Chapter Sixty-Seven: Confrontation

Sheng Yao wore a loose jacket, walking along the sidewalk dimly lit by streetlights. Thanks to frequent contact in recent times, he knew exactly where Tong Bin lived. Only by taking the initiative could he avoid passively waiting for Tong Bin to come knocking at the home he shared with Bai Xiao.

They had already met face-to-face; avoidance was no longer possible. Only when one of them finally fell would this matter come to an end. On one hand, the police could never get involved—neither would allow the secrets of the Monster Clinic to be exposed. Doctors could not be arbiters either, for they cared nothing for the conflicts among their patients.

On the other hand, Sheng Yao could not let Tong Bin continue his reckless rampage, and Tong Bin was powerless to rein in his own madness.

Sheng Yao stopped, lifting his eyes to the residential building where Tong Bin lived.

He heard a sound and immediately climbed the perimeter wall, leaping onto a tree within the compound.

Thick branches masked his figure as dark clouds masked the moon, leaving no trace exposed. Through the gaps in the leaves, Sheng Yao watched in the direction of the sound.

He saw Tong Bin.

Tong Bin looked uneasy, hurrying along. There was a trace of hesitation in his eyes, but far more obsession.

Sheng Yao sighed inwardly, pressing his hand to his waist, feeling the hatchet wedged in his tool belt.

It was a tool he had bought when friends took him camping after Bai Xiao’s death. Now, it was the only weapon he could find—but it should suffice. The monster that Tong Bin had become was not invincible. As long as he...

At that thought, Sheng Yao’s heart stirred. He looked ahead at Tong Bin, who was quickening his pace.

Tong Bin passed under a streetlamp. The light shone straight upon him, casting a long shadow at his feet.

That shadow stretched behind him like a cape fluttering in the wind.

Sheng Yao frowned, his gaze sweeping over the security camera mounted with the streetlamp.

He unzipped his jacket, hand resting on the hatchet’s grip, yet did not draw the weapon.

He stared at Tong Bin’s retreating back, his fingers tightening and loosening, tightening again, before finally releasing his grip. He grabbed a branch and swiftly vaulted back over the wall, running along it to the compound’s gate.

Hiding in a corner, Sheng Yao saw Tong Bin exit the residential area.

Tong Bin stood at the intersection for a few seconds, took out his phone, tapped away for a moment, then stared ahead blankly, looking a little deflated.

A beam from the streetlamp shone on him. In the light, countless motes of dust danced in the air. After several seconds, he pocketed his phone, looked up, and strode off.

A thread of unease rose in Sheng Yao’s heart as he glanced in the direction Tong Bin was heading, forming a suspicion.

It seemed Tong Bin’s plan was not the same as his own. Tong Bin was not intent on dealing with him first—he was going after Kong Yajie!

For a moment, Sheng Yao wondered if he’d been discovered, if his movements had given him away, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

Tong Bin truly had gone mad.

Sheng Yao’s feelings grew complicated.

In that instant, he remembered holding Bai Xiao in the Longevity Garden, remembered wandering in a daze from the cemetery and entering the Monster Clinic.

That period, which he should have recalled only dimly, suddenly became vivid.

In his field of vision, Tong Bin’s figure vanished, and even the sounds of his footsteps, his breathing, and his heartbeat faded away.

The night wind snapped Sheng Yao’s mind back to the present.

At some point, the wind had grown fierce, making the surrounding trees rustle. The clouds above, however, remained unmoved—thick rain clouds still shrouded the moon.

It felt as if Sheng Yao had only been distracted for a moment, yet as if centuries had passed, so long that he had forgotten what he’d just been thinking.

When Sheng Yao returned to himself, anxiety gripped his heart.

His heartbeat quickened, his mind sluggishly scanning his surroundings.

Tong Bin was gone!

No, it was all right... he knew Tong Bin had gone after Kong Yajie.

Sheng Yao steadied his breathing, quickly running toward the apartment where Kong Yajie lived.

As he ran, his thoughts churned—not of Bai Xiao this time, but of the route to Kong Yajie’s home and the surrounding environment.

He needed to find a spot with neither people nor surveillance. Such deserted complexes were rare along the way; perhaps, in the end, he would have to act at the same place where he’d fought the monster before.

Sheng Yao’s brow furrowed deeper as he realized the limitations of his impulsive, unplanned action.

