The Phantom of the Heart Demon

"Just now."

Mali Pero was completely immobile.

"What happened?"

Time began to flow again. The sun of Forty District left Morning Light County. Darkness, like a tidal wave, rushed from the hollow dome all the way to the streets, tearing at the arched roofs of the tree-lined roads. It rudely swallowed all the clear and bright pebbles and flowers little by little, and in the hot, misty morning fog of summer, it floated up in circles of steaming ripples.

Mali swallowed involuntarily, feeling his heart pounding. As the blood flow accelerated, his distal extremities began to heat up, and his fingers and toes seemed to become stronger.

But where did Yukiko go?

What's going on with this hand?

Why did it suddenly get dark?

Time flies!

Before his brain had fully awakened, it couldn't keep up with such a violent change. In the instant he was corrupted by the elixir, Mali Pero had slowly transformed from a human into a blood-soaked monster.

The whole process actually took fifty-six minutes, during which time Yukiko became his food.

--The demonic infant born from a ghost fetus regarded her as an excellent elemental substance, thoroughly chewed up, ate her, and swallowed her whole, including her hair, clothes, and even the blood on the chair, leaving nothing behind.

Only a Broken Hand remained in Mali Pero's hand. It seemed that in the moment he lost consciousness, he wanted to hold the girl's hand tightly, and this simple thought gave him a strange sense of peace.

But at this moment, Mali still couldn't find the right answer. He was in a daze, staring blankly at the book.

The lunchbox lay beside the grassy, shady corridor. The streetlights cast an oily sheen on the tomatoes, which dissolved into the soil along with the sauce.

When he released that hand, the amygdala in his skull finally began to work, conveying eerie and terrifying emotions, and driving his physical senses to react with surprise and anger.

"What is this thing?!"

Mali Pero's expression contorted, a layer of white sweat appeared on his face, his blood pressure spiked, and his eyes became bloodshot.

He fiddled with the Broken Hand, trying to let go of this "mysterious" hand.

Mali Pero was pale, his shoulders heaving with his heavy breathing, his chest bulging dramatically as if his entire body had been transformed and rejuvenated, his lung capacity and metabolism far exceeding those of ordinary people.

He hadn't realized it yet; he was simply staring at the severed hand, his mind racing—

Where did Yukiko go?

Why? Did I faint?

--The sun disappeared? It disappeared in the blink of an eye?

Is it Spirit Calamity?

Could it be Yukiko's hand?

Oh no, oh no!

Oh no! This is terrible!

Mali Pero rushed forward and retrieved the severed hand in two quick steps.

He carefully examined the features of the severed limb, observed the details of the fingers and palm prints, and noticed the blood-stained steel buckle. Finally, he was convinced that this was Yukiko's hand.

But where is she? Where did she go?

Was he kidnapped? Was his arm cut off before he was abducted?

Mali looked around, peering into the surrounding darkness. He felt uneasy under the streetlights, so he also hid in the darkness. He could hear some low, murmured voices, as if something was following him and wanted to talk to him.

All of this filled him with fear and sadness, pushing him to the brink of a mental breakdown.

"Yukiko, Yukiko, Yukiko! This is terrible! This is awful!"

Mali's eyes were fixed on the severed limbs, but he felt increasingly hungry. When he looked at the corpse, he was filled with astonishment and disbelief.

"Could it be... could it be..."

Mali Pero considered many possibilities, such as a powerful psionicist attacking them.

The park harbors a monstrous beast that can hypnotize Homo sapiens, rendering them unconscious before hunting them.

Perhaps Yukiko was playing a joke on him, making a scary dessert to frighten him while he was sleeping.

When Mali Pero noticed the abnormality in her arms, the hand holding the severed limb slowly turned it over—

--A tender, bright red bud had sprouted prominently in the center of his palm.

It's like a beautiful scar; the act of opening and closing your palm causes it to fully extend, transforming into the shape of an eye.

"Could it be that I... I ate Yukiko?!"

Mali Pero screamed and howled hoarsely.

"I've turned into a monster?!"

