Act6 Piece of Me: Take Me Apart

Foreword:

At the core of human nature lies a yearning for the appreciation of others.

Dale Carnegie | How to Win Friends and Influence People

[Part 1: New Toys]

"Mr. Jason."

The housekeeping manager slumped beside the shoe rack, still bewildered as to what had happened.

--This clumsy hotel employee got caught up in a battle between psionicists, running wildly down the corridor one second and ending up in a guest room the next.

"Mr. Jason, what's going on?"

The manager was a middle-aged man with an overweight build and a kind face. His name, Boris Harman, was easy to remember, as seen on his employee ID card.

At this moment, Mr. Boris, looking nervous and with a forced, service-oriented smile, inquired of the renowned Lapis Lazuli Guards and the outstanding VIP.

"Did you pull me into the room? Is there anything you're unhappy with about this shop? Or is it..."

Jason Megan stood outside the children's room, her brow furrowed.

"Keep quiet! Boris Harman, keep quiet."

"This is really strange," Manager Boris thought, vaguely guessing the truth of the matter.

--For a VIP to show such a serious expression, there must be a very dangerous criminal in this room.

"I'm on a mission." Jason spoke very quickly, trying to make this innocent disaster victim realize the seriousness of the situation in the shortest amount of time.

"Because you called out my real name, the enemy has recognized my true identity. But this is not your fault; it was my oversight."

"We are constantly under attack from the power of the spirits. My spirit is not by your side, so I'm afraid I can't protect you. You have to find a way to protect yourself."

"I know it's hard to stay rational in this situation, but fear will only make you lose control."

Before he could finish speaking, Boris Harman was on the verge of a breakdown.

For an ordinary person, a sudden change in spiritual pressure stimulates their senses and affects their mind.

The bright lights in the children's room, the vibrant colors of the wallpaper and toys—it all looks so beautiful, yet it's like a colorful poison in nature, instinctively creating a sense of resistance.

Boris swallowed hard, interrupting Jason Megan in alarm.

"Is it all my fault? Because of me? I don't know anything! Mr. Jason! I don't know anything! The manager told me to do it! The manager!"

Jason's eyes swept across the house, and he could feel strange psychic tides surging in from all directions.

"No! I didn't mean to blame you, Harman!"

Is the enemy's spiritual power hidden in this room?

Mixed in with these brightly colored decorations?

What are the special abilities?

What methods will they use to attack?

He didn't have time to comfort Boris; there was no time for it anymore.

Traces of the Spirit Calamity were scattered throughout the room. Like the fingers of the Hand of Omnipotence, Haitang's soul power also seemed to be fragmented, capable of being broken into many small parts.

Time passed slowly, and nothing seemed to happen. Jason didn't dare to move and refused to touch the brass chains on the door.

Throughout his career, this Lapis Lazuli Guards has encountered numerous psychics who use spirits as stationary traps. These traps do not actively attack their victims; instead, they are like ingenious trigger mechanisms that slowly torment their prey, weakening them before delivering the fatal blow.

Just now, Haitang called out Hunwei's true name—[Circus of Doom].

The Soul Might attack had already been launched; the moment they stepped into the room, they were already in the trap.

"Don't move, don't touch anything suspicious, Mr. Harman!" Jason Megan kindly reminded him, "This guy doesn't seem capable of attacking us! You need to stay calm!"

"But how can I calm down!" Boris writhed on the carpet, shifting his position as if trying to stand up. "Mr. Jason! You make it sound so easy! How am I supposed to control my mind!"

"I still have someone I want to pursue! I was just promoted to a managerial position! This is terrible! This is awful!"

Boris nervously bit his nails, his eyes were bloodshot, and his thick-rimmed glasses were fogged up with sweat from the tension caused by his high blood pressure and fever.

"I still have a mountain of debt to pay off! If I die in a place like this, it will cause the hotel a lot of trouble."

"What will my coworkers and manager think of me? They can't go to my house and cause trouble for my father, that's unacceptable!"

"Just because I called your name? Just for such a trivial thing?"

As he said this, Boris slowly stood up.

Jason shouted anxiously, "Harman! Boris Harman! Control yourself!"

"Why do I feel so hot?" Mr. Boris's fingernails were full of fleshy bits, and as he scratched his neck, some sticky sebum and debris came off. "Why did I suddenly stand up? I couldn't stand up just now. Why?"

Jason's pupils dilated dramatically.

--Next to the shoe rack in the entryway, in front of the mirror in the walk-in closet, the rug near the door is still tightly connected to Boris Harman's hips and legs.

