Bai Haorui was covered in wounds, his clothes were soaked with blood, and blood foam kept pouring out of the corners of his mouth. However, he still used his remaining Pure Yang True Fire to hold up a barrier in front of Dean's body to stop the swarming demons. Even if his meridians were cut off, he did not take a step back;
In the silent cemetery, it rained heavily. Sam hugged Dean's cold body and refused to let go. Bobby held up salt and gasoline with red eyes and persuaded him to press the hunter's button. Cremation in accordance with the rules, Bai Haorui coughed up blood, held down Bobby's arm, and said in a hoarse voice, "Listen to him, leave him complete thoughts, and also leave Sam with hope";
Dean fell into the boundless darkness, and the harsh sound of the iron chain rubbing, the devil's grin, and the sizzling sound of the iron on the flesh were entangled. His face was covered with blood, and his eyes were filled with the despair of collapse.
In the boundless darkness, there was only the sound of breathing so violent that it was about to explode.
Dean suddenly woke up, his chest was like a bellows with a hole, and every inhalation brought with it a sharp pain like sandpaper rubbing against his throat. The fragmented scenes in Hell were still flashing in his mind - the iron chains locked his limbs, the soldering iron burned into his flesh, and those twisted, inhuman screams lingered in his ears, lingering.
He trembled and touched his whole body, and finally found the disposable lighter in his jeans pocket. There was a click, and a weak flame jumped up, illuminating the narrow wooden inner wall in front of him.
He is in a coffin.
The soil kept falling down along the cracks in the coffin lid, landing on his face and neck, carrying a moist smell of decay.
"Help! Help! Help!"
Dean's voice was so hoarse that he could hardly make a sound, but he banged the coffin lid as hard as he could. His knuckles hit the wood hard and soon cracked and bled. However, he seemed to feel no pain. He hit it with his shoulder and dug into the gaps in the coffin lid with his hands. His fingernails split and were embedded in the wood mixed with blood.
Finally, he pried open a crack in the coffin lid, and the soil poured in crazily, making him cough. He used all his strength to push open the soil, like an evil ghost crawling out of Hell, and finally crashed into the dazzling sunlight from six feet deep underground.
Wasn't I fucking torn apart by those sons of bitches in Hell? Why am I here? Sam...Sam How have you been in the past four months? You didn't do anything stupid for me again, did you?
Dean collapsed on the grass, gasping for air, coughing so hard that his lungs felt as heavy as lead.
He stood up with his hands on the ground, and the dazzling sunlight made him squint his eyes. He lowered his head and saw his tombstone - it was engraved on it: Dean·Winchester 1979-2008.
Around the tombstone, there was a circle of big trees as thick as two people hugging each other. All of them were broken at the waist, and the dead trunks fell to the ground. The charred fractures seemed to have been exploded from the ground by a very strong force, and fell radially to the surroundings, like the ruins of a nuclear bomb.
Dean's brows locked instantly, his eyes full of vigilance and doubt.
At the same time, there was a sealed underground chamber with no windows, only the words Yang Gathering Talisman painted on the surrounding walls, and a circle of burning white candles in the central circle.
Bai Haorui was sitting cross-legged in the center of the formation, with his eyes closed tightly. A faint red-gold color lingered all over his body. True Fire There was cold sweat on his forehead, his teeth were clenched, and even his jawline was trembling.
The fifth level of "Three Altars Body-Refining True Fire Art" [Muscle and Bone Forging·Bone Refinement into Steel] has reached the most critical moment. True Fire is melting the last few core points in the lumbar vertebrae little by little. The tearing burning pain coming from the bone marrow is like countless red-hot knives scraping inside, and every breath consumes all the willpower.
The moment Dean crawled out of the grave, Bai Haorui's body trembled suddenly, and the golden fire left by Nezha between his eyebrows suddenly started to beat crazily., an extremely overbearing pure Yang divine aura rushed in along the perception, his throat felt sweet, and he swallowed a mouthful of blood back into his throat. True Fire, which was originally flowing smoothly, instantly flowed chaotically, causing his meridians to tingle.
This aura... is it Dean?! His soul aura actually came back from Hell? No, there is also a force... the extremely domineering power of pure Yang, not a demon, not any evil spirit I have ever seen... an angel?! Except for the guys from Heaven, no one can fish people out of the contract of Hell!
He subconsciously wanted to forcefully withdraw his skills and get out of seclusion, but as soon as the thought occurred, the burning pain in his bone marrow doubled instantly. He groaned, and all the muscles in his body twitched. He could only grit his teeth, regain his concentration, and guide the scurrying True Fire back to his meridians little by little.
