Act 20: Scrub Scrub, Swish! Swish!

[Part 1: Body Wipes]

So what do you plan to do?

The handsome and distinguished young man put his arm around Man Yin's shoulder and asked in a low voice.

"Man Yin, are you going to wait until this woman finishes her bath before you're willing to step into this room?"

This evil spirit is a possession of the great demon Fret, a native of Amitlan, a scion of a noble family on the continent of Shambhala —his name is Korkin Romani.

He had a handsome, youthful face, fair skin and a pretty appearance like a girl. If it weren't for the stubble on his chin and the nasolabial folds on the sides of his nose, his face would almost look like a delicate, feminine sculpture of the goddess of beauty.

"That's exactly what I was thinking." Man Yin stood outside the door, refusing to go any further, and said sternly, "There are etiquettes to ambushes, Korkin. I don't want to face a naked female gorilla."

"Tch," Korkin tossed his long hair, his face full of disdain.

The task assigned by the devil Fret was to kill Flavia Cici Marcus. Apart from the requirement that "her face must not be harmed," the method of killing her—whether it was a fair duel or a cruel and vicious assassination—was not important.

Most importantly, it's Korkin Romani's Necronomicon!

If this small task is completed, the contract of servitude can be fulfilled ahead of schedule, and part of the debt can be paid off.

The rich kid can also be released sooner; after settling a few more debts, he'll be free.

A chilling wind swept through the corridor, and a cloud of dust emerged from the evil spirit's palm.

--This strange spiritual energy is Korkin's Soul Power superpower.

Man Yin asked, "Are you planning to take action directly?"

"Miss Flavia is still taking a bath; this is the perfect opportunity. She's completely unprepared and without any Brilliant Stones," Korkin said. "My [Scrub Scrub Swish! Swish!] is secretly working its magic; it will surely severely injure her."

Man Yin knew nothing about the evil spirit Korkin, nor what abilities this slick-haired, pretty boy possessed—he knew nothing of his comrade's past.

"Korkin, how did you come to be in this book? Why did it become part of the owner's collection?"

The young master answered without hesitation, while simultaneously casting a spell to guide the spirit. Sand and dust seeped into the crack in the door, transforming into a chilling, evil aura that rushed straight towards the bathroom.

"My beloved Ingram fell seriously ill, and I sought medical help everywhere, even searching for alchemists to buy all sorts of philosopher stones and sage stones, hoping to create Universal Elixir —but after drinking the potion, my condition did not improve."

"I spent so much money that I was so poor that I had to beg on the streets before Fret came to help me."

"I signed a contract with him, healing my beloved in a life-for-life exchange, and my soul belonged to Fret."

"It wasn't until I moved into the Necronomicon and talked to my friends in prison that I learned Ingram wasn't sick at all—this poor, lovely girl had been cursed by Fret."

"I've been completely manipulated by the devil, and even after death I won't be able to be reborn; I'll have to continue serving him."

"Right now, all I want is to get out of here as soon as possible. I don't feel guilty about helping Fret kill people. After all, the weak are bound to be beaten, and the stupid are bound to be deceived. This is an inviolable iron law, a cruel law of survival."

Mr. Man Yin listened, sweat beading on his forehead, and felt a strange delight in his master's ruthless methods—it was precisely because Fret possessed such a cruel mind that he could stay at the Violet Sunrise Hotel as the lobby manager, obediently serving as the devil's lackey.

Man Yin: "It's that simple?"

Korkin replied impatiently, "It's that simple. Do you want to hear something else? Like how I outwitted this devil for several rounds, only to find it was all in vain? That it was all just clowns making a show for themselves?"

"Oh! Oh," Man Yin didn't press further, not wanting to offend his teammate. "Go ahead and show off your talents!"

A beautiful body was revealed amidst the steamy mist. Flavia had just stepped out of the bathroom and was standing by the sink in the washroom, preparing to grab a towel to clean herself.

She dyed her hair black again, stared intently at her reflection in the mirror, and carefully applied the hair dye little by little to her bright red hair.

The healthy, wheat-colored skin of the person in the mirror almost dazzled her—she was so narcissistic, almost mesmerized by her own virginity.

