He slowly opened his eyes, "It hurts," he murmured, gently adjusting his throbbing head.
A crisp sound of iron chains reached his ears, accompanied by a faint smell of blood. He felt heavy, as if something was pressing on him. He also felt a burning sensation below his neck that traveled down to his knees, as if his toes were intimately touching something hard, and as if something was pulling him.
Raising his head, he gazed drowsily at his surroundings. Above him was a shining moon, with a few blurry clouds nearby. In front of him stood several figures shrouded in the darkness, wearing black cloaks with their backs turned to him. On either side, two people held his arms, their wrists bound tightly together by thin iron chains. He desperately wanted to see their faces, but they were hidden beneath dark hoods.
Moonlight poured like water onto the earth, which was adorned with a white shroud. The moonlight brushed over low hills, tall trees, the chirping of cicadas, the croaking of frogs, and the distant wind carrying fragmented sounds into his ears. They were walking in a serene wilderness.
"Am I dead? Is this the messenger of death taking me away?" he wondered aloud.
Another voice echoed in his mind, "No, you are not dead. You are about to journey burdened by guilt."
His thoughts played out like an old projector, constantly flashing back scenes from the past.
At that time, he had just finished his evening classes and returned to the dormitory. Suddenly, his mind buzzed as if someone was whispering to him. He inexplicably felt a wave of nausea.
Without further thought, exhausted from a busy day, he casually took off his shoes and climbed into bed.
Unaware of how long he slept, he woke up to find his tardy roommates snoring in their respective beds. A bitter feeling inexplicably welled up in his heart, more uncomfortable than swallowing a bitter medicine.
In a dazed state of mind, he felt that he was responding to the call of something mysterious, "Come, come to me."
He put on slippers and walked straight to the balcony. Taking the freshly dried shoelace from the railings, he silently left the dormitory like a ghost.
He walked through the corridor, past the flag-raising platform, and crossed the rubber track. Under the moonlight, his silhouette moved like an agile monkey, effortlessly leaping over the school's high walls. These walls were three to four meters tall, an impossible feat for him on an ordinary day. But tonight, it was as if an enigmatic force was compelling him.
Afterwards, he stuck to the wall and walked along a path covered in overgrown weeds until he reached a crooked-neck tree poking out from a low wall.
This was an abandoned barn, and even from a distance, one could smell the rotten odor of fermenting millet in the air. However, he paid no attention to it. With a smile on his face, a tremendous joy and a strong impulse surged in his heart, an impulse that would normally frighten him.
But in this semi-dream state, he felt it as a release. He brought two stones from nearby and stacked them together. Standing on the stones, he tied the two ends of his shoelace into a knot, then gently tossed it, allowing the lace to hang on a sturdy branch. He held the ends of the shoelace and skillfully tied a beautiful knot, which would form a loop if something were to hang on it.
He gently pulled on the shoelace, feeling its resilience. Satisfied, he put it around his neck, kicked away the soil beneath his feet, and in a gradually suffocating pain, he distinctly felt his body temperature dropping, his consciousness escaping from his body.
Coming back to his senses from his memories, he closed his eyes again, listening to the rhythmic clinking of iron chains, and fell into a deep sleep.
When he woke up again, all those peculiar pains had vanished. He felt like he had just had a dream. But the growling in his stomach reminded him otherwise, that he was hungry.
Poor he gazed around, stretching his neck and widening his eyes, rubbing his eyes vigorously. After confirming it wasn't his imagination, the word "prison" boldly entered his mind.
"Oh my god, what has happened?"
He looked in disbelief at everything in front of him—a vacant room with nothing except a spotless floor and four pristine white walls.
Yes, absolutely nothing, not even windows or a door to allow light and air in.
From the ceiling hung a flickering old energy-saving lamp, emitting intermittent light.
The eerie atmosphere made his blood run cold again, his stomach spasmed, and his tongue tied itself in knots. A terrible thought arose in his mind: "Am I being kidnapped?"
