Chapter 646: Instance established
“……”
The black-haired, golden-eyed man lowered his gaze, looking at the small child nestled in his arms. His expression was somewhat dazed, as if he hadn’t expected to be tricked into revealing himself by such a simple and crude method.
“Hey.”
Little Wen Jianyan tilted his head to look at him.
“Hey.”
“You still haven’t answered the questions I asked earlier.” The child was persistent—even though he was young, he seemed naturally inclined to get to the bottom of things and never give up.
Unfortunately, he was still met with silence.
“Why won’t you talk?” Little Wen Jianyan studied him inquiringly, the smile in his eyes gradually fading as his expression became more serious. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“If that’s the case, you need to hide more carefully—”
Here, if any unusual defects were discovered, then…
He suddenly felt confused.
Hm?
Then what?
“……”
Wu Zhu gently placed little Wen Jianyan safely on the ground. His voice was cold and deep, his warning looking extremely imposing: “Don’t do this again.”
“Ah, so you can talk.” The child’s pale eyes curved.
Wu Zhu choked.
“So,” little Wen Jianyan gripped his clothes tightly to prevent him from disappearing again like before, adopting a stance of getting to the bottom of things and not giving up until he got answers, “why do you keep following me?”
Boom!
The world began shaking again.
No matter what, this was just an illusion… Beneath the flimsy walls, pitch-black sticky shadows coiled, like scaffolding supporting the building and like ribbons flowing through the Mommas’ joints, together constructing this false and sweet world.
And the child firmly hidden in the depths of the illusion had already begun to doubt.
Wu Zhu raised his eyes, his golden pupils flickering slightly.
“Hey,” looking at this strange person before him who kept his mouth shut and couldn’t get a word out of with three sticks, little Wen Jianyan drooped his head and ground his toes against the floor, asking pitifully, “Why won’t you pay attention to me? Do you find me annoying?”
Wu Zhu withdrew his gaze and looked down at the child before him.
Anyone could see he was pretending.
“…No.”
But he still couldn’t help answering.
“Then you’ll answer my questions?” The child’s eyes gleamed cunningly.
“…………Mm.”
“Are you human?” Little Wen Jianyan asked.
“No.”
“A ghost?”
“No.”
“Then what are you?”
“…” Wu Zhu was silent for a moment. He seemed unable to find any other better descriptor either, so he decided to compromise. “A ghost.”
Little Wen Jianyan: “………..Hey!”
Before he could continue interrogating, a “creak” came from not far away. The door was pushed open from outside, and a Momma with black shadows flowing from its joints walked in. Its movements were as stiff as ever, a crooked smile drawn on its face.
It held a large pile of candies, their glass wrappers glittering, refracting colorful halos under the light.
“Baby, what you wanted to eat, here it is.” Momma’s voice was stiff and mechanical, appearing particularly eerie. “A-already bro-brought it.”
“Yay!”
Little Wen Jianyan cheered and immediately threw everything else to the back of his mind. Like a little cannonball, he rushed out, not noticing that the shadow at his feet twisted slightly, helping him push the chair blocking his path a few inches away.
But after running just a few steps, the child suddenly stopped and turned back suspiciously:
“Wait… Ghost, you’re not planning to run away, are you?”
Wu Zhu, who had indeed been preparing to silently melt into the darkness: “…”
Under the other’s stare, he said against his will: “No.”
Soon, little Wen Jianyan sat back in his chair with his arms full of candy.
Although the material conditions in the false illusion were extremely abundant, he was still so thin and small—his thin, frail shoulders protruded from under his clothes, his little hands so skinny you could see the bones. He rapidly unwrapped the candy packaging and shoved the colorful candy balls into his mouth whole—the aftereffects of hunger were vividly imprinted on his small body, unable to be erased even in an illusion.
Two candy balls were stuffed into either side of his mouth, puffing out both cheeks, finally giving them a rare sense of fullness.
He turned to look at Wu Zhu and mumbled: “Do you… want some…”
Wu Zhu shook his head.
