Happy Halloween, Grundy

"Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday!"

Had Solomon Grundy really been born on a Monday? No one knew.

The only thing Ma Zhaodi could be certain of was that he had died in the nineteenth century—or more precisely, in 1894. A hundred years had passed since his corpse had been dumped in a swamp, and now this monster had risen from the swamp, reborn with a new name.

"Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday!"

He sang the nursery rhyme he had heard as a child, imagining himself as the Solomon Grundy from the story, because that was the only name he could think of among his few remaining memories.

His bluish-white body looked like a corpse. His tattered, filthy clothes reeked horribly. Powerful muscles bulged beneath his skin, with veins standing out across them. His hideous, terrifying square face carried an innate ferocity—the dreadful living dead had descended upon the world.

Watching the nearly three-meter-tall giant charge through the sewer, Ma Zhaodi's heart began pounding wildly. The half-ton monster's run created vibrations and thunderous noise, bringing a terrifying pressure like a speeding truck—with Ma Zhaodi himself as its destination.

"I come stumbling toward you~"

That familiar melody rang out involuntarily in Ma Zhaodi's mind.

"Holy crap, this is not the time for background music!"

He immediately began frantically searching through the shop. The moment he found Rapid Life Recovery, he selected Solomon and used it on him.

"Sorry, the target's life form is too unusual. Rapid Life Recovery can only restore it to a normal state for a limited period. For the current target, the effect will last twenty-four hours. Confirm purchase?"

What a scam. Twenty-four hours for ten thousand Asset Points? Why not just rob me?

And when it says "restore to a normal state," does that mean a corpse? How am I supposed to eat a hamburger then? Am I supposed to force it into a corpse's mouth?

Ma Zhaodi could only search for another method. His opponent possessed Superman-level strength, stamina, and an immortal body. He was impervious to blades and bullets and could rapidly heal himself. Maybe those abilities were at Superman's level, or maybe they merely surpassed ordinary human limits, but to Ma Zhaodi, there was no difference.

Either way, one punch would kill him.

"What do I do? Is there anything that can control Solomon, or anything that can make him temporarily give up his hostility toward me?"

Solomon's footsteps drew closer and closer. His enormous body gave him a tremendous stride, bringing with it a surprisingly fast straight-line speed. In barely a dozen seconds, he had already charged into the pumpkin lantern's range of illumination.

"Holy crap, hurry up! Hurry up!"

Ma Zhaodi frantically searched through the listings. Suddenly, he spotted a product, and his eyes lit up.

"Halloween Pumpkin Head

Price: 200 dollars

Note: Trick or scare!

Note 2: This product is suitable for all ages. Children can wear it while asking for candy, and adults can wear it while asking children for candy.

Note 3: Adults? Born evil!

Special effect: This service can be purchased using a homemade pumpkin. Pumpkin carving effects provide an additional bonus to this product's effectiveness."

Ma Zhaodi immediately clicked purchase. The Pumpkin Headgear he had originally received from the system suddenly flashed with light and lit up. Items purchased from the system shop could all be stored inside the system, and this pumpkin had been bought there. He had merely turned it into headgear himself. Unexpectedly, perhaps because it was ugly enough, it could still be recognized as a system item after being modified—and could be stored directly.

After Ma Zhaodi purchased "Halloween Pumpkin Head," the item's name immediately changed.

When he had bought it, its name had originally been "Pumpkin." After he carved it, its name became "Ugly Pumpkin Headgear." Now, its name was "Sanity-Dropping Ugly Pumpkin Headgear."

The word "ugly" was clearly here to stay.

Solomon Grundy had been charging at the intruder who had entered his territory, but just as he was about to collide with the man, he suddenly saw him turn his head.

No, that wasn't a head. It was a hideous, terrifying pumpkin monster, grinning like a ghost at Grundy as he charged forward.

The person carrying the pumpkin had no facial features—not even a head. A few hollowed-out openings served as its eyes, nose, and mouth. Strange light shone from the openings in its head, staring straight at Grundy.

Its features seemed alive, making all kinds of expressions and movements. Its enormous pumpkin mouth stretched wide, while its round eyes narrowed slightly, as if mocking Grundy for walking straight into its trap.

"No head! No head! Pumpkin man!"

Grundy immediately forced himself to halt his momentum. He had lost almost all his memories, and his reason and intelligence had vanished along with them. His intelligence and ability to think were barely on par with those of a small child. He didn't understand what was good or bad, but ordinary people would likewise have found it difficult to convince him through complex logic or arguments about gains and losses—and today, his luck was especially poor.

Because he had happened to run into a dogger who was exceptionally good at bullying children.

"Grundy! Grundy! Solomon Grundy!"

The Pumpkin Man's voice was eerie and terrifying, just like the monsters in fairy tales that specialized in eating children. It walked toward Grundy step by step, and the light inside the pumpkin lantern it carried suddenly turned a cold, ghostly green, as if a sinister will-o'-the-wisp were burning inside.

"Born on Monday, baptized on Tuesday!"

"No, no! Grundy doesn't want to! Pumpkin Man, don't come any closer!"

"Married on Wednesday, taken ill on Thursday!"

Its voice grew louder and louder, nearly deafening. Fear instantly filled the big man's heart. Watching Ma Zhaodi approach at an unhurried pace, he stared wide-eyed and trembled all over. His body stiffened as he turned and tried to flee.

"Grew worse on Friday, died on Saturday!"

A series of thudding footsteps rang out. With his back to the terrifying Pumpkin Man, the big man turned and began sprinting with all his might. At that moment, all he wanted was to escape the strange green light—and the terrifying figure chanting his name.

"Buried on Sunday, and that was the end of Grundy's story!"

"Solomon Grundy! Buried on Sunday, and that was the end of Grundy's story!"

"No—!"

"Bang!"

Fear made his already zombie-like legs even stiffer and more numb. Grundy tripped and crashed to the ground. When he turned to look again, the Pumpkin Man carrying the lantern had already reached him.

Trembling, he squeezed his eyes shut and curled himself up, but the Pumpkin Head's enormous bloody mouth never came.

"Huh?"

When he opened his eyes, he found that the Pumpkin Head had merely placed a bag on the ground. An enticing aroma drifted from it, far more fragrant than the rats and garbage he had eaten before.

"Solomon Grundy, Happy Halloween."