Rage and Lingering Dread
Qin Ming's fragmented confession, as if from the depths of hell, was like a red-hot dagger, stabbing deep into the Monkey's ears, stirring his brain, and ultimately branding itself into the deepest part of his soul.
"A real specimen..."
A modern-day Lin Daiyu...
"It conforms to aesthetic standards..."
"To prepare it as a specimen..."
"Permanent Collection..."
These words, put together, create a picture far more absurd, more blasphemous, and more terrifying than any horror film. In that instant, the Monkey's brain seemed to be forcibly crammed with an excessive amount of unprocessable information, plunging into a blank, high-speed buzzing state.
He imagined his younger sister Xiaoya's pale yet still lively face;
Imagine her after being ravaged by high doses of chemotherapy drugs, her hair falling out, her constant vomiting, and her emaciated appearance;
Imagine the fear and helplessness she might have endured in the final moments of her life;
Ultimately, he imagined her being immersed in a cold formalin solution, or treated and fixed in some more "refined" way, like a lifeless doll, displayed in the dark collection room of a perverted tycoon, becoming an "exhibit" to satisfy his twisted fetishes...
"Well..."
A suppressed sob, seemingly coming from the deepest part of the Monkey's chest, escaped from its throat.
The blankness that had filled his mind receded rapidly like a tide, replaced by an indescribable, overwhelming rage, like the violent tectonic activity of the earth's crust before a volcanic eruption!
This anger was no longer the indignation against medical injustice or the impunity of bad people, but a primal, instinctive, blood-related, and protective killing intent—a completely violent and utterly violent rage!
"Ah--!!!!!"
The Monkey suddenly let out a roar that was not human, a sound that tore through its vocal cords and was filled with the metallic stench of blood!
His eyes, which had been somewhat unfocused due to drunkenness and the shock, now condensed into two almost tangible crimson flames, fixed firmly on Qin Ming, who was curled up in a ball on the hospital bed in extreme fear!
Without any hesitation, or even a moment's thought.
Like a mad bull that has been completely enraged, the Monkey pounced forward with a ferocious momentum that could destroy everything!
He straddled Qin Ming's bound body, ignoring the wounds and bandages covering his body, and swung his fists with all his might, smashing them wildly down on Qin Ming's head, face, chest, and any other part of his body he could reach!
"Beast! Beast!! Beast!!!"
"Fuck your mother! You bastard!!"
"How dare you?! How dare you treat my sister like this?!"
"I'll kill you! I'll kill you!!!"
The fists rained down like a dense storm, each blow accompanied by the dull thud of bone colliding with flesh. The Monkey's reason was completely consumed by the flames of rage; only one thought occupied his mind—destruction! Destroy this demon in human skin before him! Repay him a thousandfold for the terror he had inflicted on his sister, and for the terror he had attempted to inflict!
At first, Qin Ming was able to let out shrill screams and pleas like a pig being slaughtered, and struggled desperately under the restraints.
"Ah! Stop hitting me! Spare me!!"
"I told you! I already told you!!"
"Help! Help..."
But his voice was quickly interrupted by a heavier punch, turning into indistinct sobs and muffled groans of pain. Blood splattered from his mouth and nose, onto the Monkey's face, contorted in agony from the force of the blows, and onto the pristine white sheets and walls, leaving gruesome stains.
The Monkey seemed oblivious to fatigue and the excruciating pain emanating from its finger bones, mechanically repeating its punches. It poured all the fear, helplessness, anger, and deep-seated dread of the past few days onto the body it saw as the embodiment of evil.
Lin Feng stood quietly to the side throughout, like a detached observer. He neither stopped nor tried to persuade him. He even slightly adjusted his posture so that he could see more clearly Qin Ming's contorted expression of pain and the Monkey's completely out-of-control rage. His eyes were calm and unwavering, as if this bloody lynching had nothing to do with him, or perhaps, it was a scene he had anticipated, or even welcomed.
It's unclear how much time passed, perhaps only a few minutes, but for both the perpetrator and the victim, it felt like centuries.
The Monkey's movements gradually slowed down.
His punches became weaker and weaker, and the frequency of his punches decreased.
Finally, as if all his strength had been drained, his raised fist froze in mid-air before falling limply to the ground. He gasped for breath, sweat mingling with splattered blood as it streamed down his forehead. He swayed weakly, as if just pulled from the water, and rolled off Qin Ming, staggering back a few steps before leaning against the cold wall.
On the hospital bed, Qin Ming was completely lifeless, slumped there like a lump of mud, with only the slight rise and fall of his chest proving that he was still alive. His face was swollen beyond recognition, covered in blood and filth, looking even more miserable than before.
Silence enveloped the ward once again.
Only the Monkey's heavy, labored breathing, like a broken bellows, echoed in the air.
He looked down at his hands, which were covered in blood and trembling violently. His knuckles were a bloody mess, and he felt a piercing pain, but he seemed not to feel it.
Then, slowly, very slowly, he slid down the wall and sat down on the floor.
He didn't look at Qin Ming again, but buried his face deeply in those blood-stained hands.
At first, it was just a slight shrugging of the shoulders.
But soon, suppressed, intermittent sobs leaked out from between his fingers.
The sobbing grew louder and louder, eventually turning into an uncontrollable wail, like that of a wounded wild animal.
This crying contained more than just anger.
More than anything, I feel lingering fear.
A lingering fear, a deep-seated, bone-chilling dread, a sense of having survived a catastrophe. Just a few days, or even a few hours, later, and he might have lost his sister forever, in the most humiliating and terrifying way he could never have imagined.
And regret.
He hated his own incompetence, his own gullibility, and his failure to protect his sister, almost plunging her into an abyss of no return.
Overwhelmed by a massive surge of emotion, he was completely engulfed. He curled up in a corner, crying his heart out, his whole body trembling as if he were crying out his very insides.
Lin Feng walked to his side, said nothing, but reached out and forcefully helped him up from the ground.
The Monkey had almost no strength left, its entire weight leaning on Lin Feng, still immersed in immense grief and lingering fear, its cries never ceasing.
Lin Feng half-supported, half-carried him, silently opened the door to the ward, and led him away from this cage filled with bloodshed, despair, and madness, placing him on a cold bench in the corridor.
The stark white light shone on the Monkey's face, which was stained with blood and tears.
He still covered his face with his hands, his sobs echoing softly in the empty corridor—a helpless lamentation after his soul had been utterly torn apart.