Act.03 Empty Heart · Hollow

Foreword:

Pain is a catalyst for character development; it makes the strong stronger, the weak weaker, the benevolent more benevolent, the violent more violent, the wise wiser, and the foolish more foolish.

[Part ② - Round Two]

"I need energy."

Under the influence of hallucinogens, Victor's legs were further injured, leaving them with deep wounds.

In just half an hour, her sharp mental activity and the strange sensory experiences almost completely drained her energy.

The feeling is like a worker who has just finished working all night coming out of the factory into the cold wind of midwinter or early spring. No matter how many clothes you wear, you can still feel the cold air penetrating to your bones.

Objects move illogically, accompanied by a barrage of sound and light stimuli from all directions.

These unusual sights can drain one's mind and consume one's attention, causing brain activity to become frequent and sensitive. Just like the spiritual essence verification process in the VIP tea room, it is an absurd audio-visual stimulation.

At that moment, Victor felt extremely hungry, very, very hungry.

For her, writing has never been a mental activity, but rather a physical one.

"Hey! If you continue to use your Soul Power to attack me, I'm afraid I won't be able to write a single word."

She made a seemingly real but actually feigned threat to Puxi.

"--Don't you have any experience writing stories yourself?"

Puxi certainly understands this principle.

She is a loyal reader of Professor Victor's works. Excellent works inspire people's creative desires, and Puxi Xiaomei often writes reading notes.

Ms. David is right--

--In this distorted environment, if Victor doesn't eat and maintain his physical strength, he simply won't be able to sustain the physical demands of creating.

Writing requires concise writing techniques, emotional investment, and immersion in the characters of the story, allowing the reader to cry or laugh along with them, even if it's filled with hatred. Perhaps the author is the one who, in front of the pen, grits their teeth and rages.

All these thoughts Inspiration require ample physical stamina.

But should we really feed Victor?

What changes will occur once this Morpho butterfly regains its strength?

"My [Hell Neighbor] can't use the precise manipulation of mind control on Victor. Although her soul power can't leave her body to harm people, her essence, within her territory, is simply not enough to manipulate this King of Detective King's mind with just this cassette tape—that's Victor's spiritual essence. Even if she's starving and on the verge of death, she remains invincible and unconquerable."

Puxi muttered to himself, emphasizing the need to repeatedly reinforce his memory and memorize this important information.

"What if I destroy her physical body? That's not what I want—I just want her to rewrite an ending, simply rewrite an ending. The worst thing would be if she couldn't even hold a pen anymore."

She looked suspicious and took a few steps away, seemingly observing Mr. Victor's reaction.

Puxi understood that the woman lying on the bed at this moment was not a weak kitten, but a wounded lion, merely feigning sleep.

Victor could clearly sense Puxi's spiritual pressure; if they were too far apart, something unexpected might happen.

"Let's get some food, add more H16T to it, and then seal her soul power," Puxi thought to himself.

Two hours—that was the time limit she had agreed upon with Duran.

If Victor cannot provide a satisfactory answer or write a satisfactory story within two hours, it shows absolutely no sincerity in his drafting—this Detective King must die here, without leaving any survivors or causing any trouble for the Cult Leader.

Otherwise, it would have been she, Ferdinand Puxi, who died.

Just as Puxi was instructing his men to prepare the meal.

She pondered further, what if Victor finished writing the story? Would he grant her wish, explain everything clearly, and resolve all the suspense?

What should we do then?

This great writer has now come to the brown sugar factory of the Little Brotherhood, where the monthly output value is around four million. According to the calculation of hired murder, even if you cut off her head in Puxi more than forty times, it wouldn't be enough to compensate the Cult Leader.

At this moment, Puxi felt a strong sense of reluctance. Her nose tingled, and tears inexplicably streamed down her face. Then, she hardened her heart and prepared to pour hallucinogenic drugs into the complimentary food and drink.

"No! No!" Victor shouted, "You can't drug me— Puxi!"

It seems that Puxi has a choice, and can decide Professor Victor's fate.

In reality, she had no choice. After obtaining the miraculous drug H16T, she could only choose to continue down this evil path, persevering to the very end.

"I'm sorry, Victor."