So, who was the person kidnapping him? The more he thought, the more frightened he became.
He remembered hearing stories about horrifying actions by human traffickers, how they would silently drug and abduct people, especially those naive and unknowing minors.
His self-inflicted demise had been a mere illusion, a dream he had conjured while in a dazed state. He hadn't returned to the dormitory at all. They were waiting for him in some hidden corner, ready to pounce from behind, covering his nose and mouth with a cloth soaked in an anesthetic gas, just like in the movies.
But what do they want from me? I'm just a poor student. Soon, he realized something even more terrifying—they would harvest his organs and drain his blood.
"Oh heavens, what should I do? What on earth should I do? This is truly terrifying."
With a trembling voice, he stood restlessly, desperately pounding his brow, feeling as if his brain had turned into metal, held captive by an iron hoop around its edges. He couldn't keep himself awake, and tears streamed down his emaciated cheeks.
"Oh no, it shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't be like this." He was feeble, helpless, and cried out in anguish.
"Let me go, please, I beg you. I don't know who you are, but please let me go. I am of no value to you."
"Take a look here," he lifted his thin arm and explained to himself, "I have a very weak body, believe me, low blood cell count, poor blood quality. And my stomach, I have a stomach disease, just look at my pale face, you'll know my liver isn't without issues, my lung capacity is poor, and my kidneys and heart probably have problems too. In short, my body is in terrible shape, please let me go."
He shouted at the ceiling, but to no avail.
After a momentary pause, he cursed aloud, calling himself every dirty word he could think of. He cursed until he was bent over, gasping for breath, but still, there was no response.
Feeling defeated, he continued to cry with his head in his hands.
He thought of his parents, a middle-aged couple in their fifties, who had high expectations of him. They hoped he would bring glory to the family name and honor the family. This expectation often caused him unbearable pain, to the point where he almost contemplated ending it all.
But he wasn't truly capable of self-termination. When faced with death, he still felt fear, after all, he was just a teenager.
He hadn't had the chance to enjoy the wonders of life, hadn't squandered his youth as he wished. He still had dreams of attending university and confessing his love to the girl he had been secretly in love with for years. But now, it all seemed like a mirage, a dream trapped in a soap bubble, all slipping away from him.
The more he thought about it, the louder his crying became. His abundant tears flowed like a flooded river, until the entire empty room echoed with his wailing.
He didn't know how long he had been sobbing, an hour? Two hours? Maybe he got tired of crying, or perhaps he became even hungrier, who knew?
In any case, when he fell asleep again, he had a peculiar dream. It went like this:
In the dream, he lay on a flat operating table, his stomach cut open. Twisted intestines, a fist-sized heart still beating vigorously, a reddish-purple liver, a pink stomach with traces of undigested food, and lungs on both sides, with lung lobes engraved with intricate patterns. The flowing fresh blood dyed the smooth table behind him red, pooling into a small blood pond underneath. His skin on hands and feet had also been incised, revealing a few sections of pale bones.
A group of strange-looking people surrounded him, pointing and discussing his body.
They had long heads and pointed ears, all wearing white masks. "Are they dogs?" he wondered, but the eyes above the masks gleamed with an unusual glow, definitely not human eyes, snake-like, with a deep green color. What were they? Goblins from legends? The exposed skin on their foreheads was a shade of green, covered in tiny scales, were they lizards?
Endless fear engulfed him like a tide, and the immense terror jolted him awake from the nightmare. His empty stomach gurgled like a rooster crowing, tormenting his fragile nerves one after another.
He checked his limbs, making sure they were unharmed, wiped off the cold sweat on his forehead. That dream felt too real, to the point where he couldn't tell if it was true or false.
He walked towards the corner of the wall and pounded on it with all his strength, "Hey, is anyone there? Can anyone hear me? Help, save me, I want to live."
