That loathsome thing, under Gan Tang’s command, was just like a well-trained little dog—looking surprisingly obedient and docile.
The insect monster curled up its disgusting body, lowering its “head” slightly. From its deformed lips came a series of soft, sweet hisses.
【“Tang, Tang Tang.”】
The blurry human face on the hand seemed to be quietly observing the trembling boy.
【“Don’t cry, I—I’ll behave. I’ll listen to you.”】
It could even act cute to please him.
As soon as that completely parasite-infested arm made a sound, Yu Huai immediately became aware of its existence.
Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, the monster’s appearance finally pulled Yu Huai back from his complete breakdown, forcing him to recover a shred of sanity.
“Monster—”
Yu Huai’s jaw muscles instantly tensed, veins bulging like wriggling earthworms on his forehead and neck. His bloodshot eyes glared at the creature.
A hoarse grunt rumbled from his throat, and he instinctively bent down to pick up a stone from the ground.
Yu Huai gripped the stone so tightly that his knuckles began to turn pale. Even though everyone present clearly understood that a mere stone was utterly useless against the monster they faced, Yu Huai could no longer think rationally.
“Tmd, you damn monster, what are you trying to do—what else do you want—”
His expression was twisted with rage, tears mixed with blood from his forehead wound, making it look as if his entire face was drenched in bloody tears.
With a hoarse roar, Yu Huai raised his arm and hurled the stone fiercely at the writhing “hand” on the mountain path.
The rock struck the monster’s palm directly.
But the creature merely swayed slightly, its sinuous body barely affected. A few long, thin nematodes fell from the impact, but they quickly slithered back beneath the skin of the arm.
A faint rustling sound stirred from within the insect monster’s body.
The grotesque “eye” that mimicked Cen Zibai trembled slightly, its cold pupils locking onto the panting Yu Huai.
A terrifying chill radiated from the creature.
But just as the insect monster was about to act on its instincts and retaliate against Yu Huai, Gan Tang’s voice reached its ears once more.
“Stop.”
Gan Tang’s voice was ice-cold.
Like an emotionless machine issuing a command.
The insect monster’s body immediately stiffened, then slightly curled up, freezing in place.
Gan Tang took a deep breath through his nose.
Then, he raised his arm and wiped his face roughly with his sleeve.
Yu Huai instinctively looked at him—only to be unsettled by what he saw.
Despite everything that had happened—even with a lurking insect monster by his side—Gan Tang appeared eerily calm.
That unnatural calm sent a shiver of unease through Yu Huai, momentarily making him forget his anger.
Then, Yu Huai heard Gan Tang speak, each word slow and deliberate, as if he had only just learned how to use his tongue.
“Let him go.”
Gan Tang stared at the insect monster as he spoke.
“I’ll go back with you. Do whatever you want to me, I won’t run anymore. I won’t struggle… I accept it.”
The boy’s voice trembled slightly.
“But let Yu Huai go. You’ve already taken so many people underground to be your food reserves—you don’t need one more.”
“Gan Tang? Wait, what are you saying—”
A deep sense of dread washed over Yu Huai.
He turned to look at Gan Tang in shock.
The words were so clear, spoken with such deliberate thoughtfulness, and yet, at this moment, Yu Huai found himself struggling to grasp their true meaning.
He said he was leaving? Just like that, giving up all resistance, following the monster back to the well—only to eventually become one of those parasitized, hollowed-out creatures lurking in Fengjing Village?
Gan Tang met his gaze. His face was utterly expressionless, except for his reddened eyes.
The sky had begun to lighten, a sliver of morning light falling into Gan Tang’s eyes.
For a brief moment, Yu Huai thought he saw a glint of moisture there—like tears.
But when he looked again, Gan Tang’s face held nothing but blood and dirt.
Not even a trace of emotion remained.
Then, as if in response to Gan Tang’s plea, a rustling sound rose from the dense trees along the mountainside.
The moment he heard that sound, Yu Huai shuddered.
He turned toward its source in disbelief…
By now, he could never mistake that sound.
He knew exactly what it meant.
And so did Gan Tang.
It was the sound of insects writhing.
And for it to be this loud, for them to hear it so clearly—
There could only be one explanation.
Somewhere beyond their sight, hidden beneath the cover of leaves and branches—
The mountain was crawling with worms.