After rinsing off the excess hair dye, she was back to being an "ordinary person." She grabbed a towel to dry her head, feeling the rough texture of the fabric against her skin. A warm breeze wafted from the steamy bathroom, soothing her. If she were to slip into bed now and let that refreshing and warm fragrance drift in, she would surely have a good night's sleep.

Just then, Flavia prepared to wipe the wet dewdrops off her arms.

A towel draped over the upper arm, gently wiped—

She felt a burning, stinging pain! Her hair stood on end.

"What's happening?! Why! Why does it hurt so much?!"

Suddenly waking from a drowsy sleep, she lifted the cloth covering her arm and saw bloody flesh rolled out!

The skin on my left upper arm was rotting! As I raised my arm, clumps of pinkish-white muscle bulged outwards, blood vessels ruptured, and bright red blood gushed out continuously.

"My arm. My hand!"

The hand that had just grabbed the towel was now peeled away, with a layer of skin and flesh torn off. The moment her fingertips left the cloth, it felt like being scraped by steel wire. Flavia's face showed horror as her right palm was also a bloody mess!

"Alas!!!"

She screamed and stumbled backward, falling to the ground. She kicked at the strange, inexplicable fabric, but her feet struck the soft, warm towel, instantly tearing off a piece of flesh.

The pain made her tense all over, and she dared not touch the strange bath cloth again.

She was gasping for breath, unable to utter a single word. Her wildly beating heart and her terrified mind had rendered her unable to think.

She just kept covering her wound, watching the blood soak through the floor tiles, watching the water in the bathroom roll the cloth toward the drain.

She was completely naked, and this intense shame severely traumatized her. To use a strange analogy—it's like a huge, steaming dog suddenly crawling through the crack in the toilet door and wanting a hot bite. In this state, the brain is completely useless.

"Is it a Soul Might attack?"

Empress Cici finally came to her senses, unlike the easily startled General of Tears.

She was always a step behind, needing a little time to process the shock of fear and fully awaken from her exhaustion. She finally smelled the strange, cold, and sweet spiritual pressure in the air and felt the change in room temperature brought about by the psychic tides.

Her injuries were slowly healing, thanks to the divine power of being given blood. Originally, there were two palm-sized "flesh wounds" on her upper arm. The large area of skin peeling off caused her muscle tissue to lose blood and become inflamed. However, without the need for Universal Elixir, these injuries had begun to stop bleeding and heal on their own.

The proteins spontaneously reorganized and combined, transforming into new skin and hair. She retreated naked to the living room, and as she returned to the living room, the bloodstains left by her injured foot became increasingly blurred, indicating that the wound had completely healed.

"We must find General of Tears!" Flavia's eyes were filled with panic, but she hadn't lost her mind. She looked at the crucial door; the only exit from the suite was sure to be guarded by enemies. "We can't go this way! But if we don't go out this door, how am I supposed to find help?!"

Despite the sweltering summer heat, the humid sea breezes of the South China Sea at night, shifting with the changing spiritual pressure, transformed into sharp, cold steel blades, swiftly stripping Flavia of her already low body temperature.

--In order to maintain the integrity of this physical body, the holy blood within her body searched for the dwindling Homo sapiens energy in her abdomen, and Flavia began to feel hungry.

The moment her wounds were completely healed, she could hear her stomach rumbling. Without clothes to keep her body warm and without fresh human flesh, she was about to turn back into a wild beast.

"Am I all alone? [Fairy Tale Fairy Tale Kingdom]! Help me!"

A serpent-headed, bird-bodied deity emerged from her back. This beautiful and gentle incarnation appeared beside Flavia, but without any specific command or clear intention, her soul remained frozen, draining Flavia's spiritual energy.

She had no idea where the enemy was, how they were attacking, or whether they were human or ghosts.

[Part ②: Rivers of Blood]

Soon, the cold and hunger weakened Flavia, and in just over ten seconds, [Fairy Tale Fairy Tale Kingdom] returned to her body.

--At the moment of spiritual and physical union, she almost fainted.

She forced herself to stay awake, her eyelids drooping, and slung herself over the living room counter as she walked toward the bedroom. She needed to find the alchemy case, or at least a warm set of pajamas, otherwise she would fall into the Gate of Death in the next few minutes!