After several futile calls, he gave up and hugged himself tightly, crouching down.
This cell was just too cold, with a high humidity in the air. His breath turned into visible vapor, so it was not hard to imagine that it wouldn't be long before he, dressed in slippers and short sleeves, succumbed to hypothermia.
His bluish face twitched uncontrollably, and his shivering body trembled like a sieve. But the most dreadful part was that he didn't know when this agonizing suffering of hunger and cold would end.
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Low temperature syndrome did not take away his life. He spent three days without eating or drinking, and no one can know how he felt during those three days. Just when he thought he was about to reach the end of his life's journey, a door bathed in white light suddenly appeared in front of him, and a peculiar humanoid creature emerged from the door.
The strange figure was dressed in a conspicuous white coat, wearing reflective glasses and a white mask over his face. His pointed ears resembled those of the monsters he had seen in his dreams, making his tall figure appear sacred and majestic in the radiant light.
"Ah, am I going to Heaven? Is this an angel coming to fetch me?" he smiled, feeling a sense of relief once again.
The strange being slowly opened his right hand, revealing a small cubic object placed at the center of his palm. Its deep brown color resembled a chocolate-filled candy.
Overwhelmed by hunger, in his last moments he gathered the last bit of strength and grabbed it, stuffing it tightly into his mouth. Suddenly, a warm sensation rose from his stomach, accompanied by a fleeting feeling of fulfillment.
However, this sense of comfort didn't last long. In less than a second, he felt a suffocating sensation, as if a pair of large hands were tightly squeezing his throat.
His stomach seemed as though it had been filled with a large bucket of lead, and his intestines felt like they were swollen sponges, unable to vomit out even a trace of what he had swallowed, no matter how hard he tried.
Finally, his eyes turned white, his pupils dilated greatly, and as a result of the immense pressure, blood vessels in his eyes became congested, making his pigeon-sized eyeballs appear as if they were about to fall out of their sockets.
The pitiful boy covered his throat with one hand and reached out towards the strange figure in front of him with the other, as if a drowning person trying to grasp anything floating on the water's surface. But he was unsuccessful, and the strange figure watched helplessly as he fell into shock.
When the unfortunate high school student woke up again from his deep sleep, he realized that his head felt as if electric currents were constantly passing through, rendering it numb, and even breathing had become difficult.
Before him lay a green blur, while his neck and joints seemed to be firmly fixed, making it impossible for him to move.
His clothes had been completely removed, leaving his entire body exposed, lying on the operating table he had seen in his dream before.
Thin, semi-transparent tubes were piercing his fair skin, forcibly entering his body, and a pale green liquid was being transported, drop by drop, to every part of his body through the long tubes.
The taste of fatigue and weakness was definitely not pleasant, but compared to the excruciating pain of his abdomen about to burst before, it was somewhat better.
He struggled to move his eyeballs, painstakingly surveying everything around him. The strange figures from his dreams had all become a reality, standing beside him incessantly discussing something.
The sounds they emitted were fragmented and sharp, akin to poisonous snakes hissing and spitting venom, incomprehensible to him. He even felt that the peculiar voices were causing him immense pain; his head was about to explode.
The leader among the strange figures seemed to sense his awakening. He slowly approached him, carefully manipulating his chin with his peculiar large hands, green and covered in scales, as if performing an examination.
After scanning him for a moment, the strange figure stepped back and received an electric drill from an assistant standing nearby.
Wu Fan looked at the buzzing drill, drawing closer and closer, his eyes resembling two panicked rabbits. "No, no, no, stop, stop," he shouted in his mind, but his mouth was like that of a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, unable to make a sound.
In a small house, the conversation between two men could be heard.
They were both exceptionally handsome men.
One of them was wearing a robe as white as pure jade. With a tall hat and an elegant bearing, he stood by the window, gazing at the distant golden clouds and the newly rising sun wrapped within them.