The pink rubber sheet was covered with red and blue hairs that looked like living animals, biting Boris's buttocks tightly and climbing up his calves, clinging to the chubby older brother.

These damned things had just grabbed Boris's legs, preventing him from standing up. In a daze, he suddenly exerted force, tearing off his pants and the skin and flesh of his thigh, before he could finally stand up in a disheveled and staggering manner!

At this moment, fresh blood flowed from the gaps between the muscles and skin, like melting strawberry ice cream, dripping little by little onto the rubber mat of the carpet.

"Boris Harman!" Jason cried out involuntarily, "Stop moving! You're hurt! You're bleeding!"

Mr. Harman's eyes were glazed over as he awoke from his immense fear and finally felt the pain. Looking in the mirror, he realized that his thighs and buttocks were sometimes cool and sometimes burning.

"How could this happen! How could this happen!"

"I'm so unlucky! Mr. Jason! Can you help me? Why are you just watching? Why?"

Jason was about to step forward to help Boris when—

--The pink rubber carpet opened its eyes.

A dozen or so cracks of varying sizes emerged from the bottom of the mat, all staring at Jason with venomous eyes.

Jason's expression changed, and his body began to stiffen, seemingly deeply wary of this terrifying soul power.

Boris panicked. "Why? Why are you looking at me like that, Mr. Jason? Are you wary of me? Are you suspicious of me?"

"No! No, no, no! Boris," Jason Megan explained, "A rug is hugging your legs, it's hurting you, it's the spirit of the enemy, I..."

"Are you scared?!" Boris was sweating profusely, his face gradually turning pale. He looked at himself in the mirror again and again—he was just an ordinary person, without any Inspiration, so naturally he couldn't see any "carpet": "What carpet?! Mr. Jason! I'm still bleeding!"

Just then, a pair of children's athletic shoes on the shoe rack suddenly opened their mouths.

Its upper was cracked, revealing a pink tongue and sharp teeth, Jason said.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart? It doesn't feel good to be questioned, does it?"

"Jason Megan —although I don't know what your Soul Power is, your spirit doesn't seem to be with you."

"If I have no means to attack spirits, I will slowly savor this piece of fat meat right in front of you, under your watchful gaze."

Jason yelled, "Shut the fuck up!"

Boris screamed hysterically, "Where are you looking? Jason Megan! Is there something there?! Who's talking to you?"

Circus of Doom continued.

"This poor creature seems completely blind to me. This is the limitation of Homo sapiens —no matter how many times you tell it, you cannot bring sight to a blind person. They will lose themselves in the darkness. Why should we pity these weaklings?"

"Why not quit your current job and join our ranks, Jason Megan? You're an ambitious, resourceful, and highly skilled Bloodline unit. We're not just purely human; we're the same kind of people."

At the same time, the rug that was tightly gripping Boris also began to speak—

"--This guy's ass tastes fucking awful! And it's so greasy!"

The other objects in the room trembled and hummed along with the soul's power, as if they were about to come alive!

Jason quickly pulled two wind chime tubes from his backpack. These were the requiem bells that the gunsmith had given to Robert Tang Ning. They had a clear effect of both harming and calming spirits. Tang Ning rarely went on field missions, so he gave this gift to the chef for protection.

He rang the bell sharply, and all the noise in the sweltering room disappeared.

Hiding in the shadows, Haitang felt as if he had been struck in the chest. His soul power components were like sensitive organs, as if a person had dozens of eyes and ears. The sound of the Soul Soothing Bell rendered him speechless, and he couldn't speak for a while.

"Ten minutes! Boris Harman! Just ten minutes!" Jason Megan said confidently, "The Gunsmith will come to our rescue!"

Mr. Boris regained some of his senses, and his soul returned to his body.

"But... but ten minutes is too long! I want to leave here now! I want to get out of this awful place right now!"

Just as his large knuckles reached for the door lock, Jason shouted.

"Stay away from the gate, Harman! Don't touch those brass chains!"

Boris retorted angrily, "What chain? Mr. Jason! The lock is still on, isn't it? Just open the door and walk out!"

Before the words were even finished, Jason strode forward, no longer caring about his own safety. In Harman's eyes, this strangely behaving VIP was waving two silver tubes at the air, seemingly fighting an unseen monster.

Blood gushed from Jason's upper arm, as if his neck was bound by several ropes. After a violent struggle, the VIP, his face turning purple, regained his freedom, and the two of them fell heavily back to the floor.