Why?

She still didn't understand why she was being attacked by such a vicious soul force.

Why are you bullying me? Why? What did I do wrong?

Why?

A terrifying urge to self-destruct took hold, and she even began to wallow in self-pity.

"It would be better if they fell asleep."

"I just want to rest for a while. Just a rest."

"To die in a dream, you're gone in an instant! It's over in a flash!"

"It wouldn't be this painful."

"Waaah! I shouldn't have come here!"

It is not easy for a defeated mind to regroup, nor does everyone possess the incredible fighting spirit of the Nameless One.

As Flavia crossed the living room and entered the bedroom, she felt a throbbing pain in her feet and wrists, as if her skin was being peeled off.

--She took two steps forward, and when her feet were completely off the doormat, the doormat, which was originally meant to separate mud and sewage, had become a psionic trap that could break bones.

Her foot left the steel brush that was grinding and sucking blood, leaving behind a pile of flesh and bone fragments!

She was in so much pain that she lost her mind and collapsed onto the wooden floor. Her head hit the corner of the bed, leaving a bloody dent in her forehead. Her temple was severely injured, and she saw double.

Finally, her survival instinct prevailed. She clung tightly to the bedsheets and blankets, managing to avoid falling unconscious on the spot. Her eyes were bloodshot. This series of ambushes had terrified her, leaving her only able to passively endure the beating.

She couldn't understand these strange and inexplicable phenomena, nor did she know how she got these injuries.

Being completely naked, the pain of having your skin peel off is mixed with intense shame.

She felt like a piece of pork, at the mercy of the butcher's knife, all her weaknesses exposed to the enemy.

The room was quiet; she could only hear her own heavy breathing and terrified, cowardly sobs.

This emptiness and silence weren't necessarily a bad thing; besides amplifying her fear, she could also hear the chaotic yet rhythmic "Scrub Scrub, swish! swish!"—which sent chills down her spine.

The sound seemed to be scraping against her bones, making the wound on her foot even more painful.

The pain transferred to my fingers as my hand left the blankets, along with the sound!

"Ugh! Ugh!"

Flavia sobbed as the flesh on her fingers tore apart again. The moment the bedding came loose, the flesh ripped into pieces, and her blood was everywhere.

This time, however, the self-destructive urge in my heart disappeared.

She endured so much pain that she slowly grew accustomed to it and became numb.

"Flavia!"

The Blood-giving Monster told himself that his real age was nearly thirty-seven.

"Flavia! Calm down!"

"It's not deadly! Flavia! It's not deadly!"

Enemies lurking in the shadows can use psionic ranged attacks, but these attacks are not fatal.

It couldn't take Flavia's head away all at once, couldn't tear open her carotid artery, couldn't break her spinal cord, and certainly couldn't penetrate the skull to reach the hypothalamus's center of consciousness.

She could endure all of this pain.

There's just one thing I can't accept--

--Her beloved Miss Duran, perhaps she would never see her again.

She absolutely cannot die here. Even if she doesn't receive General of Tears's rescue, she must save herself!

When she got up again, she was so hungry that her eyes were bloodshot. But she didn't rush to look for the alchemy chest or the condiment bottle.

"The enemy cannot see me."

"How did he track me? My body temperature is very low."

"If I can't see it, the spirit can't pinpoint my location."

"Focus, Flavia, and keep focusing."

"Don't go any further!"

Her back pressed against the side panel of the wardrobe, in this corner, she could avoid the drafts from the terrace and the living room hallway. She wanted to keep her body heat on this warm piece of wood.

"Did he find me by the water temperature in the bathroom? His spirit can attach itself to uneven velvet, and that towel was like a steel brush! Just touching it would draw blood! It hurt so much."

Flavia pulled her hair back, letting the wet strands escape from her shoulders and neck; it was too cool.

"As long as I'm bleeding, he can find me using these elemental substances."

"Carpets and bedding are also textiles, and like bathcloths, they can become weapons for the enemy, as soon as that sound rings out—Scrub Scrub—the swishing sound rings out, he is transferring spirits to set traps."

"What kind of monster is this?!"

Flavia exclaimed.

"Can't I wear clothes?!"