What about Tong Bin? Did Tong Bin still retain the remnants of calm he’d shown when he first transformed into a monster? Was he preparing to throw caution to the wind, or did he have another plan?

Once more, Sheng Yao scaled a wall and climbed into a tree, surveying the area. He didn’t spot Tong Bin nearby, but from several hundred meters away, he heard Tong Bin speaking with the compound’s security guard.

It was the middle of the night; any responsible guard would be suspicious of a stranger trying to enter.

Sheng Yao glanced toward the main gate, a trace of doubt crossing his mind, then turned his gaze to Kong Yajie’s building.

On the eighth floor, a window gaped open, its curtain billowing in the night wind. The adjacent window was lit, though no figures were visible, but voices carried faintly through the concrete wall, mingling with the distant conversation between Tong Bin and the guard.

"...Thank you for your concern. Sigh..."

"...The police just left; they still haven’t found the person..."

"...Are you a friend of theirs too?"

"Yes, please let me in. I just want to say a few words to her. I need to do it in person..."

Four voices—but there was someone else, one more person!

Sheng Yao’s pupils contracted.

In the darkness and shifting shadows, his eyes glinted, and an intricate network of blood vessels appeared on his ears, snaking into the ear canals as if something dreadful was hidden within.

Sheng Yao was unfazed. He was growing accustomed to his own abnormal body.

Shock filled him—something was off, but he couldn’t quite grasp the thought lurking in his subconscious.

What was it... what exactly...

Tong Bin appeared at the end of the road, hurrying to the building’s entrance.

Sheng Yao stared vacantly at Tong Bin’s back.

A lamp over the entrance illuminated Tong Bin’s figure. The light pooled at his feet, and his shadow, restless, swayed with his unease, as if buffeted by the wind.

The doorbell rang out, shattering the stillness of the night.

Soon after, the bell fell silent. A voice came through the intercom—it was Gao Yan.

"Hello?" Gao Yan’s tone was puzzled.

Tong Bin faltered before stammering, "Gao—Gao Yan. It’s Tong Bin. I’m here to see Kong Yajie. Sorry, it’s so late... there’s something I need to tell her."

He grew increasingly anxious as he spoke, to the point that his body began to bounce lightly with agitation.

Sheng Yao saw the fine dust settling on Tong Bin’s face, and the odd trembling of the shadow at his feet.

"Uh? Oh, all right, I’ll let you in. Strange, why are you all coming at this hour... It’s Tong Bin. He’s here for Ya—" Gao Yan muttered, perhaps to herself, perhaps to someone else, and after opening the door, hung up.

Tong Bin seemed not to hear, pulling the door open and rushing inside.

Sheng Yao, wasting no time, leapt from the tree and slipped through the door like a wisp of wind.

There was no one at the elevator. It had stopped on the eighth floor.

Urgency seized Sheng Yao as he dashed into the stairwell. As he stepped inside, it felt as if he had returned to the night of the class reunion, to that hotel stairwell.

The sound-activated lights glowed a ghastly white, flicking on one by one; the emergency indicators cast an oily green sheen along the baseboards; huge gray numbers on the walls pressed in oppressively...

Footsteps spiraled upward, as if chasing prey, or fleeing the hunter’s gun, or like someone helplessly dragged by a speeding car...

Sheng Yao remembered what had happened that night in the stairwell.

A powerful sense of alienation made his thoughts blur, flashes of different scenes strobing through his mind.

There was Bai Xiao, with those strange blue-black marks on her skin, her corpse rotting against her own tombstone... There was the brightly lit hall at the reunion, the murky stairwell, echoing voices...

All these images and sounds were finally replaced by the doctor’s blue eyes, which drew everything into silence.

Sheng Yao burst from the stairwell in pursuit of Tong Bin, hearing only Tong Bin’s slightly labored breath and Kong Yajie’s greeting:

"Tong Bin, come in quickly."

"Yaya, I—"

"Come in first. Zheng Yichao is here too..."

At the doorway, Sheng Yao saw Tong Bin standing.

It was reminiscent of that night in the stairwell—he hid aside, watching as Kong Yajie, Gao Yan, Tong Bin, and Zheng Yichao all occupied the same space...

For a moment, everything slowed in Sheng Yao’s eyes.

