Chapter 81: Young People Don’t Value Their Bodies
Chapter 81: Young People Don’t Value Their Bodies
Fortunately, reading manifested as a complete ability, and Fang Cheng instinctively understood its usage upon acquisition.
This power should be termed text comprehension, enabling users to decipher mystically encoded religious writings.
Many texts—particularly religious ones—contain inherent obscurity. Even when recognizing individual characters, readers often fail to grasp their collective meaning.
To put it plainly: every character makes sense alone, but becomes incomprehensible when combined.
He hadn’t anticipated gaining such culture-related capability—apparently his scholarly nature shone through.
The sole disappointment lay in the shadow leaving no corpse for plundering, though logically a mere shadow wouldn’t leave physical remains anyway.
In the living room’s corner, Sato Hayato gaped as Fang Cheng plunged his hand into a corpse’s chest with contemplative intensity, sudden terror flashing in his widened eyes.
Tonight’s horrors had pushed him toward madness—kidnapped without reason to this accursed place.
When Fang Cheng materialized like divine intervention, Sato’s shock mingled with desperate relief… until witnessing severed limbs regenerating. This teasing classmate clearly wasn’t normal—perhaps not even human.
Fang Cheng finally seemed to register the corner’s occupant.
Approaching, he loomed over Sato backlit by harsh lights, his shadowed features appearing unnervingly sinister.
“Mmmph! Mmmph!”
The bound boy emitted muffled pleas, socks crammed in his mouth, limbs trussed like livestock.
Fang Cheng crouched, coalescing blood into a gleaming blade.
“Mmmph! MMMPH!”
Sato convulsed in panic, tears leaking from bulging eyes. His thighs clenched involuntarily, bladder threatening release.
Instead of cutting bonds, Fang Cheng yanked out the sodden socks. “Why here, Sato? Truth now—our friendship’s fragile.”
The crimson blade’s proximity made Sato’s teeth chatter. “F-Fang Ch-ch-cheng! J-just shopping…”
Through stuttered explanations emerged a tragic farce: a simple soy sauce errand, snacks in hand, song on lips—abruptly interrupted by cultist kidnappers.
Two other civilians shared Sato’s fate, dragged to this haunted den. Their screaming dismemberment before his eyes nearly shattered his sanity.
Sparred from dissection, Sato watched cultists summon a lingering spirit using blood-drawn sigils. Their chant—”Zhazhasī zhazhasī, Nastanalu zhazhasī”—still echoed when Fang Cheng materialized.
For terrible moments, Sato believed his classmate had been conjured from hell.
“Unfortunate indeed.”
Fang Cheng sliced the ropes with blood-forged steel.
Gasping freedom, Sato scrambled toward the bathroom—
*THWACK!*
Fang Cheng’s hand clamped his shoulder. “Remember—my secret stays buried.”
Sato shuddered, turning with the grimace of condemned man.
“Why does it smell like urine?”
Fang Cheng sniffed the air and met Sato Hayato’s sorrowful gaze.
He released his grip in surprise. “Ah… this…”
Thankfully, the dark-colored pants hid any visible wetness.
Sato Hayato stumbled to the bathroom with legs clamped together, followed by the sound of rushing water.
Hearing the torrential flow, Fang Cheng sighed. Young people never cared about their health – holding urine could damage the bladder!
Kanzaki Rin entered from outside and approached the cultist she’d stunned earlier.
The unconscious man still breathed.
Pulling handcuffs from her bag, Kanzaki restrained him while examining the black-and-white uniform. She remembered this design from Countermeasures Department files – the garb of Blissful Faith, a dangerous cult active in Area 11.
Sato Hayato emerged from the bathroom red-faced, bowing stiffly. “Thank you for saving me, Classmate Fang Cheng, Classmate Kanzaki Rin.”
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He recognized the school’s famous beauty though he dared not ask why she partnered with Fang Cheng, nor mention his lingering thoughts about Asaka Akihime.
Kanzaki Rin sized up the stammering boy. His uniform confirmed him as Kashima High student.
“You should be grateful,” she stated coldly. “Minutes later, your soul would’ve fed their evil god.”
Sato Hayato paled at the implied fate.
Fang Cheng nudged the surviving cultist with his foot. “Explain this?”
Only Kanzaki Rin possessed the cult expertise surpassing her intern status.
“The Blissful Faith cult,” she began, “conducts soul sacrifices for their deity’s gifts…”
The name triggered Fang Cheng’s memory – Asaka Akihime’s landlady followed this cult. Could their evil extend to the girl’s suicide?
Noticing his grim expression, Kanzaki Rin added, “We got lucky with timing.” She indicated the shriveled corpse. “That Protector exhausted his supernatural powers summoning the evil god’s projection during ritual.”
Fang Cheng eyed the empty-handed corpse. No wonder he’d found nothing – the old man had donated every ounce of power to his god.
He turned to the unconscious cultist. “And this one?”
Kanzaki Rin shrugged. “Take whatever you find useful.” These fanatics held no value – the Department executed them by the dozen yearly.
The knife flashed. Sato Hayato turned chalk-white as Fang Cheng ended the cultist.
From the corpse came a Life Fragment and translation ability – fluency in English and French since he already knew Chinese. Ridiculous. Maybe killing more cultists would yield money-making skills?
[Life Fragments (3/3) merging…]
[Life +1]
Five lives now. Finally more than his original stock after crossing worlds. If he could accumulate lives, financial freedom couldn’t be far behind.
His attention shifted to the translucent girl-spirit fading in the living room. The lingering spirit stared desperately at Sato Hayato, whispering words only he heard:
“Help me!”
When Fang Cheng approached with bloody knife, the panicked boy shouted: “Wait!”