Little Wen Jianyan didn’t mind.
He knew ghosts didn’t need to eat.
He lowered his head and began carefully smoothing out the wrinkled glass candy wrapper in his hand, pressing it flat with extremely serious and cherished movements.
This kind of thing was rare here. The others would definitely want it too—
Little Wen Jianyan sucked on the candy ball, and his movements of smoothing the wrapper suddenly stopped, his eyes momentarily confused.
Would want what?
Boom.
The strange muffled sound came again, and the world shook along with it.
But the next second, a cold, wide palm covered his eyes, and all at once, all the light was obscured by darkness.
“…” Little Wen Jianyan belatedly called out tentatively, “Ghost?”
“Mm.”
A deep response came from above his head.
Why did he suddenly cover his eyes?
Little Wen Jianyan was a bit confused.
But before he could ask the question, the other’s voice came again:
“What do you want?”
The question came abruptly. Little Wen Jianyan couldn’t help but freeze. He blinked, his long eyelashes brushing against the other’s palm.
Wu Zhu asked again, his voice revealing no emotional fluctuation:
“What do you want?”
Abundant food, safe shelter, friendly guardians.
Everything a child needs to grow.
Or money, wealth, power…
Everything a human might desire.
—What else do you want?
“Say it, and I will make it come true for you.” The man’s tone was casual—just from listening, one could never imagine what that simple sentence actually represented.
Little Wen Jianyan fell into thought.
Wu Zhu didn’t rush him, just waited patiently.
Finally, the child moved. He extended his thin little finger and placed it on Wu Zhu’s wrist, gently pulling the other’s palm down. He turned his head and looked up at Wu Zhu from below, his pale eyes appearing especially large because of his thinness, meeting the man’s brilliant golden vertical pupils.
“I don’t know.”
He blinked in confusion—little Wen Jianyan felt like he had forgotten many things, no matter how hard he tried to remember.
“However,” little Wen Jianyan thought for a moment and finally spoke softly, “…I really want to have a friend.”
Wu Zhu asked: “Aren’t there enough already?”
“Then fine.”
At his feet, countless shadows extended outward, new black children being molded—no matter how many, no matter who—
“No.” But unexpectedly, little Wen Jianyan shook his head stubbornly. “That’s not the same.”
Wu Zhu paused.
Though still such a small child, he seemed to have extraordinary perception. Even in a world distorted by his power, he could still detect the difference between “real” and “false.”
Wu Zhu began to think.
He remembered those unexpected intruders.
Those people were real humans, and they were indeed Wen Jianyan’s friends in the real world. If it were them, perhaps…
“Ah, that’s right!”
Little Wen Jianyan seemed to think of something. He gripped Wu Zhu’s wrist and looked up at him eagerly:
“Will you be my friend?”
Wu Zhu’s train of thought was interrupted by the other’s sudden request. He froze, lowered his head, and confirmed in confusion:
“…Me?”
“Mm!” Little Wen Jianyan nodded vigorously. He hugged Wu Zhu’s arm tightly, his eyes sparkling.
“……”
Wu Zhu fell silent.
The more contact he had with Wen Jianyan, the more unstable the illusion became. He absolutely should not agree to this request.
“Please…”
Wen Jianyan had been good at acting coquettish since childhood. His voice immediately softened, his two little hands shaking Wu Zhu’s arm, blinking his eyes with a pitiful expression.
Wu Zhu’s eyes flickered, beginning to waver.
“Why?”
“…I don’t know either.” Little Wen Jianyan froze, as if he hadn’t expected the other to ask such a question.
Even though the other emanated a dangerous aura, from the moment he saw him, he inexplicably had a premonition that this guy would never hurt him no matter what.
Even if he was a ghost, he was a very approachable ghost.
“I think…” After much deliberation, little Wen Jianyan solemnly concluded:
“It’s probably because I really like you.”
Wu Zhu froze, looking down in near astonishment.
Little Wen Jianyan rested his chin on his hand, eyes bright as he looked at him, like some fluffy little animal that was particularly good at enticing people to pet it.