Behind Tong Bin, a grotesque sphere appeared—an eyeball, erupting with numerous tentacles that cast their own shadows across the floor and over Tong Bin. The tentacles split open like wild mushrooms bursting with spores, shoving Tong Bin into the apartment.

Inside, there were only two heavy thuds, no screams or shouts.

Sheng Yao saw the eyeball turn slightly at the doorway, its pupil fixing on him.

He did not hesitate for an instant. Drawing the hatchet from his belt, he lunged into the room.

On the floor by the door lay Kong Yajie and Tong Bin, limp as ragdolls. Their eyes were open but vacant, their shallow breathing the only sign of life. Serpentine monsters slithered from beneath them, converging in the living room.

In the living room stood Zheng Yichao, tall in a long coat. Before him, Gao Yan was hoisted high by strange tentacles. Like Kong Yajie and Tong Bin, Gao Yan’s body was limp, his eyes lifeless and mindless. The tentacle gripping him wound around his brain, its sucker pressed to his forehead, while along its length, open holes spewed fine powder.

Whatever the powder was, Sheng Yao instinctively held his breath, locking eyes with Zheng Yichao.

Zheng Yichao’s eyes had lost all humanity—his sockets were packed with countless compound eyes, horrifying and bizarre.

Those myriad eyes stared unblinkingly at Sheng Yao. From his open mouth spilled a yellow artificial flower and an enormous guestbook. More tentacles snaked from beneath his coat and from under Kong Yajie and Tong Bin, linking to his body. These were no longer monstrous appendages but human hands—unnaturally long, each with three or four segments, five or six joints. They clutched the artificial flower and the guestbook, their movements coordinated with the smug, monstrous grin on Zheng Yichao’s face.

"Sheng... Yao..." Zheng Yichao recited the signature from the paper in a chilling, sibilant voice. "You went to great lengths, changed your name, borrowed Tong Bin’s identity... but you’re exposed now, aren’t you..."

Zheng Yichao’s eye sockets split open, the compound eyes spreading like ink across his face.

"You found that clinic too, didn’t you! You started suspecting me then, didn’t you! Ha! You’ve become a monster too—you’re a monster as well!!" Zheng Yichao roared. His clothes burst apart, revealing the monstrous form Sheng Yao had seen before, now even more terrifying—his body covered in eyes, ears, mouths of all kinds. His voices issued simultaneously from each mouth, merging into a grotesque harmony, "I won’t let you succeed! Die, Lin Jun!"

With that bellow, a host of arms lashed out toward Sheng Yao like whips.

As Zheng Yichao moved, Sheng Yao saw reflected in his own eyes those grasping claws, and beyond Zheng Yichao’s horrific body, the balcony and a flash of light outside.

Thunder rumbled.

From the rain-laden clouds, thunder exploded and lightning slashed the sky, and rain poured down in torrents!

...

On a giant projection television, lightning and rain fell together, thunder booming deafeningly in the darkness.

In the doctor’s blue eyes was a glow akin to that in Sheng Yao’s, but the lightning’s reflection and Zheng Yichao’s monstrous form were even more vivid and precise in the doctor’s gaze.

When the light faded, the doctor’s eyes grew deeper.

A long sigh drowned the sound of the rain.

At the same time, ten fingernails—some smiling, some angry—produced a cacophony, echoing the sigh and carrying further than the thunder, as if piercing an endless night.

On the coffee table, the thick medical record flipped its own pages, stopping at the final blank sheet.

The doctor withdrew his gaze from the television, raising his hand slightly. The medical record appeared in his palm, and a pen materialized in his other hand. He scribbled a hurried note, closed the record, and looked again at the screen, his eyes now alight with keen interest. The television had become an old-fashioned cathode-ray tube set, the image focusing on Sheng Yao’s resolute face.

In the brightly lit clinic lobby, Bai Xiao stood rigidly, her hands clasped together. It was as if she heard that sigh, or, stunned by the thunder, shuddered slightly.

She raised her eyes, staring into the heavy rain beyond the glass door. In their depths was no light, only veins of blue spreading from her pupils like blood, filling the whites and bleeding beyond the sockets, darkening into an unsettling black.

As if a porcelain vessel had cracked, as if white walls had shed their paint, the skin of Bai Xiao’s face peeled away, revealing the fetid, decaying flesh beneath.

She clenched her fingers harder, tearing flesh from them without shedding blood.

Her expression twisted, growing ever more monstrous.