Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Haunting Shadows Linger

"I... I like..." Cui Yue mustered all his courage, the words almost tumbling from his lips.

At that very moment, Yang Liu's expression changed dramatically. Her pretty face turned pale as snow, her eyes widened in terror, and she stared at something behind Cui Yue as if she'd seen an unspeakable horror. She pointed past him, shrieking in a voice warped with fear.

"Ah! There’s, there’s—"

Before she could finish, her eyes rolled back, her legs gave way, and she collapsed in a faint, her body crumpling limply to the ground.

Cui Yue had finally broken through the shackles in his heart, blood surging with adrenaline as he shouted out his feelings. Who could have thought that, before he’d even finished, the girl would faint dead away? Was it possible she'd been so overwhelmed with joy at his confession that her heart raced, her blood rushed to her head, and she simply couldn't contain herself?

Cui Yue stood frozen, dumbfounded, unable to react. But then, something felt off. She had been pointing behind him, and the look of terror on her face had been real. Behind him... Behind...

Suddenly, a foul, bloody stench filled his nostrils. Alarm shot through him as he heard the grisly sounds of chewing and swallowing behind his back.

Crunch. Crunch.

A cold premonition crept up his spine, as if some monstrous, unknown entity had fixed its gaze on him. Heart pounding, Cui Yue turned around slowly, bracing himself for the worst—but even so, what he saw sent a shudder through him. There, standing right behind, was a headless corpse. Its neck was nothing but a gaping, bloody hole, the missing head nowhere to be seen.

He could only gasp in horror, every hair on his body standing on end. The crunching sound came again. Cui Yue’s eyes followed the noise downwards, and only then did he notice: a broken, mutilated head was hanging upside down from the corpse’s belly, its mouth endlessly chewing, dead gray eyes glaring at him with a ferocious malice.

"You—you’re—!"

A scene from the video arcade flashed through Cui Yue’s mind—the corpse that had vanished without a trace no matter how thoroughly they’d searched. Who would have thought it would appear here? Or perhaps, more chilling still, this creature—neither quite human nor ghost—had sought him out deliberately.

Never in his wildest dreams had Cui Yue imagined that the corpse would come to life and stand before him, incomplete and grotesque.

A corpse poisoned with corpse-venom stands no chance of passing on. A living soul will have its spirit devoured, and the body will never remain whole. When intelligence fails to satisfy the hunger, it becomes a blood corpse, a being even more dreadful than a walking corpse.

This was a blood corpse.

Cui Yue understood none of this; he only thought this creature had become the servant of a skin-walker ghost after death and now came for vengeance.

What now? With Glasses nowhere in sight, he was alone, with no hope of matching such a horror.

Cui Yue stole a glance at Yang Liu lying beside him and gave a bitter smile. He barely had time to save himself, yet now he had to protect this burden. No matter what, he’d have to risk his life to keep her safe.

There was no time for further thought—the blood corpse let out a hideous shriek and lunged at him.

From a distance, it looked like a headless corpse running wildly, arms flailing, with the mangled head swinging from its belly, those dead gray eyes seeming about to shake loose.

Cui Yue’s scalp tingled, but his hands moved instinctively. In a flash, he gripped his little peachwood sword and strode forward to meet the attack.

"Take this!"

Thud!

Seeing an opening, Cui Yue thrust the sword straight at the blood corpse’s chest. The peachwood blade glimmered faintly gold, but plunging into the chest was like stabbing into a mass of soft cotton candy—no resistance at all. It was nothing like the iron-hard flesh of a skin-walker ghost. The sword sank deep, but the tip couldn’t pierce through, and the faint golden glow grew even weaker, nearly flickering out.

From between its legs came an enraged howl, and both of the blood corpse’s hands, with a cyclone of force, swiped at him. Cui Yue dared not linger—he yanked out the sword and leapt backward with all his might.

Too close! One more second and he’d have been flattened!

He barely had time to retreat before the blood corpse lunged again, its huge hands twisted and bruised, veins bulging hideously. Cui Yue knew he could not underestimate this opponent. If he fell into its grasp, he’d be torn apart without mercy.

Yang Liu still lay unconscious on the floor. Cui Yue could only try to draw the blood corpse away from her, leading it to the other side.

The blood corpse shrugged its shoulders, the gaping wound on its neck squirming as shredded flesh and splinters of bone flew out—it nearly made Cui Yue retch.

Fine, fight me—but do you have to be so disgusting?

Just as he was distracted, the blood corpse’s giant hand came swinging at his face. He barely managed to raise the sword and block.

Bang!

A muffled thud. Terror gripped Cui Yue’s mind as a surge of brute force nearly tore the peachwood sword from his grasp, forcing him three steps back.

He was utterly helpless against the blood corpse. The peachwood sword did nothing, and at this rate, he’d be finished long before the monster tired. If only he had a spell to summon Glasses, that bizarre companion—he’d definitely know how to handle this thing.

Cui Yue retreated further, racking his brain for a solution.

Suddenly, the blood corpse shifted its attention. This time, its target was the prone Yang Liu. It lifted one massive foot and stomped down toward her waist.

No way!

Startled, Cui Yue sprang forward, lashing out with a kick that struck the blood corpse square in the chest. Momentum carried him into the monster, crashing hard into its body.

The blood corpse staggered, nearly falling backward, the upside-down head almost slipping out from between its legs.

Cui Yue seized the advantage. Without pausing, he reversed his grip on the peachwood sword and stabbed into the bloody hole at the shoulder, twisting the blade with all his might. Flesh and blood flew, the stench thickened, and purplish-black fluid splattered over him.

This was the only exposed part of the blood corpse. Writhing in pain, its face twisted even more, and it bellowed incoherently.

Suddenly, both its hands shot out and clamped down on Cui Yue’s wrists, joints cracking as the monster’s grip rendered him immobile.

This is bad, he thought. The blood corpse’s strength was overwhelming—he couldn’t break free. His hands turned blue, and he could barely hold onto the sword.

At that instant, a guttural shriek erupted from beneath the blood corpse. Its purple face twisted into a hideous grin, mouth gaping wide to reveal rows of sharp fangs.

Cui Yue’s heart stopped as he remembered—the blood corpse’s head was hanging from its belly. How could he forget such a detail?

He looked down in horror. The head’s bloody maw was opening, razor teeth closing in right between his legs!

Damn it all! This is the end!

Cui Yue nearly fainted from terror, feeling a chill between his thighs and cramps seizing his belly.