“I’ll definitely be a really good friend…”
“So, please?”
“…………”
With a silent sigh, the deity once again compromised.
“Alright.”
“Yay!!”
Having received permission, little Wen Jianyan finally beamed with joy.
His eyes rolled cunningly, not knowing what mischief he was planning. He pointed at the candy on the table. “Since we’re already friends, can you help me pack these up?”
“Alright.”
“And these, these…” Little Wen Jianyan pushed his luck.
“Alright.”
So the two, one big and one small, began sweeping through the entire first floor.
Little Wen Jianyan happily commanded his new friend.
And his new friend willingly obeyed his instructions.
“I’m tired from walking.” Little Wen Jianyan stopped. He turned around and stretched up two thin arms, his face showing undisguised closeness and dependence. “Carry me.”
“Alright.” Wu Zhu bent down and lifted little Wen Jianyan with one hand.
The little guy was tiny, his weight negligible. Sitting on his arm, he was like a light feather falling.
Little Wen Jianyan nestled against the man’s shoulder, tilting his head to gaze at the other’s marble-white profile, and suddenly spoke:
“…Your eyes are so beautiful.”
Wu Zhu tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes focusing intently on the child in his arms.
“You like them?”
“Mm!” Little Wen Jianyan raised his head, gazing thoughtfully into the depths of the other’s strange eyes, and solemnly concluded: “Very much!”
So bright, something that could never exist in a gray world.
The next second, deep in those brilliant golden eyes—the most magnificent he had ever seen—a hint of undisguised pleased amusement arose.
Being looked at like this, little Wen Jianyan felt a bit embarrassed. He awkwardly turned his head away and cleared his throat, then continued commanding with an air of importance: “Go, let’s continue!”
And so, he guided Wu Zhu through stairways and halls. Not far ahead was the tightly closed gate of the orphanage.
“Keep going.” Little Wen Jianyan urged.
But Wu Zhu stopped in place and didn’t move forward.
“…” Gazing at the closed door, Wu Zhu’s eyes flickered slightly. He lowered his head to look at little Wen Jianyan, his voice devoid of joy or sorrow:
“You want to leave here?”
“Mm!” Little Wen Jianyan nodded without hesitation.
“Why?” Wu Zhu asked.
He looked deeply into the other’s eyes, inquiring seriously.
This is a world created for you.
Erasing sadness, pain, conflict, despair, leaving only joy, peace, happiness, tranquility… a perfect dream personally crafted by a deity.
“I… I don’t know,” little Wen Jianyan thought hard for a long time, then finally said word by word, “I just feel… this place doesn’t seem real.”
Indeed, here he could do whatever he wanted.
He could get anything he wanted, do anything he wanted to do.
But somehow, he always felt a bit empty deep in his chest. Vaguely, he always had a strange premonition… as if he had forgotten something.
As if something more important was waiting for him to accomplish.
“What is it?” Wu Zhu pressed.
“Like… a dream.” Little Wen Jianyan rested his head on Wu Zhu’s shoulder, gazing at him somewhat dazedly. “A very, very long dream.”
Like a huge, colorful bubble, holding him inside, floating upward unsteadily.
“Don’t you like this dream?”
“I do.”
Little Wen Jianyan nodded without hesitation.
“But,” little Wen Jianyan raised his head, a pair of clean, dustless eyes looking at Wu Zhu, his expression focused, “as long as it’s a dream, it will wake up, won’t it?”
Rumble.
A heavy muffled sound came from beneath their feet, and the building began shaking again.
The dream was on the verge of collapse, yet Wu Zhu didn’t look at anything other than Wen Jianyan.
“What if the world after waking up is terrible?” Wu Zhu gazed at the child in his arms, something deeper and darker seeming to settle in his eyes. “Won’t you regret it?”
“Maybe I will.”
Little Wen Jianyan thought about it and said earnestly,
“But if I don’t go see, how will I know?”
