Warning: The chapter is extremely painful to read. Read at your own discretion.
Editor: Junyans
Xia Tian received an opportunity.
At some point in the hellish place, the narrator stated, “Now, a ‘master’ wishes to personally intervene and teach His Excellency, the God of War a lesson—”
Xia Tian was curled up in a corner of the bed at that time, unable to move a muscle. Not long ago, he had suffered severe dehydration and massive internal bleeding. He would not have survived long without treatment. After injecting him with nutrients and therapeutic injections, the snake once again pulled him out of his curled up position and dragged him to the torture rack.
“This will be a showcase of extremely bloody and artistic means of taming. When used on His Excellency, the God of War, it will be a meal with a salty, spicy, and explosively flavorful taste—”
This time, the snakes dragged Xia Tian to face the rack, crossed his hands and tied them to a fence, spread his legs apart, and buckled them into the confinement ring. The posture was standard, like a dish being presented.
Xia Tian’s head pressed against the railing—the railing had been transformed from the upward-reaching hand of a certain statue. His long hair was disheveled, and he was trembling uncontrollably. He looked utterly miserable. He was certain there were cameras on the opposite side, and he couldn’t hide anything.
If this were a banquet, he felt like he had been completely minced, unable to recall the shape of a human. He couldn’t determine what was supporting him.
Closing his eyes, he imagined Bai Jingan beside him. Something crazy lurked in the depths of that man’s quiet gray eyes, and he could come up with a great idea at any time. Together, they were… great. There was nothing they couldn’t do.
He spoke to the man in his most aggrieved voice, “Lil’ Bai, they hurt me so much.”
“I know. I’ll find you soon. Just wait a bit longer,” Lil’ Bai said, “I have an amazing plan. If you miss out on such a great event, you’ll regret it so much that, even when you die, you’d want to die a second time just from the sheer discontent.”
“Lil’ Bai doesn’t talk like that. Besides, it’s impossible. This is a Guest Show, not some underground club,” Xia Tian said.
“That’s how I talk,” Bai Jingan said, “and I can do it.”
“Then don’t make me wait too long…” Xia Tian said, then suddenly woke up.
The dream faded, and a snake injected him with a shot of energy potion and nutrients. He needed to be awake for the next performance.
He moved a bit and heard a faint rustling on his left.
He turned to look and saw the wall turning into countless interlocking red fangs, retreating in all directions. The exposed fangs began to twist and roll naturally, morphing into the battle patterns of the God of War.
Within a few seconds, a doorframe appeared on the wall. A small piece of sunlight seeped in, and Xia Tian smelled the fragrance of champagne and red wine cake.
Ah… fully made up of controllable nanomaterials, he thought. Besides external password control, there was simply no way out. It must have cost a fortune, probably enough to buy the entire headquarters of the Killing Show Team Tournament.
The “master” walked in.
“Mr. Qi” appeared, wearing a black suit and a devil half-mask made of black, red and dark blue feathers. It was so delicate and thin that it looked as if it really grew out of his face. Various colored gems embedded on it sparkled with a chaotic light, incorporating a bit of every color scheme.
He walked towards Xia Tian with an authoritative posture, his eyes cold and playful, like a guest at some magical banquet. Xia Tian could smell the odor of a slaughterhouse’s offal pile accompanying him.
The snakes that bound Xia Tian’s hands tightened, ensuring that he was trapped in place.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Xia Tian stared at his bound wrists, and in that moment, he vividly recalled the information he had seen about the “snake.” A sharp flame ignited in his mind, a light devoid of any warmth in the layers of blood and ashes, as sharp as a blade.
“Master” took a step back and looked at his back. Xia Tian waited.
When he was made to strike this pose, he knew what was coming.
Whip.
The whip was pitch black and non-reflective, completely covered with what looked like large mouths. Only the whip’s tip was blood-red, emitting a threatening buzzing sound that made one’s internal organs itch, like countless hungry insects waiting to devour its prey.
When the first whip struck, Xia Tian’s mind went blank.
It was a pain so intense that it could shatter his soul in an instant. It surpassed his endurance, rendering consciousness unable to piece itself back together. His already powerless body suddenly tensed, and a whimper escaped his lips. It was pitiful unlike himself, resembling a small creature begging for mercy.
