The Branch Master's blade slid steadily down Bu Ersun's body. "Heh heh heh, kid, now I'm buying the thing you cherish most—your manhood. Tell me, how much?"
Bu Ersun burst into tears. "Big Brother, can we just settle on a total price? Don't buy things one by one, I'm scared. Everything on me—my facial features, limbs, little brother, and intestines... can we make it a package deal?"
"No! Talk!"
The contract was drafted.
The Branch Master looked it over, thoroughly satisfied, then spat a glob of phlegm onto Bu Ersun's face.
"Pleasure doing business, Dean's grandson. Sign here. And put your fingerprint here."
Bu Ersun had no choice. Fine, he would press it.
Once he had left his fingerprint, the Branch Master gave a signal. Someone came over, pried Bu Ersun's mouth open, and fed him a poison pill.
The Branch Master pulled over a chair and sat before Bu Ersun in a commanding posture.
"That poison was specially made by us. No one under heaven can cure it. It has five stages. The first is itching all over your body—an unbearable itch so bad you'll wish someone would put a bullet through the top of your head."
"The second stage is pain. Pain everywhere, all over your body. It hurts so much you'll wish someone would put another bullet through the top of your head."
"The third stage is degeneration. Your hands and feet will stop obeying you, your tongue will go numb and you won't be able to speak clearly, your vision will blur, and your ears won't hear properly. In short, you'll be little different from a living corpse."
"The fourth stage is rot. Your internal organs will rot and stink, your dick will rot too, even the roots of your hair will rot. Your face