“However…”
Little Wen Jianyan raised his head, his clear eyes reflecting Wu Zhu’s face—he looked at his only ghost friend, his expression somewhat dejected:
“I don’t want to leave you alone…”
Wu Zhu lowered his eyes, seemingly smiling:
“Don’t worry.”
Just as light can never escape its shadow.
“Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t.”
After realizing this might be an illusion, Qi Qian and the others had been trying to break through.
But the “structure” of the building before them seemed far beyond their imagination. Beneath the seemingly solid walls flowed thick, dark shadows, cold and ominous. Just looking at them was enough to send chills down one’s spine.
The entire world seemed to have been twisted and transformed.
They had attempted to destroy the door multiple times, but each time they were blocked by the shadows and ultimately returned empty-handed.
“Damn it!!”
Chen Cheng was furious, though his physical condition prevented him from venting his anger as he usually would.
“How the hell are we supposed to get out!”
Just then, Bai Xue, who had been protected at the back, suddenly moved. He stepped forward and slowly extended his hand—
“Be careful!” Wen Ya’s tense reminder came from behind.
But Bai Xue paid no attention, his fingertip directly feeling along a corner of the wall.
A few seconds later, he turned his head, his eyes pitch black: “Here.”
“You mean—!”
Hearing this, everyone instantly understood.
Ah, that crack!!
The orphanage wasn’t completely intact—there was a huge artificial crack in its wall, which was how they had entered in the first place.
Although their location had now swapped with Orange Candy’s team, this crack synchronized in both worlds, inside and out!
With a clear direction, everyone worked together and finally found the passage to the outside before the shadows at the base of the wall covered it again.
Soon, they passed through the crack in the wall, finally escaping the cage that had trapped them.
Before them appeared the familiar pitch-black sky.
The eerie yellowish-brown earth emanated a cold aura, extending into the distance. As far as the eye could see, there was no end in sight.
This was a scene that could only appear in nightmares.
“This, this is…”
Qi Qian, seeing this sight for the first time, was too shocked to speak.
“Making a mountain out of a molehill.” Chen Cheng behind him sneered sarcastically.
Qi Qian: “…”
An Xin sympathetically patted his shoulder: “It’s okay, Captain. You’ll get used to it after watching for a while.”
Qi Qian: “…”
He hadn’t been asleep that long, had he?
Was this really necessary?!
However, just then, an extremely strange feeling struck from not far away. Endless coldness shot up from the soles of their feet, coiling around their nerves like a snake!
Everyone’s pupils contracted. They all fell silent and looked sharply toward the distance.
At the end of the crooked stone path stood a pitch-black figure.
Like a large hole burned in the air, not a single ray of light could pass through it, only endless cold eeriness seeping out.
Every cell in their bodies was screaming, alerting.
This was an unknowable, imperceptible terrifying existence!
Run quickly!
“Wait, this couldn’t be…” Wen Ya seemed to think of something and looked sharply toward Bai Xue.
Bai Xue didn’t speak but nodded, confirming Wen Ya’s guess.
The “existence” that had previously crossed swords with Orange Candy and forced him to call and warn was right before their eyes.
After their positions swapped, their situations also swapped.
The “passengers” that had been chasing them had now become Orange Candy’s problem, while this “mortal crisis” that existed in the original instance had become theirs to deal with.
“So what do we do next?” Chen Mo instinctively lowered his voice.
They had originally planned to find a way to escape, then immediately go find Wen Jianyan. Regardless of whether the phantom following him had malicious intent, as long as they brought him out of this illusion, they should be successful.
But they hadn’t expected…
There would be such a thing waiting for them outside.
Just as they were conferring in low voices, suddenly, the “black shadow” in the distance moved. It began walking in this direction.
With each step closer, they could see the hole more clearly and more keenly feel the terrifying implications it contained.
“So this is that ‘First on the Points List,’ ‘Agent of Nightmare’s Will’?” Wen Ya’s eyes locked tightly on the shadow’s direction as she spoke in a low voice.
When Wen Jianyan was still with the team, he had briefly explained this guy’s existence to them.
