Chapter Ten: Beyond Redemption

A lifeless voice slowly seeped into Fang Qiang’s ears. Fang Qiang was startled, his mouth agape as he stared into the pitch-black void, realizing at last that he was not alone; others, too, were trapped within this house.

He trembled as he asked, “You!? Who are you!?”

The voice echoed again, “I had five brothers. One by one, they were taken, never to return. Now, I am the only one left. No one will come to rescue us.”

Fang Qiang’s heart raced. “Who are you!? And who are they!?”

“They? They are the masters!”

“What!?” Fang Qiang’s heart skipped a beat. “Who are these masters you speak of!?”

The voice coughed dryly, then sighed. “We all worship the serpent. Who else could the master be?”

Fang Qiang shook his head. “Impossible! Master would never treat me like this!”

The darkness fell silent except for Fang Qiang’s anxious waiting. “Why aren’t you answering me!?”

The voice, just barely audible, answered his question, “Why wouldn’t the master treat you like this? My brothers and I have killed for them, done countless things, and now, look at us—prisoners, doomed.”

Fang Qiang was horrified, his mind reeling. “How could this happen!? How could this happen!?”

A sudden clang—the sound of a switch being thrown—rang out, and the pitch-black room was abruptly flooded with light.

Instinctively, Fang Qiang squeezed his eyes shut. When he finally opened them, the sight before him stunned him.

He was in a large room, its windows tightly covered, letting in not a single ray of light. Dozens of prisoners, barely alive, lay strewn across the floor. The walls were lined with LCD screens, all broadcasting scenes of unspeakable brutality—members of an organized cult, laughing as they held timers, watching prisoners being tortured to the brink of death. What shocked Fang Qiang most was that the screens displayed not only organ harvesting, but a multitude of other, more creative forms of torment.

Terrified, Fang Qiang shouted, “What are you doing!? I’m one of you! Let me go! I’m your apothecary!”

The other prisoners seemed numb to the madness of his cries; not a single person responded, either because they had no strength left or because they simply didn’t care.

“Did you see that sorcery?” The lifeless voice drifted in again. “They put dozens of venomous worms inside a man’s body. The worms tear into his organs, slowly sucking out his blood and growing fat. Eventually, they crawl out through his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. The agony lasts three or four days. That used to be my third brother’s domain.”

Hearing this, Fang Qiang felt as if his own innards were being gnawed at, a sudden, phantom pain shooting through him.

The man choked back a sob, “I never imagined the master could be so cruel, wanting to refine our souls into vengeful ghosts. Pity my brothers, each of them loyal to him.”

Fang Qiang, trembling, gazed at the screens, each one more gruesome than the last. “What rule did you break to be punished like this?”

The man gave a soft laugh, then wept.

Fang Qiang panicked, “Why are you crying!?”

Through his tears, the man replied, “That’s what we asked the master—what wrong had we done? But he said, ‘You haven’t erred. You’ve killed so many. If the ghosts of your victims come for revenge, you’ll know suffering worse than death. When their resentment grows, you’ll become vengeful ghosts, and that will be all the more useful. As your master, I ask you to help us one last time.’”

Fang Qiang shook his head over and over. “No! Master would never do this!”

The man’s sorrow deepened. “Never? I watched my brothers tortured to death, one after another, right on those screens. I fear it’ll soon be my turn.”

Bang! The iron door opened. Two figures in the ceremonial garb of Serpent Valley entered, addressing the empty air behind them, “Who killed you? You can avenge yourself now. Go, find them!”

They turned on every light in the room, revealing dozens more people bound beneath the screens.

The two approached a blood-soaked man, then asked the air, “Are you sure it’s him? Good, take him away!”

The bloody man, barely conscious, was roused with a splash of cold water. He awoke with a start, saw the guards, and knew he was doomed. He clawed desperately at the floor, shaking his head and wailing, “No! I don’t want to go! I don’t want to be eaten by the worms!”

The guards sneered, “Death has come for you. Begging us won’t help.”

No matter how the man struggled, he was dragged away.

Fang Qiang’s heart beat wildly, for illuminated by the lights, he recognized the bloodied man—his former accomplice, Lu Ye!

Unable to help himself, Fang Qiang called out, “Lu Ye! Lu Ye!”

Lu Ye’s eyes widened, his expression terrifying as he cursed with all his strength, “Fang Qiang!? I hate you! I hate you! You pushed me into this bottomless abyss! When I become a ghost, I’ll come for you first! I hate you!”

Fang Qiang’s heart dropped like a stone, staring blankly at the door, his mind void of words.

Bang! The heavy door shut again.

“Why must it end this way!? Why!” Fang Qiang howled at the ceiling, “I was so loyal—why must I be treated like this?”

The screens gradually faded to black, and the room returned to darkness. People were dragged from the cell one after another, until, after an indeterminate time, only Fang Qiang remained.

The lights came on again. Cold and hungry, Fang Qiang knew his turn had come.

“Is it him?” The uniformed figures entered, and Fang Qiang could finally see the “thing” in the air.

“Yes! It’s him! Even if he turns to ashes, I’d recognize him!”

Fang Qiang was jolted. “You!? You! I was wrong! I truly was wrong! The master used me! I truly repent!”