Teacher Victor said, "I sensed a sorrowful and bitter spiritual pressure. Let me guess, are you weeping for me? You must kill me, leave no survivors. Now that you've realized this, even you, a crocodile, can shed tears?"

"There will be no more stories to read." Puxi covered his face and wept, frankly admitting, "There will always be a sense of loss."

As the food was served on the long table beside the bed, Victor picked up a knife first, his eyes resolute as he threatened, "Now we've come to a fair and equal duel! Puxi Ferdinand!"

Upon realizing that tableware could also be used as a weapon --

--The girl from Puxi had unfocused eyes.

She tried to protect her vital parts, and after taking two steps back, she remembered her powerful, blood-soaked body.

It wasn't that her judgment was flawed, but rather that the courage that Ms. David displayed was truly astonishing.

That demeanor was by no means that of a weakling who was being controlled by others, whose legs were crippled and whose soul power was ineffective, but rather that of a strong person who was confident of victory and aggressively pressing forward.

"You exploited my affection for the readers to attack me, poisoned me, and won the first round. I couldn't even discern your true identity," Victor said confidently. "You won me over because of your love for the work, your passion for words, and your dedication to the story itself—these things are genuine, and you had no ulterior motives when we first met."

The knife spun at the fingertips, passing from the Thumb to the little finger.

Then a vicious wound was left in the femoral artery.

Blood spurted out, splashing onto Puxi's face and reflecting her astonished expression.

"This is my own doomsday alarm," Victor said. "I must finish this work before my blood runs dry."

She emphasized this to Puxi.

"The poison you gave me has a very strong euphoric and calming effect, which will erase my personality! As for my work, I'll be like a soulless walking corpse. I'm sorry I can't do as you wish, but if these foods still contain hallucinogens, I won't eat them, nor will I be able to write a single word."

She brandished her knife and wrote her autograph on the long table.

"I, David Victor, am now a man crippled in both legs and devoid of all five senses. Perhaps in ten minutes, at most half an hour, I will become a corpse. Puxi Ferdinand, you should think carefully, this is your last chance to fight."

The air in the quiet room seemed to ignite, becoming hot and restless, both unsettling and exciting. Only Mr. Victor's resounding call could be heard.

"Your soul power is very strong, like a drug," Victor continued. "Our brains are governed by various neural activities and electrical signals; we are all slaves to our brains—and your soul power can turn people into slaves. It's a terrifying existence. If I die at your hands, it won't be unjust. I'll be glad that it wasn't someone else who encountered you, whose soul power is the same as mine, a mind-manipulation type of psychic."

"Teacher Victor" Puxi's passion for the story led her to win the first round, and it was this same passion that led her to decide to have a second round of duels with the knight.

She took the glass containing the H16T hallucinogen solution and heard Professor Victor's praise.

"You're in pain? That's right. Pain is a catalyst for character; it makes the strong stronger, the weak weaker, the benevolent more benevolent, the violent more violent, the wise wiser, and the foolish more foolish. An author without individuality cannot write a story that resonates deeply."

At that moment, the VIP almost broke through the door to her heart—

This pain comes from the Cult Leader of the Little Brotherhood, from a silent yet powerful being.

For Puxi, killing Victor would be an excruciating blow, like having his flesh torn out of his heart.

But the Cult Leader would never allow this morpho butterfly to leave Forty-Eight District alive.

Before she could even savor the transformation brought about by this pain, Victor had already wolfed down his food and immediately began writing.

Their serious and focused attitude and expression made it almost impossible for Puxi to take his eyes off them.

[Part ② The Significance of Shortcuts]

"Victor! I feel empty inside! Why!"

Puxi find it difficult to comprehend the brilliance emanating from this spiritual being.

"Why are you saying these things to me? Are you really rewriting a new ending for me?"

Until the end of the first storyboard--

--The paper was already filled with writing. He then turned the page to take a short break. After about ten minutes, Victor looked up at the empty clothes rack, where Puxi Ferdinand was located, and there was a fluctuation of spiritual pressure.

"The theme of our duel is the ending of this story. If I can finish writing it, it means I've won, and you've gotten what you wanted. If I bleed to death before that, then I've lost."

"So what if you win?" Puxi didn't understand. "You're still like a cripple! You can only lie paralyzed in bed and can't move!"

