Carnivore (11) Village Chief

"I... can I not go?" Zhou Yilin, huddled in the corner of the courtyard, suddenly said timidly. "I can stay here and search the main house while Granny Su is away..."

"Big sister, if you don't go, where are you going to get the God Meat?" Zhang Licai, standing nearby, couldn't help but advise. "Even if the rest of us agree to it, if something happens, we might not be able to look after your share."

Zhou Yilin raised her hands to wipe her eyes haphazardly, her voice laced with sobs. "I really don't dare to go out... You don't have to worry about me, just let me stay here, okay?"

Zhao Feng, with one foot nearly at the door, irritably rubbed his hair, turned back, and spat on the ground. "Damn it, all you know is how to cry. Who's going to coddle you? Get lost!"

Zhou Yilin was startled by his shout and bit her lip, not daring to speak again.

"If you don't want to go, then stay here, but don't wander around." Yang Yundong made the final decision. Ignoring the weeping girl, he straightened the Pu Saber on his back and pushed the door open to step out.

The scenery in the distance was completely submerged in rolling mist, as if repeatedly covered by a layer of white gauze curtains.

The road to the West Village was a blur; the layout was obscured by swirling clouds and smoke, clearly unsuitable for exploration during the day.

Following the main group to the Village Chief's House seemed to be the only option.

Inside the residence, Zhou Yilin continued to wipe her tears with focused intensity, seemingly unaware of the scrutinizing gazes of others.

At this point, no one cared about someone falling behind. The players left the residence one after another, stepping into the morning light.

A gust of wind blew, and the courtyard gate behind them slammed shut with a "bang," remaining as tightly sealed as when they had arrived.

Zhang Licai, the most timid of the group, shuddered and nearly jumped.

Fortunately, the strange wind stopped after a brief moment, and Yang Yundong, leading the way, walked with a steady, reassuring gait.

The group of seven scattered loosely, following the map's instructions toward the Village Chief's House.

The best strategy might have been to split up, but no one wanted to entrust their hope of survival to the kindness of others. The players tacitly understood that when it came to something involving life and death like the God Meat, it was better to retrieve it oneself.

The village roads were winding and tortuous. The unpaved ground was dusty, perhaps due to the lack of rain for many days; the wild grass along the roadside was withered and pale, devoid of any vitality.

The dilapidated houses on both sides were crumbling and broken, crowded together in messy clusters like piles of randomly discarded trash.

Black, hollow windows were embedded in the walls, and yellowed plaster peeled off in sheets, accumulating like old skin on the blackened ground, nourishing putrefactive fungi in the gloom.

After walking for a while and rounding a pond, they reached the location marked on the map as the Village Chief's House.

The Village Chief's residence was a size larger than Granny Su's, but equally dilapidated. Most of the paint on the exterior walls had peeled away, revealing dull brickwork underneath.

The roof tiles were shattered and, perhaps startled by the sound of footsteps, suddenly slid down with a pattering, clattering noise. For a split second, Qi Si felt as if the mansion had come alive, silently watching the players approach, waiting for them to walk right into its trap.

Beneath the tiles, the mottled gate was locked tight. Its orientation was slightly offset, just enough to avoid the morning sun and vanish into the shadows, conveying a chilling implication.

Zhu Ling frowned, paced a few steps to the left and right of the gate, and said, "Facing north from the south, near water and backed by shade—the feng shui of this house is terrible. Even the most incompetent feng shui master wouldn't choose a site like this."

Qi Si didn't understand feng shui; he had glanced at it a few times in the past but wasn't very interested. He walked straight to the gate and examined the lock hanging on it—it was the most common type of mechanical lock. Although rust had crept into the keyhole, it could still be opened.

Consequently, he pushed aside Yang Yundong, who was preparing to kick the door, and pulled a wire from his wristband, inserting it into the keyhole to fiddle with it.

The iron lock clicked open and fell to the ground, causing even Yang Yundong's gaze to deepen slightly.

Qi Si stepped back and gestured for Yang Yundong to go first. "Brother Yang, please."

Yang Yundong nodded slightly and pushed the door open to enter.

Seeing the door open, the other players followed a few steps behind. Only after seeing that Yang Yundong, who was leading the charge, hadn't encountered any danger did they dare to poke their heads in and cross the threshold.

This residence seemed to have been uninhabited for a long time. The massive black curtain used for shade overhead hung loosely. Strangely, it provided excellent light blockage, casting a huge shadow that enveloped the entire courtyard. Frost-white weeds grew wantonly along the cracks in the ground, covered in strange dew drops that looked like dense clusters of eyes.

The low houses on both sides had long since collapsed, with broken bricks scattered everywhere, crunching underfoot. Only the main house facing the gate remained intact, though the windows were covered with paper, making it impossible to see the situation inside from the outside.

