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Chapter 42: The Senior Acolyte
It was an absolute mess.
Li Xingyuan had initially assumed the two bound figures lying motionless in the snow were simply too exhausted to struggle. He couldn’t have been more wrong—they were dead, and their deaths were brutal. Even from a distance, he could see the horrifying extent of the carnage.
The situation was spiraling out of control. Had no lives been lost, there might still have been room for compromise. But with blood on their hands, neither side had any way to back down now.
At the same time, Li Xingyuan noticed something strange about the ground beneath the snow. It looked as though a layer of viscous, tar-like substance lay just below the surface—black, sticky, and seemingly alive, writhing faintly.
What on earth was that?
Meanwhile, the silver-haired elder appeared completely unfazed by Chen Yingyao’s accusations.
“Was it wrong to kill?” His eyes were half-closed, his tone indifferent. “An outsider comes here, meddling in our affairs. How much of Fengyuan Mine’s profits has he siphoned away over the years?”
“If you knew anything incriminating, you should’ve reported it to the authorities,” Chen Yingyao replied sternly. “You’ve already committed a grave crime. Whoever carried out the killing—and you, Mine Director Shi—you’re coming with us.”
The elder chuckled. “Mayor Chen, I’d love to accompany you, but Di Mu wouldn’t approve.”
Chen Yingyao clenched his teeth. “Then hand over the murderer. Hand over whoever killed Xu Anguo, and we’ll call it quits for today.”
“I did it!” someone shouted from among the villagers.
“No, I did it!” another voice chimed in.
A chorus of similar declarations followed, overlapping into a cacophony.
Li Xingyuan’s eyes widened. These townsfolk were either utterly mad—or frighteningly lucid. Perhaps they realized that communication with Jiangcheng had been severed, leaving Chen Yingyao with little more than a few local police officers who posed no real threat to them.
The elder smirked, clearly pleased. Without needing instruction, the crowd began closing in around Chen Yingyao.
Old Liu acted decisively, stepping in front of Li Xingyuan and drawing his pistol. He fired a warning shot into the air.
BANG!
The sharp report reverberated like a thunderclap, momentarily snapping the villagers out of their frenzy. It reminded them that beyond Fengyuan Town lay Jiangcheng, and beyond Jiangcheng lay the nation—and its laws.
Most of the villagers froze, staring at Old Liu’s gun. Though vastly outnumbered, few dared take another step forward.
How many bullets did Old Liu have? Would firing all of them make any difference? None of that mattered.
In this country, a gun symbolized authority—a fleeting reminder of the law’s power.
The elder didn’t seem surprised by the presence of firearms; perhaps he’d anticipated it. Meanwhile, a young man wearing elaborate face paint, who had been swaying theatrically in the center of the crowd, turned toward them. In a shrill, operatic tone, he declared, “I killed him!”
His body twisted unnaturally, like a broken marionette struggling to stay upright. His distorted face barely resembled a human’s. He took two stumbling steps forward and repeated, “I killed him!”
“The ignorant deserve punishment. Senior Acolyte, deliver your judgment!” The elder knelt and kowtowed to the youth.
“Senior Acolyte, deliver your judgment!” Some voices echoed, though most villagers remained silent.
The painted youth brandished a dull-edged prop sword, advancing toward Li Xingyuan and the others while chanting repeatedly, “I killed him!”
“Damn fools,” Chen Yingyao muttered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “They’re insane.”
Old Liu stood firm, his pistol trained squarely on the approaching figure. “Stop moving! One more step, and I’ll shoot!”
“I killed him!” the youth sang, his voice lilting eerily like a theatrical performance. “I killed him!”
Step by deliberate step, he drew closer, seemingly oblivious to the weapon aimed at him.
Old Liu didn’t hesitate. With steady hands, he pulled the trigger.
The bullet struck true, piercing the youth’s skull. Gasps erupted from the surrounding crowd. A handgun round should have obliterated his fragile cranium, ending brain activity instantly—
But it didn’t.
“I killed him!” The shattered head writhed grotesquely. Through the gaping hole left by the bullet, one could clearly see the hollow cavity within—and something inside, squirming.
He was still alive.
Alive in some incomprehensible, unnatural way.
Li Xingyuan could sense it—the locks on the youth’s body were opening and closing erratically, responding to something alien writhing within him. Something inhuman. Something monstrous.
Undeterred by this supernatural display, Old Liu calmly aimed again and fired—
But this time, the bullet missed.
In an instant, the youth’s body seemed to liquefy, collapsing limply to the ground and dodging the shot. Then, his painted face split open unnaturally, as if his jaw unhinged impossibly wide. From the gaping maw surged a dark green, viscous substance, hurtling toward Old Liu with incredible speed.
Even Old Liu’s training couldn’t save him. The impact knocked the gun from his grasp, sending it flying.
Cheers erupted from the crowd.
Madness. Pure madness. Li Xingyuan silently agreed with Chen Yingyao’s earlier assessment. These villagers were deranged. Hadn’t they seen what the youth had become? A monster. An abomination. Yet they cheered for it.
“Run.”
Li Xingyuan had plenty of experience fleeing danger.
If bullets couldn’t stop it, what chance did they stand?
To his surprise, Chen Yingyao bolted faster than he expected. Seeing no clear path through the cheering mob, Chen Yingyao made a desperate dash toward the mine entrance.
The creature gave chase, abandoning its awkward imitation of human movement. Now it crawled forward with horrifying speed, its form contorted and grotesque, closing the distance rapidly.
“You two go ahead,” Old Liu said firmly, planting himself between the group and the pursuing horror. “I’ll hold it off.”
“Old Liu!” Li Xingyuan called out. But faced with the relentless advance of the so-called “Senior Acolyte” and several others wearing similarly painted masks, their intentions equally menacing, Li Xingyuan clenched his fists tightly and followed Chen Yingyao into the mine.
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