“But shouldn’t it be dead already?” An Xin’s brow furrowed deeply, his expression extremely confused—”If I remember correctly, didn’t we smash the petri dish containing the brain on the Lucky Cruise?”
And he had played an important role in that final action.
“But when life has no meaning,” just then, Bai Xue slowly spoke. He stared fixedly at the direction the shadow was coming from. “Death also has no meaning.”
This sentence sounded strange and peculiar. Everyone who heard it couldn’t help but freeze for a moment.
Under their watch, the black shadow that had been walking forward step by step suddenly stopped.
It paced back and forth several meters from the orphanage gate but showed no intention of continuing to approach.
“What’s going on now?” An Xin was stunned.
Chen Mo looked at the black shadow stagnating not far away, then turned to look at the orphanage behind them. He seemed to have figured something out: “Perhaps… the real purpose of that black substance flowing under the walls isn’t to trap us inside, but to keep it outside?”
The darkness under the walls firmly constructed the framework of this orphanage, enclosing such an independent world.
Though it looked cold and terrifying, when they tried to leave, they hadn’t encountered any form of attack, as if it had no hostility toward them.
“Very likely.”
Qi Qian gazed deeply at the pacing humanoid black hole not far away and said slowly.
“If that’s the case, our best course of action now is to hold our position and see what Orange Candy’s side…”
Before he could finish, the next second, a “creak” came from behind.
The sharp sound of rusted hinges rubbing together tore through the deathly silence covering this open space.
“?!”
Everyone turned around in astonishment.
The orphanage gate that had just been tightly closed now swung wide open before their eyes.
…The door… how did it open?
Everyone was a bit dazed, not having expected such an unexpected development.
They held their breath and looked deeply inside the door.
“Tap, tap, tap.”
Steady, even footsteps came from within.
The footsteps approached from far to near, a tall silhouette gradually emerging from the darkness.
Under everyone’s silent watch, a man wrapped in a terrifying aura slowly walked out, and in his arms was Wen Jianyan.
“?!” They all gasped sharply.
Terrible!
Chen Cheng stepped forward, his expression fierce as he shouted, “Put him down—”
But before he could finish his harsh words, the rest of the sounds got stuck in his throat. His expression, not yet adjusted, looked quite strange because of this.
The black-haired, golden-eyed man glanced over indifferently.
“…”
Chen Cheng was thunderstruck.
He, of course, remembered that face.
After all, such a face would be hard to forget.
And everyone present clearly had a deep impression of him.
Wu Zhu lowered his eyes and once again focused all his attention on the small child in his arms.
Little Wen Jianyan nestled entirely against his shoulder, his posture showing unreserved trust and intimacy. He contentedly played with the other’s long hair over his shoulder, like a soft little animal that would only show its belly in the embrace of someone close.
And Wu Zhu let him play, his eyes indescribably gentle.
He even lifted his arm higher to let him play more freely.
“…………”
Everyone was dumbstruck.
Huh?
Wait?
…No? What’s going on here?
Everyone present stood rooted to the spot, their brains momentarily crashing.
This scene—it just feels—like nothing makes sense, no matter how you look at it—
Too many questions flooded their minds, making it difficult to process so much information at once.
“What’s going on?” Qi Qian stood in place, looking completely confused—he had already prepared for battle, but then unexpectedly everyone else froze, seemingly not intending to do anything… This drove him somewhat crazy.
“Do you know that guy?!”
He had only been dormant for a short while, so why did it feel like the whole world had abandoned him?!
On the ship, although Wu Zhu had briefly been in the same place as Qi Qian, they had never actually met—Qi Qian had been in too poor condition when rescued from the auction, and after that had quickly used his talent to become a paper figure. Naturally, he had no impression of Wu Zhu.
But the others were different.
“Uh, that,” Ma Qi stammered, “Isn’t that, isn’t that the… what was it… ally the president introduced on the cruise?”
Chen Mo’s voice was also dry: “Yes.”
“Then, is he the shadow you mentioned earlier that was following behind the president?” Wen Ya asked hesitantly.