His eyes exuded only gentleness and kindness, the most beautiful emotions in the world. His smile was serene and tranquil.
His brothers had different opinions about his smile. Some thought it was like a gentle breeze, while others believed it resembled the first ray of sunlight in the morning, bringing light and hope to the world. Only his eldest brother held a completely opposite view; he found the smile annoying and repulsive.
He was the most perfect and flawless being in the world, nothing worthy of his worry. But does that mean he never encountered any vexations?
When he was in a bad mood, thunder would roar in the clouds, violent winds would destroy everything on the ground, dormant volcanoes would suddenly erupt, and the earth would begin to crack. The raging sea would launch wave after wave of fierce attacks on the land, cities would be submerged, and civilizations would be destroyed. He had witnessed too much of such events. He had to conceal all negative emotions, striving to remain modest and calm, simply because he was the will of the world, "the Heaven Will."
The other man knelt on a brown straw mat. He had a pair of eyes that were both terrifying and captivating—a pair of emerald snake-like eyes, one of which was a compound eye.
He also had long straight violet hair, the color of morning glories, emitting a faint scent of lucky clovers. He wore a purple coat and placed a small square table in front of him. The table was adorned with various tea utensils: a purple clay teapot, blue-and-white porcelain cups. The man slowly brewed the tea, and the tea water gurgled out of the spout into the cups, filling the room with a fragrant aroma.
The man with purple hair cradled the teacup, exhaled, and took a sip. A small lizard with tiger-striped green spots obediently perched on his broad shoulder.
"My fourteenth brother, it has been a long time since we last met, hasn't it?" The man in white robes spoke first, breaking the tranquility of the room.
"It has indeed been a while since our encounter with our first brother," replied the man with purple hair, licking his lips and smiling lightly.
"You should know why I called you here," the man in white robes snatched the teacup from the purple-haired man's hand and drank it all in one gulp.
"I can guess some of it," the man with purple hair remained unperturbed and poured himself another cup. "He is awakening, or rather, he is slowly transforming into the future of destiny.He is a monster that you cannot defeat. Once he succeeds, the future will destroy the present, and all worlds will cease to exist."
"His lackeys are moving restlessly, attempting to break the seal he left behind years ago, and they also want to retrieve his power. Only then can they realize his plan." The man in white robes once again grabbed the cup of tea poured by the man with purple hair. As he took a sip, the hot steam veiled his ever-changing expression.
"Hehehe," the man with purple hair chuckled, "Do you want me to help Wu Fan?"
"No, Wu Fan's cultivation is his own journey, it's not something you should interfere with," replied the man in white.
"Hehehe, I don't quite understand," the man with purple hair lightly spun the third teacup on the table, and the lizard perched on his shoulder slowly approached the tabletop.
"Some things are destined to happen, and instead of obstructing them, it's better to go with the flow and let them develop faster. The faster they develop, the fewer variables there will be," explained the man in white, setting down his teacup and standing up again.
"My second brother, even if you reduce the variables, do you really have the confidence to deal with him? After all, you know who he is, he has never failed since the day he was born," the man with purple hair smirked, knowing the existence of The Domain Power that made all worlds tremble.
"After all these years, you still refuse to admit that he has failed before?" The white clouds outside suddenly turned into dark clouds, with lightning dancing within. He became angry.
"No, I will never admit that," the man with purple hair stared him down, a confrontation in their eyes.
"That's good, you keep holding onto your beliefs and go ahead with what you want to do," the man in white said.
"I will first find his child, who will lead me to find his father," the man with purple hair stood up and bid farewell. Though he was over six feet tall, he was still shorter than the man in white. "You really trust Wu Fan that much?"
"Our twelfth brother has always been creating miracles, hasn't he?" the man in white smiled calmly.
Miracles, the betrayer's miracles. The man with purple hair thought to himself and smiled along.