He heard the narrator excitedly saying, “The whimper of His Excellency, the God of War, is truly a top-notch piece of erotic art—”
The second whip came down.
Xia Tian’s forehead slammed the iron frame heavily. He had wanted to move even a little bit forward to avoid the crazy whip, but the snakes clung tightly to him, leaving him immobilized.
The orange light shone on him relentlessly, as if he were a highly recommended item in a jewelry store.
Then came the third lash.
Xia Tian screamed, his fingers spread out, and he tensed up. He was the star of the Killing Show, an expert in all firearms and cold weapons, and could kill anyone who dared to provoke him, but now he was firmly bound to the frame, powerless to attack and only able to endure.
He didn’t remember how many times he was whipped; he seemed to lose consciousness for a short while. When he came to, he found that the whipping had stopped, and someone was gripping his hair tightly, forcing him to raise his head.
His face was exposed under the light, utterly disheveled. He was crying.
Mr. Qi looked on with satisfaction.
“I always thought you were perfect for taking a whipping,” he said.
He pulled Xia Tian’s hair as if he were pulling some animal’s fur, but his eyes were full of lust.
“You have a fierce nature, fundamentally a wild beast that can’t be tamed. But there’s nothing a whip can’t teach you,” he said. “No need to tell me you’re in pain; I won’t listen. I’ll keep whipping you; you’ll scream, lose control, but I won’t stop—”
He took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale all the blood, sweat, and the scent of despair from Xia Tian’s body.
“When you’re thanking your lucky stars that death is finally approaching, we’ll heal you, bind you up, and then start again. I have three thousand two hundred whips to choose from. Your bones are tough, but I reckon around the twentieth one should be enough.”
Xia Tian let out a choked sob, the sound so faint, like the last unwilling whimper of the soul sinking into the depths of hell. In a place like this, it only fueled people’s sadistic desires and crushed that last shred of resistance.
He felt Mr. Qi’s grip on his hair suddenly tighten before the man took a step forward and pressed him against the torture rack.
The man was aroused, his erect penis pressed against Xia Tian’s buttocks like an animal in heat.
He said, “This skill of yours will be quite useful when you’re trying to curry favor—”
Xia Tian stared at the torture rack, his eyes burning stubbornly with resentment and hatred amidst extreme humiliation.
At the same time as Mr. Qi pressed forward, he moved his wrist up two inches. The angle was extremely small, but he exerted force instantly, like a sudden blow from a beast hiding in the grass. One of the countless spikes on the torture rack stabbed into the body of the “snake.”
The grip on his wrist loosened.
This was the weakness of the “snake.” Minkov Jr. had mentioned in the data that the outer skin of this thing had highly sensitive elements, causing sharp pain to instantly rebound onto the operator.
In this momentary relief from restraint, Xia Tian grabbed the snake’s body with one hand and ruthlessly pulled it down along the spike.
The snake instantly lost its strength, as if it were truly a snake that had been slashed open from throat to belly with a knife. Xia Tian could almost hear a sharp scream coming from behind the scenes.
In the moment of breaking free, Xia Tian turned around, seized the hand of the “master” with the adorned ring, twisted it back, and then made a horizontal cut—
His movements were subtle but extremely swift, and he did everything in one go. The fangs on the ring instantly sliced through the man’s windpipe, cutting straight to the artery, and blood sprayed out.
In just two seconds, before the man could grasp what had happened, the eyes of the pet who had cried so much that it could make people itch from the very bottom of their souls was filled with murderous intent. It was a savage and immense hatred, born from the brutal and dark depths of the underworld—untameable.
Xia Tian didn’t even bother to look at him. In the moment of cutting the artery, he grabbed a metal-embroidered chip from the chest of opponent’s suit.
He didn’t know what Mr. Qi thought he’d been thinking, but from the first moment Xia Tian had seen him, his gaze had locked onto that embroidery.
The metal thread embroidery was a complicated and expensive pattern typical of the rich and powerful in the Upper City. Dozens of small chip-like metal blocks were arranged to resemble the shape of a river. Each one has a history and background, representing the achievements and achievements of different clubs. Medals and marks of lethal prey.
The one that Xia Tian was seeing was of an ordinary style. It was a crystallized metal piece with fine electronic patterns carved into it, forming a pistol shape resembling a shark.