"Judging by the rate of blood loss," Victor poked at the wound on his thigh with his quill, "The hallucinogen remaining in the body will circulate through the bloodstream and lose its effect even sooner. At that point, I'm afraid I won't be able to have a peaceful chat with you as reader and author."

"What?!" Puxi was about to step forward to stop Victor with White Lady's products or the Universal Elixir.

But after taking a few steps, she abruptly stopped and wouldn't move an inch!

"Why? Why can't I move? Why?"

She tried to lift her leg and walk towards the bed, but she couldn't lift her lower leg at all; her feet felt welded to the ground! She couldn't move at all!

But when you turn around and go in the opposite direction, everything is as usual.

"My [Hell Highway] has already cast a curse on you." Victor pointed his pen at Puxi's face like a sword. "Take a good look at your face."

Puxi ran to the bathroom in a disheveled state, and was surprised to find in the mirror that a line of golden words gradually appeared under the twisted bloodstains on his face.

Although the writing was very messy, it was like hastily waving a weak and powerless hand to write an extremely simple command.

Don't come any closer.

That was David Victor's Soul Power attack, deliberately launched at the astonished Puxi as he swung his knife to mutilate himself!

If the soul power cannot leave the body, then the spilled blood is like a ritual performed by a blood-giving monster to unleash its spiritual energy—an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

Puxi's mind was in turmoil; she couldn't understand the strange ritualistic nature of the Morpho butterfly.

To describe a desperate, blood-stained victory against all odds, one would never use such a gentle term.

These three Chinese characters are like a mark of shame, like a badge that indicates the fight is over.

If it were replaced with "[Let's commit suicide]", it would actually look more natural and appealing.

What exactly is David Victor up to at this moment?

She didn't understand, she didn't comprehend!

The Detective King engrossed in writing and had no time to consider the feelings of this Little Pink.

Victor's thought was simple: he must not kill Puxi Ferdinand. If this Little Brotherhood leader died here, her students would be in even greater danger.

We must use other methods to investigate and clarify everything; this is the correct way to solve the [Hell Highway] problem.

After finishing the second version of the story, Puxi staggered back to the cell, looking at Victor with a deathly pale face.

"You don't have much time left. There's at least 1,700 milliliters of blood on Teacher Victor's sheets. You're probably going to go into shock soon." Puxi Girl summoned the cassette tape, preparing to forcefully inject it into Victor's brain, trying to confront the Hunter King's mental power head-on.

She had already made up her mind that she would win this duel, even if it meant risking her life.

If Victor dies here, it will become a demon she can never forget for the rest of her life.

This "Neighbor from Hell" is a soul born from her obsession with David Victor, a powerful spiritual essence matured with drugs and hallucinogens, an aggressive, shortcut-taking mimicry spirit.

"Puxi, you've come at just the right time. I've been pondering the meaning of death," David said immediately. "You've taught me a lesson today. It's been so many years since I last had a near-death experience."

But whenever Mr. David spoke, Puxi felt as if she had seen a relative, a gentle mother. She could hardly remember what her mother looked like, while Victor now gave people a feeling of warmth and comfort.

"You won't let me near you! But you're about to die, Victor!"

The Detective King didn't care. "The unbelievable thing is that, under the threat of death, I'm almost finished writing this story at such incredible speed! Puxi! Therefore, I believe that death is a shortcut!"

Puxi felt a sense of loss.

She only knew that her father was despicable, perverted, and a monster who liked to collect the corpses of little girls and dry them as collectibles.

Victor continued, "When a character dies, all the energy he contained is revealed to the reader. This person's life becomes complete, a resounding and decisive moment! When the gates to heaven open, it forms a shortcut. Whether this person is good or bad, even the ugliest villain will become virtuous as he dies."

Puxi then thought--

--Is it possible that if Mother had lived longer, hadn't died so young, she would have become like Father, a blood-soaked monster, a demon among men?

After a long while, Puxi felt relieved and started laughing for no reason again. Fortunately, her mother died early. Just as Teacher Victor said, death made her mother perfect.

"Sacrifice and death are both shortcuts." Victor's consciousness blurred, and blackouts began to appear in his eyes. "I've left the spoils of this duel in this manuscript. Similarly, my [Hell Highway] will unleash a soul-powered attack on you. Accept the test!"

After saying this, Victor tied the manuscript paper tightly and threw it towards the bewildered Puxi.