Ah, yes, after all, this was the mountains.
No matter how barren a mountain might be, it could still nurture a considerable number of wild animals.
Compared to clumsy humans, wild animals could move much faster once parasitized… “It” had already caught up with Gan Tang and the others long ago.
That was why, after all this time fleeing, they had never been chased.
The pursuers had always been there.
They just couldn’t see them, couldn’t perceive them.
…
Everything seemed to have already been decided.
No one could escape.
Just like the villagers of Xianjing Village back then—they had lived and thrived near that well for so many years. But once the breeding season of the worms arrived, their only fate was to be swallowed by the insects, then dragged into the pitch-black underground, becoming nothing more than senseless nourishment.
Of course, at that time, there was probably also one person who was chosen by the insect monster, tasked with bearing another horrifying duty.
A nesting chamber.
Egg-laying.
Laying eggs without rest.
…
And now, Gan Tang stared straight at Yu Huai, his lips moving as he chose a different path for the first friend he had made in the village.
A path to survival.
“Yu Huai, you have to go alone.”
Gan Tang looked at Yu Huai with dry, tearless eyes and said.
“Go, hurry up and go.”
He spoke.
Yu Huai’s heart gave a violent jolt, and his body began to tremble.
“No… You… You…”
His chest heaved erratically.
“That’s a worm.”
Yu Huai repeated nervously.
“That’s a monster. An insect monster. You’re not leaving? You want to go back with something like that?”
“I was never going to make it out.”
Gan Tang let out a choked sob.
His body swayed slightly, then, right in front of Yu Huai, he lifted his T-shirt.
The boy’s waist still carried the youthful slenderness of adolescence, looking exceptionally thin and flat.
However, in the dim morning light, Yu Huai saw something moving beneath Gan Tang’s fragile skin.
Something was indeed inside Gan Tang’s stomach.
Yu Huai’s voice, his breath, even his entire body, seemed to freeze at that moment.
“…That day, the morning ‘Cen Zibai’ came back.”
Gan Tang’s whisper echoed in Yu Huai’s ears again, sounding like a dream, hollow and dazed.
“I had a dream… No, I should say, I only thought… I thought it was a dream.”
“I dreamed that Cen Zibai turned into a writhing mass of worms and pounced on me… Countless nematodes squeezed into my body just like that…”
As he spoke, at last, a single tear slid down the corner of Gan Tang’s eye.
“But now I finally know, that wasn’t a dream at all.”
Not far from Gan Tang, the insect monster’s body began to stir and wriggle once again.
After absorbing all of the parasitized Cen Zibai’s memories and obsessions, the insect monster had developed its own peculiar way of thinking. It could already tell that Gan Tang was describing the scene of their first “breeding,” which made the creature’s body ripple uncontrollably.
As the host’s excitement grew, deep in the jungle, beyond where Yu Huai and Gan Tang could see, a chorus of slick, wet sounds arose—
The squelching noise of rotting flesh hitting the ground.
The sickening friction of things moving.
And the insect monster, using the vocal cords of its hosts, emitting sweet, high-pitched hisses…
All those sounds mixed together, sweeping past Yu Huai’s ears like a mournful wail.
Gan Tang lowered his shirt.
He groped around, picking up the small, simple bag he had carried with him, then tossed it to Yu Huai.
Inside was the cash he had specially prepared for the trip, knowing that mobile payments would be inconvenient in the remote village.
The bag tumbled twice before landing at Yu Huai’s feet.
“It’s time for you to go, Yu Huai.”
Gan Tang urged once again.
Not long ago, Yu Huai had nearly strangled Gan Tang in a fit of rage—yet now, looking at the boy standing on the mountain path, his tears only fell harder and faster.
The insect monster had already begun inching forward experimentally—first around his ankles, then his calves, then wrapping halfway up his body…
Thin, damp nematodes writhed, little by little, consuming Gan Tang.
No… That wasn’t “wrapping.”
That was swallowing.
Yu Huai staggered back two steps, desperately wiping his tears, but no matter how hard he wiped, they wouldn’t stop.
“There’s a way… There has to be a way. Once we get out—once we get out, there will be a way…”
He rambled on incoherently until Gan Tang cut him off with a voice devoid of all life, delivering his final ultimatum.
“I can’t go back anymore.”