The anonymous educational materials once described many kinds of blood-giving targets of the Madness Butterfly Sect. After the blood-giving ritual, a wide variety of monsters were born. The most obvious feature of these monsters was the ectopic proliferation of organs—very similar to the limb-splitting ritual of the Chang Ghost. In the same way, by replenishing the primordial essence, the limbs of the Blood-giving Monster would grow all sorts of strange organs.

For example, in the case of ectopic limbs and multiple limb coupling, the anonymous person might consider it a delicate appearance. However, if eyes start to grow on other parts of the body, it means that the blood-bearing unit is beginning to evolve towards the direction of Flash Butterfly, which is a very dangerous target.

Mali Pero was obsessed with gunsmith courses, so he naturally attended this course introducing the Bloodstained Monster.

He nervously licked his lips, gently placed Yukiko's Broken Hand down, and carefully pried open the two eyelids on her left palm. A moist, grayish-white sphere was revealed, without a pupil and with deep bloodshot veins.

Mali was terrified by what he saw. He prayed silently, hoping that the tumor was just an ordinary cyst, or even if it was cancerous.

Reality was cruel; he finally realized that he had become Blood-giving Monster.

In a fleeting moment of distraction, when he reached out to search for Yukiko's Broken Hand, he could no longer grasp his friend's remains.

His right arm groped for the clean chair; he turned his hand over again, his mind reeling from the shock.

--The palm of the right hand seemed to be more severely distorted, with a hideous crack splitting open from the M-shaped horizontal lines on the fleshy palm, from which a long, steaming tongue emerged.

It made a terrifying creaking sound, and as the palm opened and closed, sharp teeth went up and down. Mali watched helplessly as Yukiko's severed hand was completely processed into minced meat, which flowed into his arm and turned into a warm current.

"Me, me, me, me."

Mali Pero wept bitterly, utterly consumed by fear.

"I ate Yukiko? I... I..."

In that instant, his worldview collapsed. Everything familiar, including his life's phased goals and long-term plans, the values he had always aspired to, and the ideals he wanted to achieve, all crumbled.

A sharp, throbbing pain shot through her arm, and moments later, that hideous mouth spat out a twisted, deformed piece of scrap steel— Yukiko's belt buckle.

"The nameless one will not let me go. The nameless one will not let me go."

Mali Pero's tears flowed uncontrollably. He looked down at the two fleshy paws, then suddenly ran like a madman into the deeper, darker part of the dense forest.

Beside the artificial lake in the western suburbs park, the watchman's hut still has some lights on.

Mali squatted by the dock, began to sob weakly, and started to rethink the meaning of life.

"The nameless man won't let me go. The person I admire most is coming to take my life."

"I'm innocent! I'm a victim too!"

"I don't want to eat human flesh! Damn it!"

Mali's reflection was mirrored on the calm water. He looked no different than before, except that his dark red hair had become more vibrant and his eyes had turned blood red; perhaps a pair of colored contact lenses could fix that.

No one will believe the words of a blood-soaked monster.

How can I explain all of this?

Did I really eat Yukiko? Is she really dead?

"Could it be a hallucination? Or a prank?"

Mali Pero muttered to himself, huddled by the dock, a chill running down his spine as he felt the cold, damp air.

He seemed to be able to see the gunsmith, transcend the barriers of time and space, and sense the nameless man's chilling killing intent.

"Please let me explain, give me a chance! Please listen to my explanation, Gunsmith Master!"

"I'm not your student, but I come to your class every day."

"I want to be like you, instead of being executed by you."

"I didn't kill Yukiko! No! No! It's not what you think. No. I didn't eat her, I didn't, I didn't."

Mali Pero murmured.

"I didn't, I didn't. I didn't."

Just then, the "mouth" from the right arm spoke.

"No, no, that's not right. No, no, no, no, no, that's not right."

Mali Pero froze, then abruptly raised his arm in a state of tense fear, as if facing a formidable enemy.

Pellegrini's soul power was attached to this elixir, and with the elixir as a medium, he became one with Mali's flesh and blood.

This is a profound and mysterious form of witchcraft. Through this method, the caster can transmit spiritual energy to extremely distant places, control the minds of others, influence their sanity, and manipulate their bodies. This achieves the effect of "spirit possession," which is almost equivalent to giving the power of Soul Might [Storm Eye] to Mali Pero, while also being able to stay by the host's side and whine incessantly.