“Yes…” Ma Qi’s voice became even stiffer. “Probably, maybe, perhaps, possibly… right?”
“Ally?” Qi Qian finally caught the keyword from their conversation. He looked in that direction with horror and slowly asked a soul-deep question: “What kind of ally is this?”
Since when did you all start calling this kind of interaction model an ally?
Everyone: “…”
Well…
Feeling numb.
While they were still dazed from the shock, Wu Zhu’s footsteps didn’t stop. He walked steadily forward.
Not far away stood that eerie figure.
Like a black hole burned by a cigarette butt on white cloth, its body was like a vortex appearing out of thin air, attracting and swallowing all light and warmth.
At this moment, it was no longer pacing either, but had turned around to face directly toward Wu Zhu and Wen Jianyan, as if waiting for something.
Seeing this, Chen Mo’s eyes suddenly sharpened.
“Wait…”
But his warning was ignored.
Wu Zhu’s steps didn’t stop. He walked toward the black shadow step by step.
Little Wen Jianyan’s gaze fell on the black shadow. He didn’t know what he thought of, but his face gradually paled. Some unknown fear began brewing in his eyes. His fingers gripped Wu Zhu’s collar tightly.
“Where are we going?”
Rumble!!
Behind them, the tall orphanage began violently trembling.
As if something indestructible was beginning to collapse from within.
Wu Zhu stopped just a few steps away from the black shadow.
He set little Wen Jianyan on the ground.
“I’m scared…”
Tears began gathering beneath the child’s fluttering lashes. His body trembled finely in fear, his knuckles white from gripping. He sobbed,
“Don’t leave…”
Wu Zhu raised his hand and slowly wiped away the tears flowing down the child’s soft cheek with his thumb.
“Of course I won’t leave.”
Little Wen Jianyan hiccupped through his tears, looking at Wu Zhu through hazy eyes: “Really?”
Wu Zhu: “Mm.”
“Then, then what is that?” Little Wen Jianyan forced down his fear and looked at the black shadow not far away.
“Your nightmare.”
“Go.”
The man’s eyes were like cold flames burning in darkness.
“Kill it, then wake up.”
“Kill… it?” Little Wen Jianyan murmured in repetition, his expression confused. “But I don’t know how…”
“You do.”
“You did it with your own hands a long time ago.”
Wu Zhu bent down, his cold lips pressing against the child’s warm forehead, leaving a brief, gentle kiss.
“—You can do it this time too.”
In the darkness, the child’s whole body trembled uncontrollably.
But even so, he still gripped the pen tightly, stroke by stroke, crookedly signing his name on the parchment.
“Very good.”
The contract completed, the black shadow took the parchment from Wen Jianyan’s hand.
It looked Wen Jianyan up and down, its faceless void somehow displaying a satisfied expression. In a fervent tone, it murmured in a low voice:
“I never thought this batch of kindling would be of such high quality…”
“If it really succeeds, then we can finally replace that disobedient furnace core…”
Without warning, it suddenly fell silent.
Tilting its head slightly, as if listening to some voice only it could hear.
“Alright.”
It nodded.
“Alright.”
“…”
Little Wen Jianyan raised his head. His shoulders were frail, trembling slightly under fear and pressure, but his gaze still stared fixedly at the other, his eyes bright as snow: “I’ve already signed my name.”
His tone held a calmness and maturity beyond his age.
“You also have to do what you promised me.”
“Let the others go.”
His voice awakened the black shadow from its thoughts.
“Oh? That,” It paused, seeming to take a moment to remember those useless children called kindling.
It turned around, opened the door, and called out.
Soon, a Momma walked in.
She asked fearfully: “Mr. Yun, what are your orders?”
“What about those children caught with him?” the black shadow asked.
Momma answered quickly: “Still outside.”
They had already disposed of the other children using very efficient and practiced methods, but because they weren’t sure how he wanted to handle these escaped children, they—
The black shadow pressed its hand on Wen Jianyan’s shoulder, pinning him down like a hawk: “Bring them in.”