“Run, Yu Huai.”
“While… while I still have human thoughts.”
“Just keep running, as far as you can. And never, never, never come back.”
Watching the dark-skinned boy finally let out a wailing sob, snatch up the bag, and stumble away, disappearing down the mountain path—
Gan Tang’s strength completely drained away.
His body went limp, collapsing backward.
Something soft and damp caught him immediately.
Worms.
Long, slender worms.
Countless worms, greedily coiling around his body.
The writhing creatures barely managed to take on a vague, humanoid shape, wrapping Gan Tang tightly in their embrace.
【“Tang Tang.”】
It nuzzled him gently.
【“Home… Back home, together.”】
【“Together, forever and ever.”】
Strangely enough, even as this repulsive thing appeared before him—
Gan Tang could still vaguely discern an emotion on “Cen Zibai’s” face.
It looked like joy.
For a fleeting moment, the insect monster almost seemed human.
Did the creature that had mercilessly slaughtered entire villages, leaving one ruin after another, truly possess such human-like emotions?
Gan Tang felt half-mocking and half-indifferent in his heart.
Ah, he must have already gone mad, right?
Gan Tang suddenly snapped back to his senses.
…How could a normal person ever equate these monsters with humans?
No matter what kind of emotions this thing displayed, how obedient or even cherishing it appeared, in reality, it was nothing more than a mimicry, created by absorbing the brain matter of its victims.
【”Tang, Tang Tang.”】
“Chen Zibai” seemed to have noticed Gan Tang’s distraction. He leaned closer to the young man, like a puppy seeking affection.
Thin, thread-like worms slipped down from its surface, impatiently reaching for Gan Tang’s cheek and lips.
If this scene were captured on film, it would undoubtedly be classified as a classic horror moment in any movie.
And even just a day ago, if Gan Tang had found himself so close, face-to-face with a monster like this… he would have likely screamed himself hoarse from sheer terror.
But now, Gan Tang simply relaxed his body in silence.
Without a sound, without resistance, he let himself sink little by little into the damp, mucus-filled mire constructed by the worms.
He looked at “Chen Zibai” and then spoke.
“Mm, let’s… go back.”
The monster’s crawling speed was astonishing.
Gan Tang even felt as though he had merely zoned out for a moment, and when he blinked again, the familiar sight of the mountain village had already reappeared in his vision.
The terrifying, eerie village he had left behind had now, because of his return, reverted to its former lively state.
Ah, yes, “lively.”
All the “people” had stepped out of their homes, staring at Gan Tang unblinkingly with identical, greedy, and yearning gazes.
Those people had already died.
There must have been some dreadful transformation that occurred when human bodies were turned into food for the worm creatures.
Even ordinary corpses wouldn’t begin to emit such a strong stench of rot this quickly.
Some of those who had been unknowingly parasitized long ago now looked like zombies from horror films, their guts spilling out, their bodies torn and ruined. Others, however, barely managed to maintain a fresh human appearance…
“Chen Zibai” displayed an unusual degree of attentiveness toward his breeding partner.
Logically speaking, this stockpile of food should have been sent to the cold, dark well immediately for storage and preservation.
But now, he was defying his instincts, recklessly wasting these hard-earned “provisions.” He commanded the corpses to stagger out of the village entrance, continuously smiling and nodding at Gan Tang.
He could sense that Gan Tang was feeling down.
He hoped this welcoming ritual would cheer up his tiny human companion.
And yet, the worm creature could not understand why, when faced with his former relatives and friends surrounding him, the boy in his arms turned so pale.
A bitter scent, one that signified fear and despair, seeped endlessly from the depths of Gan Tang’s still-warm flesh, making “Chen Zibai’s” nonexistent heart tremble and tighten.
【”Don’t be sad.”】
Clumsily, he stroked Gan Tang’s thin back.
【”Tang Tang, don’t cry.”】
At a complete loss, the worm creature hugged Gan Tang tighter.
【”The village… it won’t be lonely. In the well, everyone is there. I’ll wake them up, let them stay awake forever, keeping Tang Tang company.”】
He stammered, offering a promise he had never made before.
He could do it, just like he had done for Grandma.
Even after parasitism, the hosts could retain their consciousness… They wouldn’t even realize they had changed. They would continue their daily lives as usual, completely unaware that their bodies, the scenery they saw, and the food they ate had all transformed.