At this moment, [Storm Eye Of The Storm], acting as Pellegrini's mouthpiece, tells Mali about the cause and effect, and seriously corrects his ways.

"Wait a minute, Mali Pero."

"You're wrong, it was you who ate Yukiko."

Mali didn't reply. He spread his two fleshy palms, his eyes seemed to spit fire, and no more tears flowed.

The Storm Eye continued--

"--What should we do? What would you do?"

"Now you have become a monster that devours human flesh, blessed by the elixir, and gained unparalleled power."

What's with that look in your eyes? Are you angry with me?

Mali Pero roared--

"Get out of my body! Give Yukiko back to me! Give her back to me! You're the one who did all this? You bastard! You beast! You're worse than a pig or a dog!"

The Storm Eye spoke with unusual calm.

"Mali Pero, what's with that weak and helpless look on your face?"

"Your heart yearns for power, for freedom, for authority."

"I'm observing your thinking. Not long ago, you were bossing your female companion around and trying to drive her out of your life, but now you seem like a completely different person."

"Have you always been a weak-willed, indecisive piece of trash?"

"That's interesting. This isn't your ideal life. You need to be focused, patient, and control your emotions—right? That's what you want."

Mali Pero stood up and strode toward the woods, cursing viciously at his right arm, his voice hoarse from clenched teeth.

"You like doing this? Hmm. Good. That's great!"

"You think I'd admit defeat and listen to your nonsense? The gunsmith master won't let you get away with this! I have to maintain my fighting spirit; I'm going to keep fighting you demons! I won't listen to anything you say!"

He huffed and puffed, blinded by anger, and went to the logging post in the forest, picking up a rusty logging axe.

He rested his arm on the post.

"--Now can we talk this over? You bastard! What are you anyway? If you're human! Tell me where you are! I'll come and take your dog's life right now!"

"If you're just a parasite, a byproduct of Vita Imprint, then I'm saying goodbye! Go back to hell!"

Storm Eye: "Are you serious, Mali Pero?"

Mali raised his axe. "You had three chances to speak, and you've already used one."

Storm Eye: "I can give you a lot, honestly—when you were still a Homo sapiens, your fundamental composition was like a lump of mud, a defective product that couldn't be plastered on a wall. Talent was just a pipe dream for you. You could only use more time, more concentration, and extraordinary effort to get a tiny bit of reward—is that really fair? Mali Pero, is that really fair? Why are some people so outstanding? Because they have equally outstanding fathers and mothers."

The arm that was holding the axe high suddenly froze, and Mali Pero's expression subtly changed.

Storm Eye: "Is this the second or the third sentence? I know I've said a lot, but..."

"Count to the second sentence, you have one last chance," Mali Pero replied.

Storm Eye: "My name is Pellegrini, an Immortals. I can grant you immense divine power. To ordinary people, those of us who are ageless and immortal are gods."

Mali Pero swung his axe and chopped it hard into the wooden stake.

The axe blade stopped beside his arm, its long, scarlet tongue trembling slightly amidst the flying wood chips.

Storm Eye continued, "It seems we've reached a brief consensus, and perhaps we can chat a bit more now?"

Mali did not reply; his left arm, gripping the axe, remained frozen and motionless.

"Go on."

Storm Eye continued—

"--Where to begin? Where to continue?"

Mali: "Start with great people, and continue with great parents."

The Storm Eye became excited, believing it had found Mali Pero's Gate of Death, a very good breakthrough.

"You don't have these things, so the fault doesn't lie with you, it's with your parents. I understand you, really, I understand you very well."

"Having lived in this world for so many years, I have witnessed countless tragedies, most of which stem from families."

"Parents who raise murderers are usually criminals themselves; those who achieve great things often come from happy and fulfilling families."

"Children who are verbally abused, beaten, and harshly scolded from a young age will either grow up to be weak-willed and mentally distorted psychopaths, or they will become cowardly and scumbags who are all bark and no bite."