A group of children with pale faces and desperate expressions were pushed into the room, stumbling and huddling together.
Seeing Wen Jianyan, they trembled in fear and cried:
“Boss…”
“Boss… what do we do…”
Little Wen Jianyan held back his tears, still pretending to be calm as he comforted them:
“Don’t worry, don’t worry, everything will be fine…”
However, just then, a light voice came from overhead.
“Dispose of them.”
Thunder roared.
The world seemed to black out briefly.
Red.
Large patches, endless red.
What was that red?
At first glance, it was hard to recognize.
Until Wen Jianyan finally made out the faces submerged in red.
Empty eyes with all spirit fled, faces frozen in despair devoid of life. Those lively expressions, close gazes, hopeful smiles—all had disappeared. Like something between human and object, though each bore a familiar face, they seemed so strange…
Their lips were half open, as if issuing a silent question.
Why?
All sounds seemed to have receded, leaving only the echoes of memory reverberating in his ears.
“Don’t worry, if there’s danger, I’ll protect you.”
“Trust me, everything will be fine…”
“After we escape…”
“After we grow up…”
All the voices became hollow lies.
All the desperate struggles became futile jokes.
Death, just like that, effortlessly drowned everything.
“…”
A light voice came from beside his ear.
Everything seemed to be through a layer of fog, as if coming from far away.
“Success?”
“Should be possible.”
“His soul is very strong. Such intense emotions are enough to support an instance.”
The black shadow lowered its head and pulled out a brass knife from somewhere.
The blade was cold and clean, its edge reflecting sharpness, seemingly harboring some terrifying power beyond reason.
The knife tip slowly sank into one side of the child’s arm.
The brass knife mercilessly left a deep wound. The next second, large amounts of blood gushed out, dripping down, seeping into the ground, as if some invisible existence was being stripped away and left here forever.
The child’s legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground.
“Good, that should be enough.” The black shadow released its hand and stepped over his body without a glance, walking toward the Momma.
It asked in an unsettling voice: “The corpse oil? Has it all been refined?”
“Of course,” Momma chattered in response. “The first few batches have been sent to your office, in the second drawer of your desk. The rest are still being made. There are two more batches left. If you wait another ten minutes, you’ll be able to…”
Her voice suddenly stopped.
That emotionless, round face was full of shock: “He… he…”
“Mr. Yun” seemed to finally sense something wrong.
It slowly turned around, looking behind.
Little Wen Jianyan had somehow awakened. He stood behind the desk, quietly gazing at them. One arm was bleeding profusely. There were no tears in his eyes. His expression was calm, his gaze unprecedentedly silent and composed.
He released his hand, and a blood-stained glass shard clinked to the floor, refracting strange colors.
“…Awake?” “Mr. Yun” froze, but quickly reacted. A smile-like black halo formed on its hollow face. “No, you never fainted at all.”
“Used glass shards to cut your palm to stay conscious?”
Its voice was pleased, nauseating.
“Impressive.”
But little Wen Jianyan ignored him.
He lowered his eyes.
Clink clank.
A large number of gray-white corpse oil plates collided with each other, making crisp sounds.
“What are you doing?” Even at this point, “Mr. Yun” still didn’t take Wen Jianyan’s actions seriously. “While I still have patience, come here.”
Little Wen Jianyan looked up, staring fixedly at the black shadow not far ahead.
The fear had dissipated from his eyes, leaving only what seemed like confusion.
As if pulled by some unknown force, he unknowingly released Wu Zhu’s hand and began walking forward step by step.
“I never knew what was being done in the little room on the second floor.”
The child said softly.
“I only knew that after children were sent in, they never came out again.”
“Occasionally I could sense strange high temperatures and smell unpleasant odors… until now.”
He slowly extended a hand he had been hiding behind his back.
In his palm was a silver gleaming lighter.
“Mr. Yun’s” face seemed to change.
It reached toward its pocket but came up empty.
“When did you—”
In a flash, a certain moment rushed into its mind.
