What happened?
I had a strange dream a few days ago.
Mom and Dad were gone.
I couldn't get through on the phone, either.
Strange people came into the house.
They killed Xiaozhi.
Why? Where were the police?
Why did they want to kill me?! I didn't want to die.
In a corner of the sewer, a boy huddled beneath a rusty iron ladder, his thoughts in turmoil.
He was soaked through, unable to tell whether it was filthy water or cold sweat. His clothes clung to him like a layer of icy skin.
He covered his mouth, afraid to make a sound, keeping even his breathing to a minimum-each time he inhaled, he dared take only a tiny breath through his nose, then exhaled even more slowly, terrified that the white mist of his breath would give away his hiding place.
People were dying all over the streets. Some were still calling for the police when they died; others couldn't even make a sound. He had run for a long time before finally hiding in this sewer.
He had to stay hidden.
The sound of footsteps splashing through water came from deep within the sewer, faint but drawing closer.
Someone was coming.
"We really have the worst luck." A woman's voice, thick with barely contained irritation, echoed between the narrow pipe walls. "That bastard Kenjaku actually dumped us in the same barrier as those monsters."
"Now all we can do is hide and scrape together points by killing monkeys."
The man's voice was deeper, carrying the same resentment, like two employees forced to work overtime complaining about their demanding boss.
"Even monkeys aren't that easy to get your hands on. Dhruv Lakdawalla has almost wiped out all the monkeys around here."
The footsteps drew closer, the splashing grew louder.
The boy curled himself into the smallest ball he could, knees pressed against his chest, arms wrapped around his shins, teeth clamped hard around his own fingers.
He didn't dare look. He closed his eyes, tears slipping silently through his tightly shut lids.
Boom.
A blast tore straight through the pipe wall concealing him. Rubble and water exploded outward, fragments of rust and concrete raining down on his head. The choking dust kept him from opening his eyes.
The woman withdrew her fist and rolled her wrist, her tone casual. "There's another one hiding here."
The man leaned forward, gripped the broken edge of the pipe wall, and poked his head inside.
It was dark inside the pipe, but those eyes-wide open, bloodshot, gleaming with excitement in the darkness-met the boy's gaze the moment he looked up.
He finally broke down and cried out. His voice bounced between the narrow pipe walls, amplified into a piercing echo.
The man seized his head, fingers digging into his temples, and dragged him out of the pipe, then casually flung him aside like a chick.
The boy's back slammed into the damp brickwork. The impact blackened his vision, and a mouthful of blood burst from his throat, dripping from his chin onto the water.
"You little bastard." The man cursed as he approached, his boots scattering water with each step, every footfall making the boy's heart skip a beat. "You wasted so much of our time. I was going to give you a quick death-but now I've changed my mind."
"I'm going to torture you to death."
Cursed energy gathered in his hand, forming a long, slender needle, its tip glowing a ghostly blue.
With a casual flick, he sent the needle slicing through the air and into the boy's thigh, piercing his jeans and driving straight into his flesh.
Agony exploded from the wound. Something seeped from the needle's tip into his bones, spreading upward through his marrow.
Cursed energy spread through the boy's body, like fire, like an electric shock, like countless needles stabbing every inch of his nerves at once.
The boy rolled on the ground in agony. Blood coughed up from his throat choked off his screams, leaving him able to make only muffled whimpers.
The man approached with a delighted laugh, crouched down, and grabbed the boy by the hair, hauling him up.
Cursed energy gathered in his other hand again, its ghostly blue light illuminating the grinning face above it.
He loved moments like this-the feel of prey struggling on the verge of death in his grasp, the face contorted in pain, the incoherent pleas for mercy.
He had finally managed to reincarnate, only to be beaten into hiding by those monstrous players outside. Only when facing these defenseless ordinary people could they once again savor the pleasure that power brought.
Killing monkeys for points was the only sweet reward this game offered them.
But suddenly, his hand stopped.
The woman behind him froze as well.
She had been leaning against the pipe wall, idly watching her companion torture their prey, waiting for her turn to step forward and finish the job.
Now her back had pulled away from the wall, her hands hanging at her sides, fingers slightly curled-not a relaxed posture, but her body's instinctive response to mortal danger.
For an instant, there was dead silence.
Only the boy's sobs echoed through the sewer.
The man's pupils contracted.
He felt it-something was nearby, very close, close enough for him to distinctly sense its icy presence pressing down from above, like an invisible tombstone slowly descending.
From the darkness behind the boy, a cockroach's head slowly emerged. Two antennae extended from its temples, quivering gently, as though testing the scents in the air.
Its compound eyes consisted of countless tiny crystals, each reflecting the man's face as terror ate away at it, inch by inch.
A suffocating surge of terrifying cursed energy erupted from behind that head, bearing down on the man's shoulders and spine.
Scenes from the past replayed uncontrollably in his mind.
The dying face of every ordinary person he had killed, every plea for mercy he had sneered at, every time he had laughed and said, "Monkeys should act like monkeys."
He didn't believe in karmic retribution. He believed only in power. But now he felt it-a power greater than his own.
The premonition of death pierced his heart like an icicle, chilling him to the marrow.
The cockroach's head drew slowly closer. Its jaws parted a crack, releasing a hoarse mutter, like metal scraping against metal, like teeth chewing something hard.
The man abruptly snapped out of it-his survival instinct had finally overcome his fear.
He released the boy's hair and concentrated the cursed energy in his hand to its limit. Ghostly blue light burst outward, engulfing his entire arm in a ball of radiance.
He spun around with a roar and hurled the blow at the monster with all his strength. "Die-!"
Then everything fell silent.
He had touched nothing, struck nothing. The glow of cursed energy faded from his fingertips, revealing his hand suspended alone in midair.
The cockroach-headed creature's enormous hand was gripping his head.
Five thick fingers closed around it, enclosing his entire skull in its palm.
Crack.
The sound was crisp, like a walnut crushed underfoot.
The man's head burst in that giant palm. Bone fragments and brain matter squeezed through the fingers, splattering against the pipe wall.
The headless corpse remained standing, traces of cursed energy still glowing around its fingers. Then its knees buckled, and its whole body collapsed into the water.
Blood gushed from the severed neck, spreading across the water like a dark red flower.
The woman's pupils shrank to pinpoints. She didn't scream or attack. She turned and ran, her footsteps fading farther and farther into the dark sewer, growing fainter until the sound of water swallowed them completely.
The cockroach-headed cursed spirit didn't pursue her.
Those compound eyes lowered to the remains still dripping in its hand-shattered skull fragments caught between its fingers, warm brain matter lingering in its palm.
Its jaws slowly opened, and it pushed the remains in its hand into its mouth.
The chewing sounded especially clear in the silent sewer, each bite accompanied by the crisp crunch of pulverized bone and the cursed spirit's muttering.
"I like... the taste of iron."