"Look at the outstanding individuals; aren't they all shaped by the genetic makeup of their parents, coupled with the positive environment that nurtured them during their childhood and adolescence? They are proud, brave, and full of confidence. Even when faced with setbacks and failures, they have the courage to change their destiny. They possess extraordinary insight and vision, making them outstanding leaders. These qualities are less a matter of talent and more a matter of the environment and parents that shaped them."

"Deep within your mind, there has always been this inner demon."

"Your father and mother are nothing but imposters. They preach to you spells they themselves cannot even perform, yet they expect you to cast them. Time and again, they use common sense they have never practiced in their lives to teach you, such as to be polite and noble, but they themselves do not know what nobility and politeness mean."

"This world is just so unfair, Mali Pero."

"Without me, you would still be that weak and incompetent coward, trying to get a commensurate reward through double the focus and double the effort. But even with rest and training time far exceeding that of a superhuman, these things won't bring about any substantial change."

"You know, fundamentally, you can't compare to those [geniuses] --"

"--Actually, I really hate the term 'genius,' as if every miracle can be explained by genius."

"Can a gunsmith be considered a genius? He's our mortal enemy, like a divine messenger sent by heaven to strangle us."

"He must have come from a very privileged family background."

"Otherwise, how could such a powerful elementary configuration be formed?"

"So from the very beginning, Mali Pero, your goal was wrong, and your ideals were absurd."

"The Blood Transfusion Pill can make you extraordinary, surpassing ordinary people, crushing other spiritualists of the same level, and even killing powerful beings like VIPs."

"Pero."

"Look, the world is so strange. One second we're fighting to the death over a woman who's already dead."

"If you hate this woman, I'll turn her into food; it's a kind of waste utilization. After all, every sacred life that has just been born needs a mother's milk."

"You can remember her, see her as a new mother who gave you a second life—but do not grieve, for she has become one with you, and you are no longer separate."

"Your strength comes from her, and your achievements and honors will return to her."

"Yukiko Haruta is a part of you, just like me. Just like me. Just like me?"

Before he could finish speaking, the axe had already fallen.

Mali Pero brutally severed his right arm.

His blood-red eyes were filled with violence and madness.

The pain from severing his arm contorted his face, and veins bulged in his neck.

The blood gushing from his arm looked like a fire hydrant exploding, turning the wooden stake red.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! You bastard!"

Mali roared.

"It fucking hurts! It fucking hurts so much! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

The Storm Eye has met its match. Unlike his weak and powerless parents, this child seems to possess an extraordinary determination.

It lay paralyzed in the damp fallen leaves of the forest, its blood seeping deeper and deeper into the layers of leaves.

The severed hand began to crawl again, once more reaching the wooden stake.

The Storm Eye tried to reason with them gently.

"Do you know how much human flesh we have to eat to repair this kind of injury? Mali Pero —harming yourself is also a sign of inner weakness. You can't get rid of me; we've completely become [one person], literally [one person]."

Mali roared, "Give Yukiko back to me!"

Storm Eye replied, "How can I return it to you? Should I just chew it up and put it back together?"

Mali then yelled, "Give me back my life! Give me back the freedom I deserve! Give me back my life!"

Storm Eye continued, "Perhaps there are ways to transform corpses into walking corpses that can meet your needs. I need to carefully examine my old psionic magic notes—it will take a little time. Of course, there's a price to pay; you'll need to do some small, insignificant things for me."

Mali slumped down beside the wooden stake, his body weak and powerless. He could only watch helplessly as the terrifying and eerie hand pieced itself back together and squeezed back into the severed arm, soon becoming whole again without leaving a scar.

The Storm Eye continued--

"--If I can't persuade you or change your mind, then I'll have to threaten you."

Mali's eyelids drooped, and he was already quite tired. He felt increasingly hungry and thirsty.

"Bullshit! I won't do anything for you! Don't get any ideas."

The Storm Eye softly called out to the person Mali Pero cared about most.

"If you don't want to do it, someone else will—if little Groba Pero is also to become Blood-giving Monster, how will you deal with that?"

Mali's eyes snapped open—

He finally gave up, as if he had used up all his courage.

The axe slipped from his hand, revealing the eye in his palm.

It was originally a gray blur, but now it's moving vividly, its blood-red pupils suddenly straightening.

The Eye of the Storm stared at the disheartened Mali Pero and finally found the right answer.