Yang Yundong gripped his Pu Saber and walked toward the main house step by step.

Qi Si also tucked a blade between his fingers, following closely behind toward the main house.

"Fuck!" Allen, in the middle of the group, suddenly shouted. Everyone's pace faltered, and they all turned their gazes toward the source of the sound.

They saw Allen wipe his face with his hand, then hold up his right hand, which was stained with something unknown. "What is this? It just dripped onto my face, it's all sticky."

"You're always making a fuss, trying to scare people, aren't you?" the Tattooed Woman complained with dissatisfaction, but she still leaned in to take a look. "I don't know what it is, it looks like snot."

Qi Si stood where he was and looked from afar. He could clearly see that what was on Allen's hand was a mass of flesh-colored mucus. It had the texture of grease, or perhaps like meat paste scraped off a living creature, and it was currently slowly squirming and flowing as if it had a life of its own.

The sticky, viscous state gave off a very uncomfortable feeling. It wasn't so much terrifying as it was disgusting, making Qi Si inexplicably think of the abnormalities that had appeared on his body after eating the God Meat last night.

Allen spasmed without warning, as if he were possessed by a Nightmare. He stared fixedly at the mucus on his hand, a look of obsession slowly emerging on his face.

He muttered "so fragrant," then suddenly raised his hand to his mouth and stuck out his tongue to lick the back of his hand, as if it were some rare delicacy.

Anyone with eyes could see that his state was wrong. Zhao Feng, who was closest to him, reacted first and slapped him across the face. Even so, the tip of his tongue still touched a few drops of the mucus.

His eyes flickered between clarity and confusion. He protected his hand as if guarding food, sticking out his tongue and preparing to lick it again.

"What kind of crazy are you pulling?" Zhao Feng cursed, landing several more slaps. The crisp "slap" sounds were particularly harsh in the silence.

Allen was stunned by the blows, his eyes finally regaining clarity. The muscles on his cheeks twitched violently, and his right shoulder shuddered, shaking the mucus off his hand onto the ground.

The mass of mucus hit the ground and, as if it had found a point of leverage, sprouted fine tentacles from beneath and began to crawl slowly into the shadows.

Finally realizing what he had just licked, Allen bent over and retched, shouting loudly, "My God! What on earth is this thing?"

No one could answer him. Qi Si looked up at the curtain acting as a canopy overhead and realized with a start that the reason no light penetrated the courtyard wasn't because of the thickness of the fabric itself, but because a layer of mucus had been applied over the thin cloth to serve as a covering.

The other players also looked up. The curtain overhead had broken open in several places at some point, and clumps of flesh-colored mucus were dripping down. Fortunately, the speed was slow, allowing the players to dodge before being stained.

But the mucus continued to move after hitting the ground, gradually connecting into a single patch. It was easy to imagine that within five minutes, there would be nowhere left to stand in the entire courtyard.

Worse still, a rich aroma diffused through the air like wisps of silk, agitating the players' sense of smell and appetite; not only Allen, but Zhang Licai and the Tattooed Woman also revealed expressions of covetousness in their eyes.

"Move fast, grab the God Meat and let's go!"

Yang Yundong kicked open the door to the main room, holding his Pu Saber horizontally before him, but his footsteps halted abruptly at the threshold, and he even reflexively retreated half a step.

There, sprawled across the bed in the center of the main room, was a massive tumor the height of a person and half as wide, with candle-wax-like mucus flowing across its surface and blood-colored, vein-like streaks twitching as if breathing.

The mucus overflowed from the flesh onto the bed, then dripped from the edge like a waterfall, turning into countless streams that meandered across the floor, climbing up the doorposts like ivy and spreading to the canopy made of curtains.

The mucus the players had seen earlier was clearly an extension of the tumor's limbs!

A thick, meaty fragrance exploded suddenly, saturating the surrounding air.

Qi Si swallowed hard, seeing a blurred, aged face embedded in the top of the tumor, its nose and mouth merged into a mass with the mucus, leaving only two eyes staring straight at the doorway.

It kept repeating a murmur that sounded like ventriloquism or a groan: "We killed the god, we are guilty... go to the Ancestral Hall and pay respects, to atone for our sins..."

"You ate the god, you are guilty too... you ate me, you will all suffer retribution..."

This thing must be the village chief.

Qi Si raised a hand to press his temples, trying his best to commit the village chief's murmurs to memory; his reason told him these were vital clues.

Yet his vision was hazy, his thoughts scattered and chaotic, and the specific words fell into the ocean of his mind, unable to settle.

Suddenly, a powerful urge welled up within him: the village chief's flesh must be delicious, so delicious, he wanted to take a bite...