The Quartet Appears

Early morning.

Wu Heng pushed open the pet shop door, and the stench of pets—a mix of fur, dander, and feces—hit him like a physical blow.

It felt like opening the furnace of a crematorium.

I desperately need an employee. Kirsty, when can you get here?

Wu Heng muttered to himself.

It took him an hour to finish feeding and cleaning up after the animals; caring for these creatures had actually worked up a sweat, even for a Cursed Disciple like him.

He stared at the pack, which were busy frolicking, clawing at their cages, and wagging their tails.

No!

I have to find a part-timer to fill in today.

He walked to the table, grabbed a piece of paper, scribbled a note, and hung it on the door:

"Hiring two part-time pet shop assistants. No experience needed. From now until closing. £100 per hour."

Ding-ding. A notification chime rang out.

Wu Heng pulled out his phone.

The message was from the detectives who had gone silent after reporting that Frank had boarded his flight yesterday afternoon.

It seemed they had followed Frank off the plane.

But as he read the content, Wu Heng's expression shifted.

According to the original plot, Frank was supposed to return to the cabin alone to open the box.

But things had changed.

Frank had indeed returned to the cabin in the Hatton District, but he wasn't alone. A brown-haired woman had struck up a conversation with him at the airport and accompanied him back to the cabin.

The detectives had thoughtfully sent over information about the woman:

Giovanna Dursley, an ordinary white-collar worker from Boer City who had suddenly quit her job ten days ago to come to Hatton.

She had been loitering at the Hatton Airport exit, chatting up everyone she saw. After Frank deplaned, he spoke with her and returned to the cabin in her company.

Ten days ago—isn't that exactly when I arrived? The fatty, or the Cap-Wearing Woman?

Wu Heng decided to go and observe them quietly.

*

*

"Boss, I'm over here."

Wu Heng looked up at the sound.

The dark green curtains on the second-floor window were pulled back, and a man with an unremarkable face, dressed in worker's overalls, was waving at him.

Wu Heng sighed. Truly a professional private investigator; he didn't have a single distinctive feature.

The ones in movies wearing suits, trench coats, fedoras, and sunglasses while puffing on pipes were all fakes.

He walked inside and approached Number 17.

"Give it to me."

Wu Heng pointed at the binoculars in Number 17's hands.

"The woman bought food from Sam's Deli five minutes ago. She exchanged seven sentences with the shop owner before heading back inside."

Detective Number 17 handed the binoculars to Wu Heng and reported the situation, clearly trying to impress.

Wu Heng peered through the binoculars at the cabin across the street.

The attic on the right side of the second floor was covered in cobwebs, the curtains tattered.

An open suitcase and clothes were strewn across the floor in a chaotic pile.

Two dirty quilts were laid against the wall to serve as mattresses; it seemed this was where the two of them were resting.

On the inner mattress, Frank, with his mustache and roguish look, sat leaning back, using a small knife to trim his nails.

The woman walked upstairs into the attic carrying a bag of food and handed a burger to Frank.

Frank reached out, but instead of taking the burger, he grabbed the woman's wrist, trying to pull her into his lap.

The woman stepped back, shook off his hand, threw the burger at him, and pointed at him while saying something.

Frank didn't speak. He picked up the burger, cut off a piece with his knife, and while staring unblinkingly at the woman's face, slowly fed the piece skewered on the knife tip into his mouth.

After a moment, the woman calmed down, walked over to sit on the other mattress, and began to eat her burger, speaking to Frank as she did so.

Once they finished eating, Frank wore a strange, eerie smile and whispered something into the woman's ear before pulling out the puzzle box to begin fumbling with it.

Upon hearing his words, the woman's expression became visibly excited. She stood up, closed the window, and drew the curtains.

Wu Heng observed them carefully.

Appearances can be changed, but temperament and posture are harder to mask—especially the look in the woman's eyes, which carried a sense of haughty superiority.

He had already confirmed that this person was the Cap-Wearing Woman.