The visitor was none other than the soul of Xiao Ting, whom Fang Qiang had caused to die.

Xiao Ting’s soul drifted in, swirling before the frantic Fang Qiang, and sneered, “When Zhao Aotian and Lu Ye were being tormented, their curses weren’t for me—they were for you, Fang Qiang.”

With that, Xiao Ting flashed a sinister smile.

“Why is it like this!? Why do you all blame me?” Fang Qiang shook his head in disbelief. He had pondered deeply these past days but could find no answer; though, in truth, he’d always known—he was nothing more than a discarded pawn.

The two disciples of Serpent Valley hoisted Fang Qiang up like a doll, dragging him to the blood-soaked execution platform. No matter how he struggled, his body was cleaned and brought forward.

Fang Qiang continued to plead, “No! I was wrong! I truly repent!”

“Do you think death is a painful end?” Xiao Ting sneered, “For you, death is only the beginning of agony! Hahahaha!”

Her laughter grew louder, attracting all the tormentors nearby.

A man, his clothes splattered with blood, approached and asked, “Is this Fang Qiang?”

Xiao Ting grinned wickedly, “Yes, it’s him. Thanks to those worthless police—had he stayed locked up, we couldn’t have touched him. My organs were cursed, preventing me from reincarnating! Now, I can finally avenge myself!”

Her laughter was tinged with rage, her blood-streaked face grotesque and terrifying.

Seeing that Xiao Ting would not be swayed, Fang Qiang turned to the others, begging, “Brothers, I’m one of you! Please, let me go!”

The guards burst out laughing, “We have a blood pact with the master; we’re his true disciples. You’re just a pawn! How dare you compare yourself to us!?”

One guard, enraged, plunged a knife into Fang Qiang’s foot. The others laughed and left, indifferent to his suffering.

“Ah!!” Fang Qiang’s bleeding foot hurt terribly, but it could not compare to the anguish in his soul. “Master! Why! Why!!”

Soon, Fang Qiang was stripped and bound to the execution platform, as helpless as a fish on a chopping board—except his tormentor was a ghost.

Xiao Ting ignored his wide, terror-stricken eyes, raised her gleaming scalpel, and gently sliced his face, a thin sliver of flesh dropping away.

“Ah!…”

The pain was excruciating. Fang Qiang pleaded, “Please, don’t! Don’t! It hurts so much!”

Xiao Ting half-smiled, “I almost forgot—I have something special for you.”

She took a small syringe from the rack and jabbed it into Fang Qiang’s face without a second glance.

“Ah!!!”

Fang Qiang shuddered violently, terrified. “What did you inject me with!?”

Xiao Ting grinned, “It’s an agent that stimulates the pain centers of your brain. Found among the five brothers.”

She shifted her focus, slicing thin, delicate pieces of flesh from Fang Qiang’s abdomen, filling a small plate with slivers as thin as cicada wings.

Under the effects of the pain-enhancing drug, Fang Qiang truly experienced torment worse than death. “I can’t take it! Ah! Please! Just kill me!”

Xiao Ting sneered, “Why let you die so easily?” She set aside the scalpel, picked up a transparent jar, and held it close to Fang Qiang’s face. “Tell me, Fang Qiang, how fat do you think these can grow?”

Fang Qiang stared wide-eyed at the jar, shaking his head desperately. “Please! Please, don’t!”

Inside the jar crawled dozens of worms, each the size of a toothpick, as long as a pinky.

Fang Qiang had seen these in the screens—they devoured organs, sucked blood, then burst from the heart. The agony was unimaginable.

Xiao Ting suddenly laughed manically, “After all the harm you’ve done, this is but a small punishment. When you’re dead, your master will refine your soul, and that’s when true suffering begins.”

Fang Qiang struggled with all his might against his bonds, but everyone knew this was his last, futile effort.

Xiao Ting opened her mouth slightly, delicately plucked a worm out with tweezers, and dangled it in front of Fang Qiang. “Since you have time, why not name your pet? Let’s call it Little Qiang, shall we?”

Fang Qiang clamped his mouth shut, refusing to open it, shaking his head frantically, thinking, “She’s insane—a twisted lunatic!”

Xiao Ting chuckled, “Fang Qiang, these worms will enter any opening—your nose, ears, eyes, all their favorites.”

At her words, Fang Qiang squeezed his eyes shut.

Xiao Ting laughed and pressed the worm to his nostril. As she predicted, it wriggled to burrow inside.

Fang Qiang felt a sour, burning sensation shoot up his nose, making his entire body tremble. Xiao Ting tried to pull the worm out, but it clung tightly inside.

“Fang Qiang, your pet really likes your nose. But after I vent my anger with a hundred cuts, I’ll return Little Qiang to you.” She yanked the worm out, now swollen with blood.

Fang Qiang’s nose throbbed in agony. Opening his eyes, he saw the engorged worm about to crawl into his eye. His terror was boundless—he wished someone would stab him to end his torment, but deep down he knew death would only deliver him into the hands of his even more cruel master.

After more than an hour of relentless torture, Fang Qiang was covered in blood, barely recognizable as human.

Just as Xiao Ting pried open his eyelids, preparing to insert Little Qiang into his eye, a sudden explosion echoed from outside!