No... it must not stop. These acupuncture points in the lumbar spine are being melted. Once it is interrupted, the four months of hard work will be completely wasted. The meridians will be cut off, the realm will drop, and the soul will be damaged. Let alone help them, you will become a burden...Sam This kid is just a stubborn donkey!
Dean stared at the fallen tree and unconsciously touched his chest with his fingers. The wound that was originally torn by Hellhound was now flat and smooth without a trace of scar. He frowned, turned around and limped forward along the road.
The midday sun made the asphalt road hot. On the deserted road, only Dean staggered forward.
His T-shirt was stained with mud and dried blood, and his lips were chapped and peeled, but his eyes were always alert, his ears were listening to the movements around him, and his hands were always on his waist - the gun that was originally attached there was now long gone.
After walking for almost half an hour, an abandoned gas station finally appeared on the roadside. The glass was covered with thick dust and it looked like it had been deserted for a long time. Dean walked over and smashed the rolling shutter door hard.
"Is anyone there?"
The hoarse voice spread on the empty road without any response.
There is no time in Hell. How long has passed? No, Sam, that kid will never just watch me die. He must have done something...
Dean wrapped his right fist with his coat, smashed the glass on the door, reached in and unlocked the door, pushed the door open and walked in.
There was a dusty and musty smell in the store, and the refrigerator was still buzzing. He rushed over and opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a bottle of mineral water, unscrewed the cap and poured it into his mouth. The cold water passed through his dry throat. He drank too fast, choking and coughing, and tears were about to come out.
After regaining his composure, he glanced at the cashier counter. There was a newspaper spread out on top, with the date printed on the front page: Thursday, September 18th.
"September..."
Dean's voice was filled with shock. He ran his fingers over the date on the newspaper and was stunned. He remembered clearly that the day he was bitten by Hellhound was May 2nd.
Four months? So only four months have passed in this world?
The mirror in the bathroom was cracked and stained with thick dust. Dean turned on the faucet, and the murky water finally became clear after a long time. He picked up cold water and splashed it on his face. The cold water cleared his chaotic mind.
He looked up at the mirror and yanked up the black T-shirt he was wearing - the area on his chest that had been torn to pieces by Hellhound, with even his internal organs exposed, was as smooth as before, without even a shallow scar, as if that heartbreaking death was just a nightmare.
Dean paused for breath, turned around suddenly, and pulled up his left sleeve.
In the mirror, there was a bright red and ferocious palm-shaped brand printed on the bicep of his left arm, as if a red-hot iron palm had been pressed into the flesh. There was still a faint red color around the edge, as if it had just been branded not long ago.
Hellhound rushed over, tearing open his chest with sharp fangs. Severe pain swept through his body, and darkness swallowed him instantly.
Dean stared at the palm prints in the mirror, his brows furrowed tightly, his eyes full of doubts and vigilance.
What the hell is this? The thing that dragged me out of Hell? No one except Sam would go to such trouble to fish me out... What price did this kid pay?
Dean walked back to the convenience store, bought a few packs of energy bars, beef jerky and bottles of water from the shelves and stuffed them into plastic bags. When passing by the magazine rack, he grinned and took a copy of "Busty Asian Beauties" with a hot cover, flipped through it twice and stuffed it into the bag.
He walked to the cashier, pressed a button, and the cash register drawer popped open. There were still a few scattered US dollars in it. He took them all out and stuffed them into his pocket.
At this moment, the TV on his left suddenly turned on automatically, and the screen was filled with beating snowflakes, making a sizzling sound. Dean frowned, walked over and pressed the power button, but as soon as he turned around, the radio on his right automatically turned on again, emitting a harsh white noise with a volume that shook his ears.
Dean tensed up his nerves instantly, grabbed a large bag of salt on the shelf, tore open the package, and quickly spread a line of salt along the window sill and door cracks. Without stopping, he sealed the doors and windows of the entire convenience store.
Suddenly, a burst of extremely sharp high-frequency noise sounded, like countless needles piercing into his brain. Dean covered his left ear and squatted on the ground in pain. The salt box fell from his hand to the ground, and the salt spread all over the floor.
The glass above his head exploded with a "clang", and then, the glass windows of the entire store and the glass bottles on the shelves exploded one after another, and the fragments were scattered everywhere. Dean huddled on the ground, gritting his teeth. When the noise finally disappeared, he raised his head and looked around cautiously. There was no one in the store, only the mess on the floor.
Not daring to stay any longer, he grabbed the plastic bag on the ground and quickly rushed out of the gas station.
