Chapter Sixty-Five: The Executioner

Yang Shuo did not want to die. He struggled desperately, trying to break free from the monster’s grip and awaken from its restraints, but his body felt unbearably cold, as if invisible, slender threads had wrapped around him from unknown places, rendering him utterly immobile.

His eyes, bulging from terror, gazed downward toward the base of the building. The monster’s grin, which had stretched all the way to its ears, lifted even higher, as if mocking Yang Shuo’s futile efforts.

This was an existence above the zombies!

Yang Shuo had never encountered such creatures, so he possessed no real understanding of them. Only now did he realize how terrifying these beings—called monsters by Fan Li—truly were!

The seemingly sturdy building was as fragile as tofu in the face of the monster. Without Fan Li, the building offered no resistance whatsoever. Even Hu Huayao would become food for this creature, for the entity before him was not something an ordinary person could contend with!

Yang Shuo desperately wished to warn his neighbor, but unfortunately, he was on the first floor while the other lived on the fourth. Even if he made a noise, it could not carry upward. He could imagine, after his own death, the monster moving up floor by floor, finally appearing at Hu Huayao’s door—a scene of utter despair.

Open the door, and there would be a grotesquely twisted face. The monster would show no mercy; once it forced its way inside, the whole building would become a tomb, and nobody would survive. This was an undeniable truth!

Yang Shuo ceased his struggle. Bound by invisible restraints, he seemed to have abandoned resistance. In his mind, he saw visions of himself lying in a pool of blood, his neck torn by the monster’s jaws, his organs vanished without a trace.

“Damn it!”

Suddenly, Yang Shuo felt his eyelids grow heavy, like doors about to close, forever shutting out the world’s scenery.

“Hehehe!”

“I’ve come to play with you!”

“Let’s go together!”

A chilling, childlike voice, hoarse and laced with terror, echoed in Yang Shuo’s ears. Its unsettling tone made his blood run cold, but he could do nothing—like being trapped in a nightmare, only able to feel doom slowly descend upon him.

“Woooo!!!”

Just as Yang Shuo was about to close his eyes, his consciousness slipping into darkness, an air raid siren suddenly blared from outside the window.

“Gyaa!!!”

After that, the playful voice beside his ear transformed into a piercing scream that threatened to rupture his eardrums.

It was a scream born from unimaginable fear, a wailing from deep within the soul. Yang Shuo’s body trembled; he realized he had regained the ability to move. Driven by instinct, he opened his eyes again and saw everything unfolding downstairs.

Another figure had appeared below. The monster that had previously flickered about, filling Yang Shuo with despair, now hung suspended above the ground, its legs flailing wildly.

A massive hand had clamped onto the monster’s nape, lifting it effortlessly from behind.

The attacker stood nearly two meters tall, his left hand gripping an enormous broad blade that could hardly be classified as a human weapon. Upon his head rested a huge iron triangular crown.

His upper body was bare, revealing a muscular frame covered with dense scars. Ribs, chest, and waist had been stitched with countless threads, and even the skin at the joints varied in texture and color—some smooth, some rough, some dark, some pale—as if his body had been sewn together from different pieces, chilling to behold.

This newly arrived creature was no human either!

Yang Shuo’s eyes stung from witnessing so many incomprehensible scenes. From the way the giant effortlessly lifted the monster, it was clear he was not the monster’s accomplice, but rather... hunting it?

The zombie, whose protruding eyes and ugly face had been so menacing before, now showed not a trace of its former arrogance or terror.

Its neck was clutched by the hulking giant behind it. The monster struggled futilely, looking just as helpless as Yang Shuo had moments before.

The monster extended its hands, their blackness piercing the giant’s arm. What was astonishing was that, as the skin broke, no blood flowed—only swarms of black beetles emerged, crawling along the monster’s arm and entering its hollow nostrils.

“Gyaa!!!”

A much more agonized cry echoed by Yang Shuo’s ear. The beetles seemed to be devouring the monster’s flesh from within. Zombies felt no pain, so the monster’s desperate howl must have been an attempt to kill the invaders inside with the sheer force of its voice.

The monster’s frantic resistance enraged the triangular-crowned giant. In the next instant, he raised his left hand and plunged the massive blade into the ground.

Boom!

A thunderous crash—the blade pierced the hard earth, standing upright beside the giant.

Freed, his left hand seized the monster’s body and tore at it, ripping away all the clothes covering it!

Beneath the monster’s garments was a sickening form. Its chest and lower abdomen bore gnawed wounds of varying severity, and a length of intestine dangled down to its thigh. Within the wounds, flesh squirmed as if incubating some alien life.

The monster struggled, trying to escape its fate, the corners of its mouth once stretched in a sinister smile now drooping in terror.

“What is it going to do?”

Yang Shuo’s expression froze, a premonition rising in his heart that he dared not believe.

The giant reached out again, his left hand gripping the monster’s spine. With a twist of his wrist, his broad palm tightened on the monster’s skin. Visibly, the skin of its chest and scalp turned black; then, the giant pulled hard, tearing off the monster’s hide in one brutal motion!

Like tossing out trash, the giant flung the monster into the corner, reducing it to a heap of rotting flesh and skin.

The once arrogant monster, which had beckoned to Yang Shuo from the window, died a miserable death before his eyes.

Splurt!

The giant drew the broad blade from the ground. He lifted his head—the massive triangular crown seemed not to hinder his gaze. He saw Yang Shuo, and a murderous aura surged from his form, preparing for another slaughter.

Just then, through the fog-shrouded street, two figures approached.

Leading was a face Yang Shuo recognized—jet black hair, cold and stern demeanor. Even separated by thick concrete and glass, Yang Shuo felt his heart about to shatter, yet the newcomer seemed oblivious.

Staring at the executioner from the darkness, Fan Li raised her hand, from which hung a scarlet inverted cross.

“Summoning is over.”

Fan Li spoke only four words, and the giant—who had suddenly appeared and torn the monster to pieces—indeed released his grip on the broad blade. He stood straight on the ground, and as a breeze passed, his body grew faint, then vanished into the mist.