Inside the wooden cabin at this moment, Frank and Xia Ying—the Cap-Wearing Woman currently masquerading as Giovanna—sat on the floor facing each other.

Xia Ying was somewhat agitated. Frank had just told her he had a way to open the box.

The reason she had entered "Hellraiser 1" this time was because she had purchased definitive information from a friend using survival points.

It was said that her friend had spent over a month in this world with no gains, but eventually, by following a secret code to locate the residence of another companion who had entered the world with them, they had discovered recorded plot details, though the companion had already gone missing.

Because her friend had missed the timing back then, they never had another chance to enter this world.

Now, she finally had the opportunity to enter.

According to the intelligence, the main plot item in "Hellraiser 1" would arrive at Hatton Airport from India at the start. As long as one waited for the rabbit to hit the stump, it was possible to trigger the plot prompt.

And now, the Lemarchand Configuration from this plot mission was right before her eyes. She could soon complete the first plot mission, obtain a massive amount of survival points, and perhaps find other surprises within the box.

She didn't dare touch the other two missions, but for this one, she believed the only difficulty lay in locating the item.

As for the two ordinary men who had entered at the start, she didn't give them a second thought.

Coming back to her senses, Xia Ying watched as the Puzzle Box slowly deformed in Frank's hands. The area outside the window began to vibrate, and a grey light rose from the base of the walls, shining into the attic.

The Puzzle Box continued to twist, accompanied by wisps of electric current, until the final piece clicked into place.

A massive door appeared out of thin air within the room. Behind the eerie portal, a gale roared; the freezing wind from Hell drilled desperately into the marrow of their bones.

Two iron chains shot out from the box, hooking into Frank and Xia Ying.

Xia Ying was stunned. What was happening?

Why was the box a trap? According to adventure stories, shouldn't it contain a treasure map or a mysterious cultivation technique?

Immediately following, countless chains tipped with iron hooks descended from the ceiling, each one hung with bloodstains and scraps of flesh.

They swung and collided with one another, emitting a clattering, metallic sound.

A gallows bristling with blades rose from the scarlet floor, spinning with a sickening whir.

Then, amidst the wails of Xia Ying and Frank, countless chains violently hooked into the pair.

Torture devices equipped with gears suddenly erupted from their backs, slicing through their spinal columns and sending blood spraying everywhere.

The chains retracted instantly, tearing them into fragments.

Soon, footsteps echoed on the filth-covered floor as a black silhouette slowly emerged from the darkness:

His head was carved with an interlocking grid of ritualistic patterns.

At every intersection, a nail was driven deep into his skull.

His body was wrapped in a black leather trench coat, and his ribs were exposed—a testament to the price paid for Adam creating Eve—with various instruments of torture hanging from his waist. (High Priest Pinhead)

Behind him followed three others in a row:

On the left, the one whose skin was shriveled and shrunken, lacking eyes, with nothing left but a lipless mouth and two rows of exposed teeth, constantly clacking together to produce a crisp grinding sound; (Chatterer)

In the center, the female whose nose was pierced by nails, her collarbone and the side of her neck skewered by fan-shaped steel wires, with a hole torn open in her throat, revealing a mass of bloody, mangled flesh; (Deep Throat)

On the right, the obese one with a triangular, fatty head, wearing small sunglasses, his tongue constantly licking his lips, the layers of fat on his face sagging downward, with a vertical, gaping wound across his abdomen. (Butterball)

The High Priest Pinhead at the front bent down and, like a jigsaw puzzle, pieced together the fragments on the floor into Frank's facial skin.

As for Xia Ying, she was a soul of no value, not worth his attention.

He then picked up the puzzle box with practiced ease, his fingers turning it gently, and amidst flickering currents, he restored it to its original state.

*

*

As for Wu Heng, who was a Cursed Disciple, the moment they drew the curtains, he felt an eerie, frigid aura begin to permeate the room across the street.

Moreover, it showed signs of spreading—an aura Wu Heng was intimately familiar with.

The aura of Hell!

Are you willing to trade your collections, monthly tickets, and recommendation votes for two pairs of chopsticks from me?