This would consume a great deal of his energy.
But if it could make Gan Tang happy, he was willing.
As long as he could please this boy, he would do anything.
However, upon hearing his offer, Gan Tang responded only with a frail, nearly sobbing rejection.
“No, no—”
His breathing turned rapid, as if he might die at any moment.
“Don’t… don’t! Just let them be food. Eat their brains, destroy their bodies, do whatever you want, but don’t leave behind any consciousness… I’m begging you… please…”
Unconsciously, Gan Tang clenched his clothes tightly, desperately pleading with the monster beside him.
He didn’t even dare to look at those “people” around him.
Even though he knew they were nothing more than walking corpses, in a daze, Gan Tang still felt as if their ghosts were hovering above the sealed well village, glaring at him with poisonous resentment.
It was all his fault.
The whispers in Gan Tang’s mind gradually turned into sharp, frenzied screams.
The worm creature swayed its head in confusion.
Clearly, it could not understand Gan Tang’s plea, but it still obediently nodded.
At that moment, the corpses collapsed to the ground in unison.
The worms squirmed and slithered beneath the layers of dead flesh, crawling swiftly toward the back mountain… toward the sealed well village.
The worm creature hugged Gan Tang even tighter.
It was thrilled, its chest brimming with uncontainable joy.
It was about to take its breeding partner through the now lifeless village and return together to their quiet, damp, and cold home.
But just at that moment, Gan Tang suddenly spoke.
“You’re the right hand.”
Gan Tang spoke softly.
“I know… you’re actually just Chen Zibai’s right hand. Come to think of it, I also saw his left hand before, along with some of his body parts. Oh, and the one that’s been with me all this time—that’s his head, right? And under my bed, it should be his feet… back then, he deliberately crawled toward my hand…”
As he spoke, he slowly pieced together in his mind how many parts he had originally dismembered Chen Zibai into.
Then, he lifted his gaze and met the monster’s cloudy, mimicry-formed eyes.
“Let me see you one last time, Chen Zibai. I want to see you whole.”
The worm creature’s surface rippled like boiling water, churning without pause.
A hand, taken from the dead boy’s body, pressed tightly against the back of Gan Tang’s neck, its fingertips nearly piercing into his flesh.
【“I… I am… him.”】
The monster muttered unwillingly.
【“Isn’t just me… enough?”】
It whimpered, sounding almost… aggrieved.
“No.”
Gan Tang answered with absolute coldness.
“Whole.” The boy repeated his request. “I want to see the whole you, the most complete version of you.”
The worm creature let out a series of low, reluctant hisses—despite being a singular hive mind, it seemed that, depending on which part was parasitized, its various fragments still experienced something akin to jealousy and rivalry.
But in the end, the monster agreed to Gan Tang’s request.
Just as when Chen Zibai was still alive.
It had always seemed as if the boy was relentlessly chasing and hunting Gan Tang.
But in truth, the one who held control over everything had always been Gan Tang.
Gan Tang felt no attachment to him.
Yet he—he clung to Gan Tang like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline, yearning for him with mad desperation and hopelessness.
Other than letting Gan Tang leave…
Chen Zibai would agree to any request Gan Tang made, without hesitation.
And now, after inheriting Chen Zibai’s memories and way of thinking, the worm creature had fallen into the same prison.
Gan Tang was unbearably weak.
Expressionless, he leaned against a large tree at the edge of the village.
Not long after the worm creature agreed to his request, Gan Tang finally saw the person he had asked for.
That was indeed the now-whole Chen Zibai.
At the same time, it was also a monster—one so terrifying that no language could ever fully describe it.
A corpse beast, forcibly pieced together, staggered forward from the other end of the road, heading toward Gan Tang.
The stench of rot drifted through the wind, seeping into Gan Tang’s nose.
Gan Tang stared at it without blinking.
“Chen Zibai” had tried very hard.
With great difficulty, it had gathered all the scattered body fragments of itself from around the village and forcefully pieced them back together.
Each chunk of flesh had decayed and mutated to different degrees. Some had rotted into a sludge-like consistency, while others were merely stiff and grayish-blue, their skin covered in corpse spots. Yet, almost every single piece of flesh had sprouted remnants of “Chen Zibai’s” facial features, all desperately yearning to continue existing as “Chen Zibai” and to stay with Gan Tang.