Inside the house, a joyful atmosphere filled the air. Outside, a small black snake passed by a semi-thriving ancient tree and fell into a muddy river with a splash.
On the treetop, a blue bird suddenly took flight, glancing at the lizard that poked its head out of the window before soaring towards the distant sky.
A small snake slithered through a forest, and as it passed a tree as thick as several people's embrace, a man suddenly emerged from behind it.
The man walked to the edge of a large tree where a smooth stone monument stood. Surrounded by ancient trees, with silence all around, gentle moonlight seeped through the treetops, casting shadows upon the man's slender figure. His face was not clear, hidden by his oversized cloak.
"Come alive, everyone. I have come to welcome you on behalf of our master. It is time, it is time to offer our hearts for the birth of our master. Now, let us make this world lively again. They have forgotten, forgotten whose mercy has allowed them to survive until now, forgotten who saved them from the abyss of suffering. They have long forgotten the greatness of our master. Now is the time to remind them of everything," the man raised both his hands high above his head, as if in religious worship. The stone monument in front of him began to emit a dazzling red light.
The man pulled out a dagger from his boot and cut his wrist, crimson blood flowing from his white skin. In an instant, the red blood stains began to emit a golden glow, just like the afterglow of the sun. The two beams of light illuminated the darkness, revealing the man's sharp features and his fanatical expression.
He spilled the warm blood onto the stone monument, and intricate patterns, also gold and red, appeared on the surface. With a crack, a crack suddenly appeared on one corner of the monument, followed by a series of cracking sounds. The stone monument began to peel off from the middle, and pieces of stone scattered on the ground, revealing a red vortex gate.
A withered hand reached out from inside the gate, followed by a strange masked figure climbing out. The mask resembled a facial makeup used in Chinese opera, a clean face. The figure was draped in a large, worn-out yellowish-brown robe. After crawling out of the vortex gate, he bent over and stepped aside.
Another hand, and another masked figure emerged from the gate. He wore similar clothes to the first person but was taller and thinner. After walking out of the vortex gate, he stood beside the first person. One by one, more masked individuals appeared from the gate until ten stood in a row, left to right, with their chains clinking on their wrists and ankles.
These peculiar masked figures all wore the same outfit, and they were all chained with identical shackles on their wrists and ankles. As the evening breeze swept across the land, and the cold night startled the crows, the sound of the chains clinking on the masked individuals resonated. They were ancient prisoners, a group of exiles and forgotten souls.
"Now let us begin," the man licked his lips, his eyes emitting a terrifying red glow.
A tall man with wine-red hair was enjoying sunbathing. Wearing sunglasses and whistling, his once snowy-white skin had been tanned to a bronze hue. He possessed a set of enviable eight-pack abs that made women drool and men envious. His long legs were perfectly proportioned to his upper body, emanating a sense of power and a balanced aesthetic.
No matter who saw him for the first time, they would undoubtedly consider him an exceptional model. At this moment, a sand crab sneaked past him, not far from a coconut tree where a Chinese sword lay.
The sword emitted a deep roar, "Dominating the world, dominating the world, dominating the world..."
Strange place, peculiar sword, peculiar man. Everything that happened here was little known.
"Alex, time's up, there is work to be done!" a crisp voice called out, as a blue bird flapped its wings and hovered above the man's head. The man waved his hand, trying to shoo the little creature away.
"You lazy bum, there's no time for sunbathing, you need to get going, do you understand?" The bird flew around his head, constantly pecking at him.
"Hey, buddy, take it easy, take it easy," the man pleaded, his actions anticipated by the bird, which always managed to avoid his attempts to swat it away, pecking him on the head instead. "By the way, don't we have Uncle Wu Fan?"
"Enough already, I'm heading out right away, so stop pecking at me." He walked over to the coconut tree, picking up the unparalleled treasure, a Chinese sword.
"So annoying," he dusted off his clothes, and with a leap, he landed in the open doorway of an interdimensional space.