[Part ② - Copyright Infringement Warning]

Jason was panting heavily, and the half-wolf's pupils had turned completely blue, indicating extreme anger and shock.

"Well done! Well done, Boris!"

Harman realized she had made a mistake, and smelling the stench of wolf blood on Jason, she finally understood—

--This VIP is risking their life to protect themselves.

"You fatso! Well done!" Jason said through gritted teeth, patting Boris's face. "You did a great job! Now we're in this together, even if you're blind, you see that now!"

Harman was completely bewildered by Mr. Jason's boastful attack.

"--Mr Jason, what's wrong with you? I... I should apologize to you. I... I have a problem. I was controlled by fear."

"Deep down in human nature, there's a craving for appreciation," Jason said, getting up from the floor and swaying as he pulled Boris to his feet. "Without you, I wouldn't be able to trigger these static traps."

"Humanity's most important ability is the power to turn adversity into advantage."

"Boris Harman, these children's toys, these wallpaper decorations, these colorful things dazzle my eyes, I can't find the enemy's true form."

"This guy is a very romantic and desperate slut, and even while tasting your flesh and blood, he didn't forget to flirt with me."

"The alcohol scent in the air is making my nose numb, damn it, this is so unlucky."

"Without you, I would hardly be able to leave this house alive."

Boris Harman felt a little smug after hearing Jason's words.

"Honorable VIP! Can I really help you? Is it really as you say? Did I save your life?"

Jason stomped on the porch carpet, crushing it and the shoe rack into pieces of flesh and blood, like a water-filled balloon, spitting out all the blood it had sucked from Boris, leaving the floor sticky.

Boris's heightened excitement temporarily overwhelmed his pain, causing him to ignore these strange phenomena.

These spirits have a clay-like texture. Tapping them with the Soul Soothing Bell only changes their form, kneading the clay into other shapes; it cannot directly shatter their spiritual power.

The seal at the gate was the most tight, with fourteen Thumb- thick brass chains blocking the exit completely. Once you got close, these smooth brass bars immediately sprouted fine milk teeth, turning into frenzied tentacles, ready to shred their prey into pieces. Even Jason's blood-soaked flesh was no match for them.

"Now I need your help with a small matter." Jason once again demonstrated his amazing talent for drawing. He took some blood from the wound on his collarbone and quickly drew a scene of the entrance hall on his sleeve.

Every exhibit and every display item was examined.

"Boris Harman, let's play a little game. There are things I can see that you can't."

"So, what elements in this painting are not present?"

The hotel manager nervously pointed to the light switch on the outer wall of the washroom.

--In the scene Jason drew with his blood, the bathroom only had four power buttons: two for the bathroom heater, one for the vent, and one for the fluorescent light.

At this moment, a new switch appeared on the wall.

Before Boris could speak, the glittering Soul Soothing Bell shattered the wall, turning the circus of doom's spiritual trap into a bloody pulp.

"Excellent!" Jason Megan continued, "We've found a way out, Harman! You did a great job!"

"Hehehe! Hehehehehe," Mr. Boris chuckled dryly at first, but slowly his laughter faded.

Because he sensed a new change in the wound on his buttocks—

--Jason Megan's upper arms and neck also showed terrifying changes.

Dense hairs grew out of the wound.

"Mr. Jason, your wound seems to have healed."

Boris couldn't see the spirits, but Jason could see the fine fibers parasitizing the flesh. They were like wriggling fungi, quickly enveloping the wounds and then emitting vibrant colors.

The fibers gradually interlock, weaving into a complete ball of yarn, quickly tightening and taking shape, and that's how it happens.

--Bright red building blocks "grew" out of Jason's neck!

"What kind of strange thing is this?!"

Jason stared in horror at the growths on his neck and upper arm. The toys on his upper arm were even more "cute," with pink, doll-like arms intertwined and tangled, the wounds filled to the brim with these polymer materials.

Boris's wound, which extended from his thigh to his buttocks, turned into a giant Mickey Mouse rubber pad.

This is the true power of Circus of Doom: its destructive power and speed are unremarkable, but it can gradually transform human bodies into toys.

Jason's arms were no longer as dexterous as before. The foreign objects in his arms and torso rendered him unable to move. Forget about drawing; even the simple act of dipping his fingers in blood became stiff.

The toy soldiers in the children's room climbed onto the desk and saluted the nameless soldier.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Jason Megan!"

"I like it hard!"

Take me apart! Break me!