Ghoul

"Ah."

Watching everyone's reactions, Hals felt a little displeased. He still hadn't had nearly enough fun.

Still disgruntled, Hals turned his gaze toward the two bodies lying on the ground. The corners of his mouth curled up, and his eyes grew shadowy.

He extended his left arm from beneath his robe again and slowly raised it. An eerie, invisible ripple spread through the air.

Everyone grew anxious. Some had already begun inching silently toward the door, ready to flee at any moment.

Ignoring their reactions, Hals stuck out his blood-red tongue and licked his pale, cracked lips.

"Can't be helped. I'll have to use you for one last bit of entertainment..."

As his voice fell, the two bodies seemed to receive an order. In a bizarre fashion, they both rose from the ground.

The Attendant's body had been nearly cut in half, but it was still vaguely human-shaped. Without lifting his legs from the ground, he strained at the waist and stiffly rose into a backbend. The boss did the same.

"Fuck!"

At last, someone in the crowd couldn't hold back a curse at the bizarre sight before them.

Ignoring everyone's reaction, Hals simply stared at the two corpses. His gaze was shadowy yet feverish, and his hoarse, icy voice seemed to echo in layers, as if it came from the Netherworld, chilling everyone who heard it.

"I'm a good person, so I can let you die with a full belly..."

Hals's hoarse voice still echoed as the two corpses walked toward each other in stiff, stumbling steps, then embraced.

Two men embracing might suggest brotherhood or a romantic relationship, and either way it might have been moving. But no matter what, the people there could only feel dread at the scene before them.

One of them had been nearly cut in half, his organs exposed through a huge wound in his chest and abdomen. The pale muscles around the wound curled outward, yet not a drop of blood fell. The other was blackened all over, with so little flesh left that he barely looked human.

Even the people of Nork Town, who normally prided themselves on being violent and cruel, felt a chill crawl down their backs at the sight.

Some of those standing farther back even inched toward the door, one silent step at a time, ready to flee the moment anything went wrong.

"Eat a little more. Make sure... you don't go hungry..."

Hals's voice sounded like a signal. The two corpses slowly leaned their heads toward each other, and then...

"Crunch, crunch..."

A sound rang out. In the vast tavern hall, it was the only thing that echoed, growing louder and louder.

The two corpses opened their mouths stiffly, then tore and swallowed the flesh from each other's bodies, again and again.

Before everyone's eyes, pieces of flesh vanished from their bodies one by one. They watched clearly as the Attendant swallowed chunks of flesh, only for them to drop back out through the wound in his chest and abdomen moments later.

The room was utterly silent. Everyone felt their stomachs churn, nausea rising in their throats.

"Scrape."

A shrill, teeth-grating sound rang out. It came from the Attendant's teeth scraping against the boss's bones as he gnawed at the last scraps of flesh on his body.

"Ugh!"

Like the last straw that broke the camel's back, someone finally couldn't take it anymore. His legs gave way, and he dropped to his knees with a slap, clutching his stomach and bending over to vomit.

As if it were contagious, once the first person retched, the sound of vomiting broke out across the crowd one after another.

The boss was still tearing into his meal with abandon, but the Attendant seemed displeased. It appeared the last scraps of flesh on the boss's body weren't enough to fill his stomach. He paused, then raised his own arm and stared at it with vacant eyes. A moment later, he lowered his head and bit into it, swallowing a large chunk of flesh.

But his hunger didn't seem to fade. The Attendant tore and swallowed faster and faster. Before long, his once mostly intact arm had been reduced to a mass of white bones.

Looking at the pile of flesh fallen at the Attendant's feet, the onlookers understood that he could never be full. He couldn't get the food into his stomach—or rather, his stomach had already rotted away.

At last, the unbearable hunger drove the Attendant completely mad. He shoved away the boss, who was still gnawing on him, and turned to look at the crowd. His face, reduced by the boss to bare bones and a few scraps of flesh, contorted into an angry expression. His once vacant eyes were now filled with desire—the desire to feed!

Without muscles to hold it together or help it move, the Attendant's mouth gaped at a blunt angle. No saliva dripped from it; all that emerged was a silent roar.

"Roar!"

It was uncanny. Not a sound had actually been made, yet everyone present heard the same roar, filled with frustration and hunger.

The crowd finally erupted into chaos. At someone's loud shout, everyone shoved and jostled as they scrambled for the door. Some even used their Martial Souls and Soul Skills to get out faster.

There were plenty of high-ranking Soul Masters among them, including five- and six-ring experts, but not one of them thought to fight back. They only wanted to escape. To them, the sight of the dead rising to eat people was nothing more than a show—the powerful man was controlling the two corpses like puppets, putting on a play. If they rashly interfered, they might ruin his fun and give him an excuse to attack them.

In a sense, they were right. Hals was indeed manipulating their souls, and he had arranged this performance for his own amusement. He had also long hoped for a chance to add some new members to his temporary "puppet duo."

Watching the Attendant charge stiffly toward the crowd, the boss seemed to realize there was an untold number of meals over there. He stiffly hauled himself up, his joints creaking as he followed.

The two corpses, with little more than bones left, didn't run very fast. Yet they could still pick up the trail of "food" through the tavern's open doorway and pursue it without end...

Hals turned around and lowered his head slightly. In his hollow eye sockets, two blazing Soul Flames watched his "puppets" and their "food."

A faint smile curved his lips. Not bothering to hide his good mood, Hals glanced around, then walked to a booth in a deep corner and slowly sat down, seeming to relax.

He lowered his head. A Lantern glowing with a soft green light appeared at his waist. Hals reached out with his left hand and gently stroked it, feeling the Runes on its surface beneath his fingertips. His expression softened a little.

In the darkness, the Soul Flames illuminating Hals's face made it flicker between light and shadow. As if he'd remembered something, the hand stroking the Lantern suddenly froze, then resumed its motion, now with a noticeable restlessness.

A low voice murmured, as if forcing down a trace of anger:

"Soon, soon. I'll be back soon..."