This led to an uncontrollable frenzy of self-devouring and tearing apart when they were brought together.
However, an intricate network of worms—dense and tangled like the roots of a plant, writhing ceaselessly—forcefully bound all the corpse fragments together, barely managing to form a vague and grotesque humanoid shape.
At the place where its head should have been, a charred skull was embedded.
Thin, pale pink, sticky thread-like worms completely filled the hollowed-out skull, writhing and squirming inside. Their pigments shifted constantly, mimicking the texture of human skin.
It walked with extreme difficulty. With each step, chunks of flesh fell off, but the slender worms immediately reached out, retrieving the fallen pieces and reattaching them to its body.
Finally, it stopped in front of Gan Tang.
The worms covering its face wriggled in unison, pulling apart its jaw—
It smiled at Gan Tang, a sweet and utterly maddening smile.
【”I’m here.”】
It said.
【”I—I am whole. Whole. Look at me, look at me!”】
It repeated over and over.
Gan Tang took a deep breath, and in an instant, the unbearable stench of rot from “Chen Zibai” flooded his nasal cavity.
It was the smell of a corpse.
Following the creature’s request, Gan Tang leaned against the tree trunk without moving and stared at it for a long time.
He watched until the worms covering its body began to quiver uncontrollably due to the overactivity of their main consciousness.
Some of them started unconsciously extending outward, like countless tiny tentacles reaching toward Gan Tang.
After a long while, Gan Tang finally nodded.
“Mm, I see you.”
He said to the creature.
At that moment… at that very moment, Gan Tang’s expression became unbelievably gentle.
The creature froze completely.
It didn’t know why.
But upon hearing those words… the creature once again experienced that strange sensation, something akin to a heart pounding rapidly in its chest.
“I’m about to go underground soon… Before that, I want to walk around here a little more.”
Gan Tang’s previous dazed despair had vanished, replaced by a soft and almost amiable tone.
As if, standing before him, wasn’t a loathsome monster—
But a friend.
“Now that I think about it, I’ve been here for so long, yet I’ve spent all my time holed up in my room, playing on my phone. I’ve never properly looked around the village. It’s a shame, isn’t it?”
The monster couldn’t comprehend the subtle emotions in Gan Tang’s voice.
It simply listened greedily, reveling in the warmth of the young man’s soft tone, feeling utterly satisfied and elated.
It was a kind of… ultimate fulfillment that it had never known before.
And immersed in this unfamiliar tenderness, when Gan Tang took slow steps forward, heading in the opposite direction of the Flesh-Borrowing Well, the creature did not resist at all.
It only wished for this moment to last forever.
Forever.
Just like this—walking side by side with the boy it cherished.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
…
Gan Tang silently counted each step in his heart, doing his best to steady his emotions.
He couldn’t afford to let the creature beside him notice any fluctuations in his mood.
He had to make sure everything went perfectly.
Fortunately, from beginning to end, the monster remained dazed and obedient, following him like a loyal puppy. No matter which direction he walked, it simply trailed after him, staying close.
Before long, a deep and tranquil body of water came into view.
It was the Dragon King’s Pool.
Even now, Gan Tang still remembered the strange sight he had once witnessed within that pool.
Just as Yu Huai had said—anything that fell into the Dragon King’s Pool would inevitably be taken away by the Dragon King.
Gan Tang recalled Yu Huai’s warning over and over again.
The heart that had long since fallen into despair and silence suddenly stirred back to life at this moment.
Gan Tang could feel his heart again.
Thump—
Thump—
Thump—
The rapid pounding in his chest nearly filled him with panic.
And along with his frantic heartbeat, the sharp pain in his abdomen returned once more.
Unconsciously, Gan Tang pressed a hand to his stomach, as if afraid that the thing inside him might transmit his thoughts to the creature behind him.
Thankfully, at his touch, the parasite eggs within him immediately quieted down.
Gan Tang stopped by the water’s edge, lowering his gaze to the rippling surface.
Perhaps out of curiosity—or maybe, simply wanting to stay close to Gan Tang—
“Chen Zibai” pressed tightly against his side.
On the dark surface of the Dragon King’s Pool, two shadows wavered.