The moment the high-frequency noise sounded, Bai Haorui heard the real voice of the angel clearly in his ears. Even though it was dozens of kilometers away, that sacred, crushing and oppressive voice still crashed in along his perception.
The golden fire between his eyebrows flashed crazily, and the Five Emperor Coins on the table rotated like crazy. The originally stable True Fire flowed chaotically again, rushing along the meridians. A fishy sweetness surged in his throat, and he couldn't hold back a mouthful of blood, which sprayed directly on the ground in front of him.
He moved his fingertips, wanting to send a message to Bobby outside the door, but True Fire instantly flowed backwards, and the burning pain in his bone marrow made his vision darken. He could only clench his fists, swallow the muffled moan that reached his mouth, and forcefully suppress the scurrying True Fire.
It's the real voice of an angel... Sure enough, they fished out Dean... Apocalypse is about to start! Sam is a stubborn donkey, and even eight cows can't get him back from what he believes in...
Wait a minute... just the last bit... I'll go find you right away after I finish melting these acupuncture points...
Dean After walking along the road for almost an hour, I finally saw a phone booth standing on the side of the road.
He opened the door and walked in, put in a coin, and dialed the mobile phone number of Sam. There was only a cold electronic prompt in the receiver. "The number you dialed has been out of service."
"Fake!" Dean cursed, hung up the phone, threw in another coin, and dialed Bobby's number.
The phone only rang once and was picked up.
"Hello?"
Bobby's voice came from the receiver, full of fatigue and a hint of unnoticeable hoarseness.
"Bobby?" Dean's voice has not fully recovered, and his voice is still hoarse.
"Hello?" Bobby asked again as if he didn't hear clearly.
"It's me."
"Who is 'I'?"
"Dean."
Du--du--du--
The call was hung up immediately, and a busy signal came from the receiver.
Dean gritted his teeth and put in another coin, and dialed the number again.
As soon as the call was connected, Bobby's angry voice came over. "Who are you? This is not funny at all. If you call me again, I will kill you."
The phone was hung up again and the busy signal rang again.
Dean put down the receiver, leaned against the glass of the phone booth, and smiled helplessly. It was no wonder that Bobby reacted like this. Four months ago, he had just died in front of Bobby. If it were him, he would not believe a call from a dead person.
He raised his eyes and looked outside the phone booth. There was a dilapidated white car parked on the roadside. Dean's eyes lit up, he opened the door and walked over, pried open the door and got in. After a few clicks, he connected the line and started the ignition. He started the engine, turned the steering wheel, and drove in the direction of Bobby's home.
Sam This kid even changed his mobile phone number. What the hell is he doing? Bobby I guess these four months have not been easy...
The car was parked outside the yard of Bobby's house. Dean opened the car door and walked out. He immediately saw the empty whiskey bottles piled up like a hill in the corner of the yard, and his heart suddenly tightened.
The door was ajar, and Bobby's voice came from inside, very softly, as if talking to someone.
Dean walked over lightly, pressed against the door and listened.
"Boy, you haven't moved for almost five days. Are you okay? I left the food at the door. You should answer at least." Bobby's voice was full of worry. He paused and sighed again, "Dean That kid has been gone for four months. Sam That kid has disappeared. You are the only one left here who is half disabled and is in retreat... When will this day end?"
There was no response from the door, only a faint, warm breath came out from the crack in the door.
Dean's heart skipped a beat, and he raised his hand and knocked on the door.
The sound inside stopped instantly. After a few seconds, the door was opened. Bobby stood at the door. When he saw Dean outside the door, he froze in place. The whiskey glass in his hand almost fell to the ground. His eyes were full of vigilance and disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost.
Dean looked at him and carefully smiled, "Surprise."
"I... I don't..." Bobby's lips moved, but he couldn't finish his words.
"Yeah, I don't believe it either." Dean said, walking in the door, "But I'm right here."
As soon as he finished speaking, Bobby's hand behind his back suddenly took out a silver dagger, and without any hesitation, stabbed Dean in the chest.
Dean reacted very quickly and immediately grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Bobby suddenly broke away and punched Dean hard in the face.
"Bobby! It's me!" Dean covered his face and shouted.
"Only a ghost can believe it!" Bobby's eyes were red and he was about to rush forward again.
Dean quickly pushed a chair between the two of them and raised his hands to show that he had no ill intentions.
"Stop, stop! Wait!" Dean spoke very fast, "Your full name is Robert·Steven·Singer. After your wife Karen was possessed by a demon, you killed her with your own hands and became a hunter. You are the person closest to my father in this world. Bobby, you are really me."
Bobby's movement paused, the hand holding the dagger trembled slightly, and the vigilance in his eyes relaxed a bit. He slowly stepped forward and gently placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, as if to confirm whether he was real.
