, there would be an unyielding face, adorned with tattoos.

A chilling wind whistled in her ears as the girl strained to keep her eyes wide open, refusing to be swallowed by the darkness.

Unable to move, she cursed vehemently in her mind, a torrent of profanities flooding her thoughts.

In her most desperate moment, the girl heard a faint chirping sound coming from the pocket of her shirt. Her dim eyes lit up, as if a drowning person had caught hold of a lifeline. Hastily rising, she staggered towards a large rock.

Colliding heavily with the stone, the sound of her ribs breaking echoed. The glass jar hidden in her pocket naturally shattered upon impact.

“Einstein, come out now! If you can save me, I won’t kill you this time!” the girl shouted anxiously, sprawled on the rock.