Chapter Forty-Three: Spreading Resentment

Just as the zombie hound’s deadly claws were about to slice through the mutated zombie’s neck—already mangled from repeated assaults, so that another strike would likely send its head rolling to the ground—Fan Li, pressed for time and unable to summon Ellie, let out a fierce cry. The light in his eyes flared, growing from a pinpoint to a blazing gleam, as if a panther poised in the treetops had finally caught sight of its prey and meant to strike with all the swiftness at its command.

The soul sealed within the Monster Manual stirred. Suddenly, Fan Li’s ears were besieged by a cacophony of weeping, sobbing, and shrill, maddening laughter. The chorus of sounds painted his face in ashen, suffocating hues.

In the next instant, Fan Li’s hair twitched, then burst into wild growth, like the dense seagrass along a storm-battered coast. In mere moments, it had stretched three or four meters, and was still growing, lashing out at the zombie hound with incredible speed.

A silent transformation overtook him—his expression twisted involuntarily. The moment he began to draw upon the power of the sealed Weeper, those discordant noises swelled in his ears, and he felt a chill creeping along his back, the unmistakable sensation that something cold and weightless was pressed against his shoulder.

The Weeper!

It was a presence with no weight, yet it conjured all the terror of a ghost story: a vengeful spirit clinging to the back of a lone traveler, its face pallid, its smile twisted in a ghastly grin.

Now, Fan Li endured this pressure—the Weeper attached to his back, its head drooping, crying and laughing into his ear without pause. He had the dreadful sense that if he dared to look over his shoulder, he would see its distorted visage.

Though Fan Li possessed resistance to fear, it was mostly effective against known terrors. This uncanny sensation, experienced so viscerally, made his heart feel as if it were clutched in an invisible fist, and goosebumps prickled up across his skin.

Would he have to endure this for thirty seconds?

Gritting his teeth, he realized that even at the outset, the horror was nearly overwhelming. But he had already consumed the sealed artifact—if he faltered now, he would lose everything.

“I can’t give up!”

A rime of frost began to form across Fan Li’s body, his hair now exuding a scent of decay. With the resolve of one who had burned his bridges, the density of his hair increased, spreading like a miasma, thickly covering half the street.

The zombie hound was less than ten centimeters from the mutated zombie—its eyes, though clouded, burned with murderous intent. It would kill this foe, then feast on the delicacies inside the house.

But then, something bizarre occurred. The zombie hound froze mid-leap, suspended in air, unable to advance or fall, ensnared by the inky hair that climbed up its hind legs.

Thigh, waist, chest, neck!

The hound struggled instinctively, but the prison of hair only tightened the more it thrashed.

Beside it, the mutated zombie was likewise ensnared, wrapped in layer upon layer of hair.

Hu Huayao had been watching the battle unfold. There was no question—when he’d asked Fan Li if he needed help, he’d hesitated for a moment. The monsters outside had already redefined the limits of his fear, though, to be fair, this was the normal reaction to such abominations.

Yet Hu Huayao remained tense. He remembered Fan Li’s instructions to watch for his signals. But as he kept his eyes locked on Fan Li, what happened next left this otherwise formidable man utterly stunned.

Fan Li burst from the shop with a shout. Hu Huayao had assumed he was summoning that monstrous creature of his, but who could have predicted that Fan Li’s own hair would grow with such frenzy, covering half the street in seconds? This… this was no human trait.

“Mutant…”

The memory of Fan Li’s earlier words flashed through Hu Huayao’s mind. From this perspective, Fan Li seemed no different from those other monsters outside, or the girl with the mouthful of teeth. They were all… genuine monsters!

This realization filled Hu Huayao with dread, leaving him momentarily at a loss.

The hair’s suffocating embrace drove the zombie hound into a frenzy. Through the gaps, black, bristly fur erupted from its body, and its teeth clenched tight, oozing foul blood that seeped into the hair. Its muscles writhed beneath its skin, as if some new life struggled to burst free.

Fan Li took a step forward.

The weeping in his ears only intensified with time, as if the Weeper’s resentment and fury were being unleashed. Slain by Fan Li’s hand and sealed in the Monster Manual, the spirit now sought to plague him in retaliation, even as it was being consumed.

The chill felt like countless centipedes crawling over his skin, the Weeper’s malice wriggling within him. Fan Li felt as though he were naked, his clothes insubstantial, the centipedes climbing relentlessly over his back, scalp, chest, thighs—it was undoubtedly a torment that struck at the heart of his sanity.

Fear resistance!

Compared to the initial terror, after nearly ten seconds of this ordeal, Fan Li was beginning to adapt to the inexplicable cold.

With the prospect of slaughtered foes before him, Fan Li resembled a doomed soul burdened with vengeful wraiths, moving onward. He could sense the Weeper’s hindrance and vengeance, but then his lips curled into a wild, maniacal grin. “You couldn’t beat me in life—I took your head in a single stroke. Dead and pitiful as you are now, do you really think you can best me?”

“No matter what you are, you’re just a spiteful ghost. Once thirty seconds pass, you’ll be gone forever, never to reincarnate. Go on, keep crying, keep laughing, keep screaming in my ear!”

Fan Li’s shout echoed around him. The Weeper, stung by his defiance, shrieked louder, its scream drilling into Fan Li’s mind until blood seeped from his nose, mouth, and ears.

Yet Fan Li did not stop. Step by step, he advanced until he stood before the zombie hound. By now, his hair had encased everything on the street—cars, stones, the hound, the mutated zombie—all sealed within.

His eyes blazed crimson as he raised his katana and stabbed into the writhing mass of hair. If one blow was not enough, he stabbed again and again, transformed in the midst of the Weeper’s shrieks into a merciless butcher, raining blows upon the monsters trapped in his hair.

He lost track of how many times he stabbed, only stopping when the two creatures inside ceased all movement, when his arm was drained of strength, when numbness overtook his scalp and the hair scattered around him like autumn leaves, falling in thick layers.

“Is it over?”

Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through Fan Li’s chest. His pupils contracted, his body freezing in place.

A wave of exhaustion unlike any he had ever known swept over him.

His thoughts scattered, vision blurring, his body slumping to the side. In his final moments of consciousness, blood-red text swam before his eyes:

[Slaughter Value +15]
[Slaughter Value +10]
[51/100]
[Residual Monster detected—Seal?]
[Residual Monster detected—Seal?]

“Seal it…”

With the last of his strength, he whispered the command, and darkness swallowed his world.