Standing so close together, they looked like an inseparably intimate pair…
“Chen Zibai” gazed, entranced, at the distorted reflections on the water’s surface.
Once again, that unfamiliar feeling surged through its being.
As a worm creature, it was supposed to derive only the most basic, biological satisfaction from food and reproduction.
Yet, at this moment, as it looked at the shadow in the water—
A profound joy, like a lightning strike, coursed through it.
In comparison, all its previous physiological pleasures seemed insignificant.
【Like.】
The thoughts it had absorbed from humans burned themselves into its mind.
【Like Tang Tang.】
It thought, utterly content, pressing even closer to Gan Tang.
Gan Tang did not push away its moist, writhing arms.
The young man simply stared into the water, then, after a long pause, spoke, enunciating each word carefully.
“Chen Zibai… Actually, I’ve been thinking. Back then, when I threw you into the Flesh-Borrowing Well, I never really believed you would come back to this world.”
“I was just looking for an excuse…”
“So, when I dismembered you, I didn’t feel afraid at all.”
“Now that things have ended up like this, maybe this is heaven’s punishment for me. I accept it… I have no choice but to accept it.”
Gan Tang’s voice remained as soft as ever—
But that unbearable bitterness seeped from his body once more, making the worm creature feel an unfamiliar restlessness, as if something inside it was twisting painfully.
The worms inside its body squirmed and roiled, its barely held-together form showing signs of falling apart again—
Every single chunk of flesh was desperately craving the boy before it.
【”It’s okay.”】
The creature struggled to suppress its crumbling body.
It struggled to piece together words, only hoping that Gan Tang would no longer emit that bitter scent—
No longer have such sorrowful emotional fluctuations.
【”As long as it’s Tang Tang, no matter what you do to me… it’s fine. I’m happy, I’m happy, I’m so happy… I’m really happy that you threw that human into the well. I’m so happy, I’m so happy I occupied his skull. I’m so happy, so happy… After I came out, I saw you… I like you, I like you, I like you…”】
Countless fragmented thoughts filled the worm creature’s mind, making all of its soothing words sound like a madman’s incoherent ramblings.
And precisely because of this, the worm creature failed to notice the frozen, deathly stillness and resolve on Gan Tang’s face.
Gan Tang turned around—then, he voluntarily raised his arms and embraced the grotesque, hideous monster before him.
The boy lifted his head, bloodshot eyes reflecting the creature’s grotesque, rotting visage.
“That’s good… you said it yourself.”
Gan Tang leaned in close to the worm creature’s ear, letting out a strange, breathless chuckle.
“No matter what I do, you’re willing—”
Without warning, Gan Tang tightened his thin arms around the worm creature and, dragging the dripping, festering mass of corpse flesh, plunged headfirst into the Dragon King’s Pool with a heavy splash.
The moment they hit the water, the worm creature did not scatter.
On the contrary—out of sheer instinct, it clung even tighter to Gan Tang.
Some of the worms even bit through his skin, trying to burrow into his body—
Because only by intertwining itself with the frail boy could it ensure that even the currents couldn’t separate them.
Gan Tang felt the searing pain coursing through his body as the icy pool water gurgled into his nose and throat.
As suffocation crept in, Gan Tang’s mind frantically prayed—
Come.
Come quickly.
That which devours all—
The Dragon.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl.
So slow that despair nearly overtook Gan Tang.
For a brief moment, he even began to doubt himself.
Maybe he was wrong.
Maybe there was no unspeakable monster lurking within the Dragon King’s Pool at all.
Maybe the black shadow that had swallowed the blood-stained clothes before…
Was nothing but an illusion—an illusion born from Yu Huai’s whispered warnings and his own fraying mind.
But just as Gan Tang’s panic was about to consume him, he felt a violent surge in the water.
The disturbance did not come from the worm creature desperately trying to drag him back to shore—
It came from deeper beneath the surface…
Even deeper…
Something was coming from the depths.
Gan Tang had no idea what it was.
He couldn’t find the words—
He had never seen anything like it.
At the very bottom of the pool, there seemed to be a narrow fissure.
Black, writhing masses of flesh.
Deformed tentacles…
And countless pale, glistening eyes—
Eyes embedded in every crevice of the pool bed, in every hollow of the sand and rocks.
They flickered like ghostly flames.