Just when Dean was relaxing, Bobby suddenly raised the knife again and stabbed Dean in the chest.
Dean's pupils shrank suddenly, and he quickly ducked sideways. He held Bobby's wrist with his backhand, pressed him against the wall, snatched the dagger away, and threw it on the ground.
"I'm not a shapeshifter!"
"Then you are the evil spirit of revenge!" Bobby gasped and roared.
Dean let go of him, picked up the silver dagger on the ground, rolled up his left sleeve, gritted his teeth, and used the sharp blade to make a severe cut on his arm. Blood immediately poured out and flowed down his arm.
"Okay," Dean looked up at him, "If I were those two things, could I use a silver dagger to do this?"
Bobby looked at the wound on his arm and then at his face. The shock in his eyes slowly faded away, replaced by an unbelievable trembling, and his voice became hoarse. "Dean?"
"I told you a long time ago." Dean smiled, but his eyes were a little hot.
Bobby couldn't bear it any longer, stepped forward and hugged him tightly. The arms of this always tough old hunter were trembling slightly. Dean also hugged him back hard. Hell finally felt relieved after suffering so much at this moment.
The two separated. Bobby looked at him with red eyes. He raised his hand and patted his shoulder. "It's good to see you, kid."
"Me too."
"But... how did you escape?" Bobby frowned, with confusion on his face, "Hell's contract has locked your soul, and no one can fish you out."
"I don't know." Dean shook his head, "I only remember that I became Hellhound's teething toy, and then my vision went dark, and when I woke up again, I was in a coffin six feet below."
As soon as he finished speaking, Bobby suddenly picked up a bowl of holy water from the table next to him and splashed it hard on Dean's face.
Dean froze on the spot, wiped the water from his face, and looked at him speechlessly. "I'm not a devil either, thank you."
"Sorry, it's best to be careful." Bobby breathed a sigh of relief, and finally showed a happy smile on his face.
Dean wiped his face and glanced at the door leading to the basement in the corner of the living room. There was a tray at the door with bread, water, and some wound medicine on it. His brows immediately frowned.
"Bobby, who is in the basement? Sam is in there?"
Bobby was stunned for a moment, then sighed with a worried look on his face, "It's that kid Haorui."
Dean's eyes suddenly widened, and his tone immediately became urgent. "Haorui? How is he? Wasn't he still fine when I died? How could he be in there? He has been in there for the past four months?"
"What a fart." Bobby cursed, his tone full of distress, "The night you left, in order to stop those demons, he finally had a hard fight with Lilith. All his meridians were destroyed, and True Qi almost died.. For the past four months, he has been locked up in the basement for seclusion, using his True Fire Art to repair his body. Now it is probably the most critical time. It has been almost five days, and there has been no movement at all. I don't even dare to knock on the door hard, for fear of disturbing him and going crazy."
Dean walked to the door of the basement, raised his hand, and wanted to knock on the door. His fingertips touched the door panel, and he stopped again. He slowly pulled it back, his eyes full of guilt and distress.
This kid has always been like this, doing whatever it takes to do whatever he can to show off...
He squatted down, faced the crack in the door, lowered his voice, and said softly, "Haorui, I'm back. You take good care of yourself, don't worry, I'll come back to see you when I get that kid Sam back."
Bai Haorui heard Dean's voice clearly, and his tense nerves instantly relaxed. An uncontrollable smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, and the golden fire that was beating crazily between his eyebrows slowly calmed down.
He wanted to respond, but True Fire was melting the core acupoints of the lumbar spine. If he was distracted even slightly, there was a risk of backflow. He could only grit his teeth, unable to make even a sound, and could only recite silently in his heart.
Great... I hope you're fine... Dean, you're back...
Dean stood up, walked back to the living room with Bobby, and sat on the sofa.
"This makes no sense at all, Dean." Bobby frowned and poured him a glass of whiskey, "Your chest was torn to pieces, your internal organs were shattered, and you were buried. Four months. Even if you can escape from Hell and return to your own body, you should be like the zombies in the "Thriller" MV now, instead of just sitting here."
"I understand, you don't need to stress it to me." Dean took a sip of whiskey and the burning sensation in his throat eased a lot.
"What do you remember?"
"Not much, except for the Hellhound part, I can't remember the rest." Dean shook his head, then frowned, "Sam's number can't be reached, he... he won't be in trouble, right?"
"He's still alive, at least that's what I know."
"Great... wait a minute, what does 'at least that's what you know' mean?" Dean's tone immediately darkened.
"I haven't contacted him in months."
