Li Dan lowered his head and looked at his hands. His skin had turned into black-and-white patterns, as though it had been alternately soaked in ink and white paint.
He raised a hand and waved it. The liquid on his body instantly condensed, transforming into a tight black-and-white clown outfit.
Unlike Soul Severing Clown's comical and ridiculous appearance, this outfit had sharp, eerie lines.
The collar and cuffs were jagged, and a twisted smiling face was printed on its chest. Its eye sockets were bottomless black pits, with no eyeballs—only two scarlet streaks extending from the sockets to its cheeks, radiating a suffocating chill.
He tried moving, and his body felt as light as if it had no weight. Both his speed and strength had been enhanced across the board.
Even more remarkably, a strange tacit understanding had formed between him and Art. They did not need words; a single thought was enough for them to understand each other.
Hungry... Art's thought came through, carrying an intense craving. Fear... I need fear...
Art had endured torture in Hell for far too long. Its energy had long since run dry, and it fed on fear.
The Cenobite it had previously parasitized had clearly already been drained of all its fear energy, and it had not tasted good, either.
A Cenobite's fear was twisted and dark, nowhere near as nourishing as the pure fear of humans.
Don't worry. You'll have something to eat soon, Li Dan replied inwardly.
He tried focusing his mind. The black-and-white clown outfit on his body instantly collapsed, turning back into a pool of gray-black liquid that clung to his shirt and became a faint silver pattern. Unless someone looked closely, they would only think it was embroidery on his clothes.
Art sent him a message.
It had