Chapter 32: Violent Mob

The remnants of the snowman melted into the silent stillness. After the candle extinguished, leaving a wisp of smoke, Chen Ling's face was ashen.

"I..." Chen Ling stammered, "I was talking to my brother..."

"Where is your brother?" Wu Youdong asked, looking at the empty chair beside them. "Aren't we the only two people in the room?"

Chen Ling looked at the opposite seat, which was now inexplicably empty. In a daze, the fading image of a young boy's smile blurred in his memory.

Beads of sweat trickled down Chen Ling's forehead, his back damp with perspiration. His bewildered and vacant eyes trembled ceaselessly, like someone roused from a nightmare.

"No, that's impossible..." Chen Ling suddenly stood up, the legs of the table scraping loudly against the floor.

"How can it be just the two of us?!" Chen Ling's voice abruptly rose. "My brother was just here... Earlier, he built a snowman by the door, and this morning he saw me off. He even mended my cotton coat!"

He forcefully stripped off his cotton coat, pointing to the perfectly mended spot. "Look! A'yan mended this! I don't know how to sew at all!"

"And all these wooden planks on the wall, he fixed them all!"

"There's also a doctor from Aurora City staying with us; he's met A'yan too. If you don't believe me, you can ask him!"

"I... I understand," Wu Youdong stammered, seemingly startled by Chen Ling. "I just... asked... because you were talking to yourself in the air... it was quite frightening."

"I wasn't talking to myself in the air!!" Chen Ling pointed at the emptiness opposite him, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Wu Youdong.

"My brother was sitting right there just now. You must have seen him when you came in, didn't you?"

"I... I really didn't see him." Wu Youdong looked distressed. He observed Chen Ling's strange behavior, hesitated for a long time, then tentatively asked, "Chen Ling... have you encountered a disaster recently?"

Chen Ling froze.

*So, you also merged with the disaster?**...I don't know. When I woke up, I was already standing there.**Did you also lose a memory?**But wasn't the convergence point of the Gray Realm in the back mountain? You should have been in surgery at the time... Why were you affected too?**I don't know... I just remember the doctor gave me anesthesia, and when I woke up, I...*This familiar dialogue echoed in Chen Ling's ears. He felt as if he had vaguely grasped something, and his pupils slightly contracted.

"No..." Chen Ling muttered to himself, "No... It's all wrong..."

"Chen Ling, are you okay?"

"...The back mountain?!" Chen Ling suddenly looked up in a certain direction, then dashed out of the house like a madman. He didn't even grab the cotton coat he had just taken off, charging headlong into the heavy snowfall in just a thin shirt.

No sooner had he vanished at the end of the street than Chu Muyun, wearing a woolen overcoat, arrived at the doorstep.

He glanced curiously in the direction Chen Ling had left, and as he was about to enter, he saw Wu Youdong standing alone in the living room, his brows immediately furrowing.

"Who are you?"

"I... I'm Chen Ling's friend."

Behind the silver-rimmed glasses, his eyes instantly narrowed, revealing a dangerous glint...

"What did you just say to him?"

"I didn't say anything... I just, I just saw him talking to himself, which was strange, so I asked who he was talking to... and then..."

Chu Muyun's expression changed drastically. He looked again in the direction Chen Ling had gone.

"Do you know... what you've done?" Chu Muyun's voice seemed to come from the underworld.

"I..." The moment Wu Youdong met Chu Muyun's gaze, his heart lurched. He had never seen such cold, mad eyes.

Wu Youdong was terrified. He stumbled backward half a step, tripped over a chair, and fell to the ground with a thud.

Chu Muyun took a deep breath, stepped into the house, and gently closed the front door with both hands.

The drafty doorway blocked out the light and snow from outside, plunging the living room into gloom. The figure in the woolen overcoat slowly advanced towards Wu Youdong.

He pushed up his glasses. Beneath his refined exterior, a chilling viciousness was laid bare, like a savage beast confined within a human body, shedding its disguise and baring its bloody, fearsome fangs.

"Do you have any idea how rare a research subject someone like him is—a fusion maintaining such a delicate balance between madness and sanity?"

"Do you have any idea how much effort I put into playing along with him, just to prevent him from realizing his abnormality?"

"Do you have any idea... what kind of monster you might have unleashed?"

Wu Youdong was paralyzed with terror. His legs were already injured, so he couldn't escape even if he wanted to, only able to drag his body backward inch by painful inch...

"I don't know, I really don't know," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper.

"I've been guarding this place for three days, keeping everyone away from Chen Ling and this house... and yet, you had to blunder right in."

"...Why???" Chu Muyun abruptly grabbed a corner of the chair and swung it, slamming it into Wu Youdong's head with a whistle!

*Bang—!!!*

A dull thud echoed through the room. Wu Youdong immediately fell unconscious.

A large gash split open on his forehead, and crimson blood poured out uncontrollably, quickly forming a pool.

Chu Muyun showed no signs of stopping. He stared intently at Wu Youdong, who lay like a corpse on the floor, and swung the chair again and again, striking him repeatedly.

"Why?!""Why?!""Why!?!?!"

Hot blood splattered all over the woolen overcoat, and a streak of crimson stained the lenses of the silver-rimmed glasses.

Chu Muyun had shed all pretense of refinement. He was like an executioner, a savage brute, unleashing his fury in the unnoticed darkness. As the chair repeatedly smashed into the lifeless body, Wu Youdong's breathing gradually ceased.

*Thud—*

With the final blow, the chair finally shattered.

Chu Muyun wiped away sweat, his chest heaving violently. His blood-stained fingertips pushed up his glasses, his deep blue eyes fixed on the bloody mess at his feet.

After an unknown amount of time, the madness in his eyes gradually faded, and a sharp scalpel appeared in his palm...

Meanwhile.

A figure stumbled through the snow, reaching the back mountain.

His thin shirt was soaked with sweat, heat and cold battling on his body. He clambered over the deserted yellow caution tape, navigating through snowdrifts marked with wooden stakes, as if searching for something.

This was the starting point of everything... and the place where the truth was buried.

The mass grave.