Just now, the reason it had so easily caught that slippery little brat was because he had neither dodged nor evaded, but had crashed straight into it.
Rumble!!
The entire world seemed to be trembling. The orphanage collapsed from within.
Watching Wen Jianyan walk step by step toward danger, Chen Cheng grew anxious. He instinctively stepped forward:
“Hey, don’t—”
But before he could finish, a cold hand grabbed him.
He froze slightly and turned to look.
The snow-white youth with only his pupils terrifyingly black shook his head, signaling him not to interfere.
Not far away, little Wen Jianyan continued forward.
Step by step, each weighing a thousand pounds.
The entire world seemed to quiet down. Everything except this area seemed to become a vast blank.
As the child approached, the black shadow, emanating a terrifying aura, inexplicably seemed to feel fear and actually began slowly retreating.
“Click.”
A light metallic friction sound.
A cluster of bright yellow flame leapt up with a hiss.
“Mr. Yun’s” hollow face roiled with darkness, its expression changing dramatically. “You, you don’t—”
Before it could finish, the child suddenly smiled: “Don’t what?”
Bright pupils reflected the tiny dancing orange firelight, appearing particularly cold in the darkness.
“Like this?”
He released his hand.
The flame spun downward.
Little Wen Jianyan’s fingertip had at some point touched the black shadow.
Just a light touch.
From where he made contact, flames began spreading, accompanied by frightening crackling sounds. In the blink of an eye, they had engulfed the shadow.
The shadow struggled in the flames, erupting in inhuman shrieks.
Thus, flames shot skyward, and fire blazed!
The fragrance of corpse fat was catalyzed by the flames, licking up the walls and floor like living things, scorching everything combustible and non-combustible.
In the blink of an eye, the entire world was engulfed in a sea of fire.
This was no ordinary flame. In each cluster of fire could faintly be seen the forms of children. They appeared and disappeared, existing and extinguishing, dancing atop the bright flames.
No water could extinguish them. No existence could stop their burning.
Tongues of flame licked up walls, melted beams, devoured the building.
In the devastated office, glass shards lay on the floor, the blood on them absorbed in the blink of an eye.
The bright surface reflected the hellish inferno before it.
A blood-covered child limped through the flames.
The flames parted to make way for him.
Pitch-black smoke gathered and dispersed. Amid the crackling of burning, soft whispers rose and fell.
Go quickly, go quickly.
Escape this place.
Behind him echoed Mr. Yun’s crazed cackling laughter.
That laughter was eerie, cold, manic, like an inescapable, terrifying curse:
“Hahaha… hahahaha! You think you barely… escaped? No… no, no one escapes—!”
“No, no, no no no no no—” Behind him, the Mommas danced their sinful dance in the flames. Piercing wails and screams tore the sky. Their eyeballs melted in the high temperature, becoming liquid flowing down charred faces. “Stop burning, stop burning!! Please, please!!!!!”
In answer, the children in the flames swarmed forward, giving them a fatal embrace.
The orphanage now possessed sufficient pain and death.
From the darkness came a cold mechanical voice.
…
“Instance established.”
—”Agent severely damaged, attempting recovery and repair.”
—”Repair difficulty too high, initiating reconstruction.”
—”Dispatching agent to ‘Fukang Hospital’, original plan activated.”
—”Searching for key figure in god-creation plan…”
—”Search failed, key figure temporarily escaped.”
—”Changing personnel rating: quality woods → quality woods-key”
Author’s Note:
Some corresponding foreshadowing is numerous and scattered, so I’ll briefly mark it:
① Fukang Hospital Chapter 35 and after: The incompletely repaired agent (covered in stitches) was directly deployed to Fukang Hospital to complete the next ghost baby cultivation mission.
② Yuying Comprehensive University Chapter 515 and after: The physically repaired agent became the principal, representing burn marks.
③ Yuying Comprehensive University Chapter 486 and after: The corpse oil fire that once ignited cannot be extinguished.
④ Orphanage fire: The pitch-black walls and gray smoke haze in the air are mentioned multiple times at the start of the plot.
