Chapter Twenty-One: Now He Could No Longer Move

The intermingling of two distinct hues of blood stained most of the villa living room floor.

Zhuo Yan had chosen the most desperate, life-risking tactic, ignoring her own safety entirely, fixated only on killing An Shi.

Lu Yuan watched it all unfold, his mind suffering a tremendous shock. Suddenly, he felt that the single stab wound he had inflicted on Zhuo Yan was nothing at all; to a supernatural entity, it was no more than a tickle.

Boom. Thunder rolled outside the window. Lu Yuan stared blankly at the gray, gloomy sky; rain had begun to fall again, the droplets tapping crisply against the glass.

Elsewhere.

Thud!

An Shi’s bloated body collapsed to the ground. Thick, viscous black blood seeped slowly from his trunk-like neck, with maggots swimming within the gore.

Lu Yuan swallowed hard.

A figure walked slowly toward him. Zhuo Yan, carrying An Shi’s head in one hand and a fruit knife in the other, stopped before him.

Zhuo Yan was in terrible shape. Her body was shattered beyond recognition, with flesh, organs, and intestines dangling from the wound in her abdomen.

"Won," Zhuo Yan said softly.

The countdown in blood characters before Lu Yuan’s eyes had hit exactly three minutes.

Lu Yuan didn’t know what to say. In this situation, nothing seemed appropriate.

The next second, the villa’s lights flickered on. Bright light flooded every corner of the room, causing Lu Yuan’s tense, restless heart to slowly settle. Under the illumination, he found that Zhuo Yan was not scary at all—in fact, she felt strangely reassuring.

Leaning against the edge of the sofa, Lu Yuan managed a faint smile. "You've worked hard."

Zhuo Yan did not speak; she simply stared at him. Lu Yuan’s heart tightened again. He had almost forgotten: Zhuo Yan was also a supernatural entity. It was entirely possible that now that she had finished off An Shi, he would be next.

After a long silence, Zhuo Yan finally spoke. "Can you stand up on your own?"

Judging by her tone, she seemed to have temporarily set aside the idea of killing him.

Lu Yuan braced his hands against the floor, trying to rise, but the intense pain forced him to gasp. "Give me a moment." He changed the subject. "Is An Shi dead?"

Zhuo Yan looked down at the head in her hand. "No. Supernatural entities don't die that easily. To truly kill one, unless..."

She stopped mid-sentence.

Lu Yuan was burning with curiosity. Unless what? Say it!

However, Zhuo Yan clearly had no intention of continuing that topic. She weighed the fruit knife in her hand before handing it back to him. "This is a good blade."

With the effect of the "Waltz of Fear" gone, the fruit knife had reverted to its mundane state, showing nothing out of the ordinary. Lu Yuan took it; since An Shi wasn't dead yet, his mission was far from over. The television screen had tasked him with treating An Shi, with the final goal being to obtain forgiveness. But how to obtain it? Forgive whom? The requirements mentioned none of these details.

From the moment he left the bedroom to sneaking into the bathroom, and everything that had just happened in the living room, only twenty minutes had passed. He still had forty minutes left.

Just then, Zhuo Yan held out a piece of raw meat. "Eat this. It’s good for your wounds."

Lu Yuan hesitated. "What kind of meat is this?"

A mocking smile touched the corner of Zhuo Yan’s mouth. "What do you think it is? Or would you prefer the other kind?"

*No! Thank you!*

Lu Yuan was a living human; he was fundamentally different from a supernatural entity like Zhuo Yan, and his caution was justified. He knew his own condition; based on his injuries, he would normally need weeks of recovery. But with the time constraints imposed by the television, he didn't have that luxury.

Looking at the raw meat, he asked, "Is there... any cooked version?"

"Would you like me to whip up a few courses to pair with it?"

"Could you?"

Lu Yuan regretted the question the moment it left his lips. Zhuo Yan narrowed her eyes; if she could, she would have liked to turn Lu Yuan into a dish herself.

Lu Yuan waved a hand, feigning humor. "Just joking, just joking."

He took the meat and brought it to his lips. To be honest, he had eaten sashimi before, but eating raw meat here felt nothing like eating at a restaurant.

*Forget it. Just pretend it's sashimi.*

Closing his eyes, he took a large bite. To his surprise, there was no bloody taste, but rather a faint, sweet flavor that gave him the illusion of eating fruit.

*Actually... this isn't bad!* It tasted better than any sashimi he’d had in the real world.

Once a person takes the first bite, the second follows naturally. Soon, Lu Yuan had finished the meat. It was surprisingly filling, and he could feel a warmth spreading through his body, as if he were sitting beside a furnace. The soothing sensation began to replace the throbbing pain, and he could even feel his fractured bones knitting back together.

Within minutes, he felt much better and managed to stand up. "This is good stuff!" His eyes brightened.

He looked down at his wounds. Countless tiny, fleshy tentacles were weaving together to seal the cuts. In just a few seconds, only a faint scar remained. He moved his limbs; there was still pain, but it was much milder. At least he could move normally now.

"Don't ask. It's gone." Zhuo Yan didn't even glance at him, focusing intently on stuffing her displaced organs and intestines back into her body.

Lu Yuan’s eyelids twitched. The way supernatural entities treated their wounds was certainly unique.

Zhuo Yan seemed familiar with the villa's layout. She walked to a corner, pulled open a drawer, and took out a needle and thread to stitch up the wound on her abdomen. Lu Yuan was slowly growing accustomed to her bizarre behavior; as long as he reminded himself she was a supernatural entity, nothing she did felt strange.

"What do you plan to do now?" Zhuo Yan asked. Her eyes were still filled with distance and caution, but compared to the hatred An Shi had shown, this was the friendliest look she could offer.

Lu Yuan naturally intended to proceed with the treatment. "I need to provide psychological therapy to An Shi. As a psychiatrist, I must treat every patient equally."

*Psychiatrist?* Zhuo Yan’s expression turned peculiar.

Lu Yuan rubbed his chin. "Is there a way to wake him up while ensuring he has no ability to move?"

Upon hearing this, Zhuo Yan walked over to An Shi’s corpse, ripped off his bloated limbs, and threw them out the villa door. Instantly, the sound of harsh, ravenous tearing echoed through the gray mist.

"There." She said. "Now he has no ability to move."