In the instant he saw it, he realized what it was.
It was a miniature, shape-shifting gun with advanced concealment features.
People like them always knew where and how to hide weapons, as well as how to avoid detectors.
He was confident that the Guest Show didn’t support guests bringing personal weapons which were too powerful. It was a rule that applied everywhere but was rarely enforced.
After all, weapons were the most fashionable accessories in this world; it would be embarrassing to go out without them.
Certainly, the control at the Guest Show’s feast would be stricter than at the Killing Show’s banquet, but the methods of the high-ranking guests were also more discreet. Nowadays, there was no place that truly banned weapons.
In Xia Tian hands, the chip instantly transformed into a gun. No genetic authentication was needed, and the man had just brought such a weapon into the cage. How simple-minded was he exactly? Mr. Qi, who had three thousand two hundred whips and was not yet dead, glared at him, wanting to say something, but Xia Tian didn’t pause for a second. He aimed the gun at the other person’s head and fired.
No matter what plans he had or how many whips he had, death was instantaneous.
Xia Tian glanced at the corpse with brains bursting out and feathers flying around. There was a sneer on the corner of his mouth, revealing the disgust and hatred in his bones. The smile was as sharp as a blood-stained blade, making people shudder and leaving no room for maneuver.
At the moment Xia Tian broke free from the restraints, seized the gun and killed the opponent, he knew what he had to do next.
He should shoot himself in the head.
At the fastest speed, enough to prevent even the sturdiest chains from looping around his neck again.
No matter how advanced the doctors were, they couldn’t bring him back alive and drag him back to that rack.
After all, escape was not even an option.
He was trapped in the depths of the playground of the big shots, with a punishment chip embedded in the back of his neck and filthy chains embedded in every bone and nerve. If he didn’t die, they would catch him again and tie him back to the rack to continue the entertainment.
He knew they would eventually make him open his mouth. The torture racks of the upper-class bigwigs had stood there for thousands of years. They also had an immense database of torture records and a vast and lengthy history. The amount of blood, pain, decaying corpses and shattered dignity they had created was enough to create a massive stinking sea.
He would be crushed bit by bit on it. He would cry, scream in pain, and plead. He would play games, ask for their favor, or laugh for their amusement.
Those people would suck his bone marrow dry until nothing was left. After playing enough… Whether they killed him or not, what difference did it make?
With just one shot, all the nightmares would end.
He wouldn’t… feel pain anymore, wouldn’t have to endure the pitch-black, lightless future, forced to endure means that he simply couldn’t bear. After killing “Mr. Qi,” the upcoming scene would probably be particularly bloody, and just thinking about it gave him the chills.
He was but a mortal. He once had loving relatives and friends, but now they were all lost. He had experienced many things and killed many people. He has tried his best to fight, but now—
These people could go crazy however they wanted, he’d had enough!
But for a moment, he hesitated.
He thought of Bai Jingan.
Lil’ Bai, who had once been crushed… fearlessly faced everything, but would be hurt if he died.
He knew that Bai Jingan must be desperately trying to save him, resisting at any cost, and probably irritating a bunch of troublesome characters—He didn’t care; he had no concept of safety at all.
It was an impossible thing, but…
If Bai Jingan really succeeded, finally arrived here, scarred but hopeful, to tell him that he kept the promise, to take him home…
But only to find his lifeless body?
If Lil’ Bai had tried his best and still couldn’t keep him, what then?
What expression would he have?
Xia Tian couldn’t bear that scene.
He lifted his head, raised his hand, and fired five shots into the wall. The nanomaterials deactivated, revealing a crooked doorway.
He walked out.
The metallic reflection on the wall displayed his face, stern and resolute like the visage of the God of War. In this lascivious atmosphere, he remained as sharp as a blade.
He knew this was a dead end, but he would resist one more time.
He would wait for Lil’ Bai a bit longer, until… until he really couldn’t hold on anymore.
But for now, he could continue.
congratulations to the author and translator…thanks to you i have broken the world record of holding my breath and the loudest scream ever to be produced by a human vocal chord
Hope your throat is okay!
oh,it will be fine…and so will my heart
what an intense chapter, Mr. Qis death was very cathartic