"Are you kidding?" Dean sat up straight, "You just let him run around by himself? You don't know what state he was in at that time?"
"He was determined to leave." Bobby sighed, "After you were buried, he acted like crazy. He looked everywhere for a way to save you and tried all the black magic he could. Then for some reason, he suddenly packed up and left. He didn't return my calls or emails. I couldn't find him even if I tried to find him."
"Holy shit, Bobby, you should be watching him."
"I tried." Bobby's tone was full of helplessness, "The past few months have been difficult for him and me. We buried you with our own hands."
Dean's movements paused, his eyes softened, and he said no more.
"By the way," Bobby suddenly remembered something, "Do you know why we want to bury you?"
Dean raised his head with a puzzled look on his face. "Why?"
"I originally wanted to salt you and burn you according to the rules. This is a hunter's rule to prevent you from turning into an evil spirit and coming back. But Sam disagreed. He said that when he rescued you, you must have a complete body. That's all he said, and he refused to say a single word to me."
Dean's eyes instantly became suspicious. "What do you mean?"
"He became very silent, very silent, completely different from before." Bobby shook his head, "Then he left directly. I still don't know what he was doing."
"Damn it, Sam." Dean cursed and clenched his fists tightly.
"What's wrong?"
"He must have gotten me back." Dean raised his eyes and looked at Bobby, his tone extremely certain, "No matter what method he used, he definitely paid a heavy price."
"Why are you so sure?"
"You should take a look at that cemetery. It looks like a nuclear bomb exploded. All the trees in the circle were broken." Dean said, taking off his jacket and pulling up his left sleeve, revealing the bright red palm-shaped brand. "Also at the gas station, there was a force, something, that swept past me, shattering all the glass, and this one."
Bobby stood up and saw the brand, his face was full of shock. "What the hell is this?"
"It's like some demon pulled me out, or possessed me and brought it out."
"But why?" Bobby frowned, "No demon would do such a thing, fish out a soul that has signed a contract with Hell from Hell? This is not in line with their rules."
"In order to fulfill the deal." Dean's tone darkened, "Sam must have made a deal with them, using himself in exchange for me."
"You think Sam made a deal?"
Dean looked at him with extremely firm eyes. "If it were me, I would do the same thing."
Dean held the phone, pointed it at the receiver, and used the fake identities he and Sam often used to check the mobile phone number of Sam.
"Hello, hello, I registered a mobile phone number with you, but I lost my phone. Can you help me turn on the GPS? Yes, my name is Wedge Antilles, and my social security number is 2-4-7-4. Thank you."
After hanging up the phone, Dean walked to the laptop on the table and sat down.
"How did you know he would use this pseudonym?" Bobby stood behind him, looking confused.
Dean raised his eyebrows and said matter-of-factly, "Are you kidding? Is there anything else I don't know about this kid? This is his most commonly used alias. No one knows about it except me and Haorui."
As he spoke, his eyes swept across the empty wine bottles scattered on the table, and he looked up at Bobby with a mocking look on his face. "Hey, Bobby, what's wrong with you? Are you opening a pub? No one cares about you when your parents are not at home?"
"I told you, these past few months have been difficult." Bobby took a sip of whiskey, his tone full of exhaustion.
Dean looked at him, his eyes softened, nodded, and stopped teasing. He knew very well that Bobby looked at the third brother as his own son, and when he died, the pain in Bobby's heart was no less than that of Sam.
At this moment, the computer made a "ding" sound, and a positioning point popped up on the map on the screen: Illinois, City of Pontiac, 263 Adams Road.
"Sam is in Illinois Pontiac." Dean stared at the screen and said.
"It's very close to where you were buried." Bobby frowned, "It only takes more than half an hour to drive."
"It's near where I crawled out." Dean also frowned, "Isn't this coincidence too outrageous?"
He stood up, picked up the coat on the sofa, and before leaving, he walked to the door of the basement, paused, and lowered his voice again and said, "Haorui, take good care of yourself and wait until I come back."
After saying that, he and Bobby picked up their equipment, walked out of the door, and drove towards City of Pontiac.
The night is getting darker, the lights in the dilapidated motel are dim, and the corridor is filled with the smell of smoke and mold.
Dean and Bobby walked along the corridor to the door of Room 207. Dean raised his hand and knocked on the door.
The door opened, and a young and beautiful black-haired girl stood at the door, wearing only a vest and underwear, looking at them with confusion.
"Where are the things?" the girl asked.
Dean and Bobby looked at each other, both looking confused.
"What?" Dean asked.
(Sorry, sorry! I don't know why there was a large paragraph missing at the beginning when I posted it. Sorry!)