Almost immediately, the girl from Puxi turned the pages of the book. At that moment, she felt her consciousness Heaven and Earth Turning, unable to extricate herself from a hazy illusion.

Sam Walker and Margaret's story, just as she had hoped, ended perfectly with a piece written by David Victor, but not as she had anticipated—

--Margaret did not come back to life; she remained a pile of fragmented body parts.

Sam Walker will take his lover's remains to another quiet, remote mountain village infested with demons, to unveil the cold winter landscape and to find Universal Elixir to heal his half-dead lover.

The story ends here.

--This was followed by a string of jumbled characters.

Puxi instinctively wanted to close his eyes!

This is the soul-powerful attack of the [Hell Highway], a contract of the devil's pact. If you even glance at it for a second, you might be trapped and end up signing your name on the contract!

Just then, a crow, as if by some terrible stroke of luck, flew into the room and suddenly turned to the next page of the supplementary agreement in the letter!

Puxi was almost unable to withstand such a strong psychic tide. When she opened her eyes again, she had lost all consciousness. She pushed the wheelchair and took Victor to the door of room 520.

It was already half an hour later.

The red-skinned brat with a halo above his head retrieved the cassette tape from the rich woman's brain.

--The order to "[treat Duran and Flavia well]" was shoved back into Puxi's head.

She sat back on the sofa like a doll and then fell asleep.

No one dared to breathe loudly. Under the piercing gaze of the Detective King, both students remained silent, trembling with fear.

After a long while, Victor glanced outside and Xue Ming.

"Carry me downstairs; there are no security cameras here."

Xue Ming glanced at the teacher's leg; it was still fractured.

"Don't you need to treat your injuries?"

Victor shook his head.

"You must have rung the Bloodhound's Summoning Bell, right?"

Xue Ming: "Yes."

Victor: "Then it's alright—I feel more at ease going out in a wheelchair. It saves me from a ceremony."

A Xing: "Hahahaha!"

Before A Xing could finish laughing, Teacher Victor immediately glared at the troublesome student.

A Xing muttered, "If you don't want to laugh, then don't. Why are you yelling at me?"

"Give me back the bell," Victor instructed, taking his Summoning Bell back from Xue Ming's hand.

She then opened her doctor's bag, handed the bell belonging to 9527 to Xue Ming, and finally pointed it to Puxi Ferdinand.

"She'll wake up in fifteen minutes. She'll then focus on cooperating with your operation, but be careful. Her tape is powerful; there's always a chance of something unexpected happening—I can't show my face on the Little Brotherhood's turf; you'll have to rely on yourselves."

At the same time, the crow that had knocked the pages off flew back onto Victor's shoulder.

Its feathers were adorned with golden characters, and it had a few strips of meat in its mouth—the food that Victor had begged from Puxi.

She used the food to lure the crow, and manipulated its mind with the power of the [Hell Highway] to use it for her own purposes.

"The cafeteria is open now, and there aren't many people. Please take me downstairs; I can push my wheelchair to the station myself."

Without saying a word, Xue Ming carried Victor's men, along with the wheelchair, down from the fifth floor with incredible speed, and then climbed over the courtyard wall.

Before leaving, Victor handed another cassette tape to Xue Ming, along with a letter.

"This is a tape that Puxi Posienne shoved into my head; it can confuse the five senses—it might be useful. As for the other letter, open it when you go to retrieve Yinhe and Jingguang; don't let the enemy find out."

After saying this, Teacher Victor launched himself into the air, his wheelchair speeding away into the distance.

Goodbye, my students!

A Xing lay by the window, watching the wheelchair speed away, billowing with dust, and disappear into the distance.

She said, "Teacher, why are you running so fast? Who are you hiding from?"

Xue Ming analyzed logically and with evidence. "She went on a long trip alone, was seriously injured, had both legs broken, and almost lost her life—if it were me, Xiao Qi would probably be furious."

The A Xing finally woke up. "Oh!"

A Xing then pressed for more questions, still unable to understand.

"Glory! Where did you hide your Summoning Bell? Is it really what I think?"

"It's simple, just eat it first." Xue Ming was halfway through her sentence when Puxi, swaying and clutching his head, finally woke up. "The human body can't digest heavy metals, just induce vomiting and it'll be fine."