The moment they sensed their “prey,” they began to rise, undulating like venomous snakes, greedily lunging toward the figures submerged in the water—
Gan Tang, and the worm creature wrapped around him.
The deformed tentacles were brutal and savage—
At the slightest touch, they split open into mouths lined with countless jagged teeth, devouring soft flesh whole.
The worm creature realized the Dragon’s savagery almost instantly.
The moment the tentacles reached for Gan Tang—
Its body began to dissolve on its own.
Countless thread-like worms clung desperately to Gan Tang’s skin, sealing him within its own body.
They were soft yet tenacious, stretching themselves out to resist the Dragon’s devouring limbs—
But it was futile.
The pitch-black tentacles snapped the worms apart in an instant.
Like severed threads, the writhing fragments drifted through the water, filthy and broken.
Soon, the creature clinging to Gan Tang began to disintegrate completely.
Corpse fragments and worms alike were devoured effortlessly by the Dragon.
Gan Tang’s right arm and thigh were bitten clean through, exposing stark white bone.
…Gan Tang could even see the faint outlines of worms wriggling beneath his torn skin, trying to weave themselves into a protective layer once again.
Blood spilled out in clouds, staining the water into thick, murky filth.
Ha.
Hahaha.
Gan Tang did not struggle.
Even as half his body was gnawed away by the Dragon, he did not resist.
He simply stared at everything before him without blinking.
And then—
He laughed.
A muffled, gurgling chuckle.
【”Tang Tang.”】
【”Tang Tang… don’t cry.”】
The worm creature’s whimper sounded once more by his ear—
Its voice barely more than a faint echo.
Now, only a few scattered clumps of worms remained.
Without the shelter of a human body, they looked both revolting and fragile.
Strangely enough—
If they dispersed, the tiny worms might still have had a slim chance to escape the Dragon’s devouring touch.
But even now, they stubbornly clung together—
Huddled close to Gan Tang’s mangled body…
Even now, they were still trying to carry him to the shore.
Soon, the Dragon’s tentacles struck again.
The worm clusters were finally crushed.
In the end, beside Gan Tang’s neck, only a single skull remained—
The skull of Cen Zibai, drifting and floating in the deep water.
Its hollow eye sockets faced Gan Tang.
Like a silent gaze.
Gan Tang stared at it.
For a fleeting moment, Cen Zibai’s face surfaced in his mind once more—
The worm creature’s face.
Gan Tang could no longer make a sound.
Only a piercing scream echoed in his mind.
Die.
Die.
Die, die, die, die, die, die, die—
Die with me—
You say you love me? Then die with me.
No—Even if you die with me, I will never love you.
I hate you. Whether it’s Cen Zibai—
Or that worm monster—
Both should die.
…The whispers in his mind gradually turned into a roar.
But slowly, slowly, as the worms perished, the cold tentacles finally coiled completely around Gan Tang’s body.
Compared to the worm creature, Gan Tang’s flesh was so delicate, his blood so warm.
The “Dragon” easily licked away his skin and muscle—his organs, too.
And—those worm eggs.
Clusters of eggs, like glistening grapes, nestled within his body cavity, spilled out from his ruptured abdomen along with the scattered viscera—
Only to be instantly swept up and devoured by the black tentacles.
Blood stained the water an even deeper red.
Gan Tang watched the scene before him—
And suddenly, he smiled.
And yet, at the very last moment, the words that surfaced in his mind were not his curses, nor the hatred he had harbored—
But his grandmother’s final words to him.
【Tang Tang, you must live well.】
Was that truly what his grandmother had wanted to say?
Or was it the worm creature?
That strange question flashed briefly through Gan Tang’s fading consciousness.
Then, his awareness gradually unraveled, dissipating into nothingness.
But just before his mind was completely extinguished—
Gan Tang seemed to see—
Tiny, thread-like worms.
Fragments, seemingly torn apart, scattered like debris.
Softly clinging—
To the muscular crevices of the “Dragon King’s” black tentacles.
Then, little by little, they began to wriggle.
Creeping deeper—
Deeper into the flesh of the tentacles.
【Tang Tang.】
【I love you.】
【I love you.】
【We will be together forever, forever, forever…】
Cen Zibai’s whisper echoed in Gan Tang’s ears once more.
Like an inescapable curse, accompanying him in death—
Plunging into utter darkness.
