manynovel Chapter 5: Control
Chapter 5: Control
Chen Motong absolutely did not believe that Fingel, that coward who always backed down in the face of trouble, would dare to wander around in this strange place alone.
She has always scoffed at such bullshit rumors.
But Fingel's disappearance was too complete—there was no trace of struggle in the room, no footprints of an intruder, and even the air was filled with the deathly stillness of settled dust. This made her unable to help but recall the rumors Fingel had relayed in a low voice during the day: in this town, some people had seen the phantom of the dead beckoning from behind the window, and if they followed it, they would never return.
"In this awful weather, he can't have gone far. We have to go find him." Chen Motong's words were cut short—
"BOOM—!!!"
A deafening explosion tore through the night from the other side of town.
A blinding white light suddenly expanded, instantly engulfing the darkness of that area. Flames, like blooming flowers, sprayed outwards, carrying a sticky, hot, oily substance. The ground shook violently, and snow and ice fragments were shaken up and then fell back down.
A distorted human silhouette was thrown high into the air by the blast wave from the epicenter of the explosion, tumbling through the air before finally crashing into the ruins of a house in the distance.
Chen Motong didn't know if that person was Fingel, but it was very likely. She knew that even as a half-blood, it was impossible to survive an explosion of this magnitude.
And drifting intermittently on the wind was also the faint yet clear sound of... a child crying.
A fleeting afterimage suddenly flashed before her eyes.
Zhou Yi shot out like a black lightning bolt, so fast that he left only a series of almost continuous afterimages on the snow, heading straight for the churning sea of fire and thick smoke.
"Come back!" Chen Motong blurted out. "You're not even bringing a weapon, what are you going to do there?"
But the figure didn't hesitate at all, and in the blink of an eye, it merged into the chaos and light in the distance.
Chen Motong gritted her teeth, turned and rushed up the stairs, the wooden steps groaning under her weight. Fingel was probably already dead; if Zhou Yi were to meet with misfortune, how could she face Mans again? She lunged at the metal box in the corner, its surface adorned with an abstract world tree pattern, her fingertips trembling slightly as she quickly entered the password.
"Click".
The latch popped open.
She froze on the spot.
Inside the box, every inch of space was filled with cold, hard rocks.
The special weapons, which should have been lying on the velvet lining, along with all the spare equipment, had vanished without a trace.
Just then, a clear mechanical turning sound came from inside the room.
"Click—"
The wall panel next to the wardrobe twisted inward, revealing a dark doorway. The dark entrance exuded a cold, damp, and decaying smell, just like the one in the hotel owner's room not long ago.
rustling sounds... rustling sounds...
The sound of climbing and rubbing came from below, rapidly approaching—
A dark figure suddenly darted out from the hidden door!
The moment the other person peeked out, Chen Motong recognized them. She grabbed a sharp-edged stone from the box and threw it with all her might, while simultaneously turning and fleeing towards the door.
"Fingal! I'll fuck your grandpa!"
Fingel struggled to lift his head from the rubble and stones, and the half of the charred stone that had been pressing on his back slid off with a crash.
His naked body had a somber, bronze-colored metallic sheen on his skin, and the bones and muscles beneath his skin emitted a series of fine, terrifying popping sounds, just like the boiling rage in his chest at that moment.
"Bang!"
The gunshot rang out crisply, shattering the cold air.
He watched as the tiny figure, no more than four or five years old, suddenly stopped in front of him, its small body leaning backward before collapsing softly into the snow, its neck and above bare.
"I...I'm sorry...If I don't do this, he'll kill me..." The man holding a shotgun and wearing a steel helmet trembled violently, but his eyes revealed a hysterical madness beneath the surface of fear. "So...please, don't run away, let me kill you!"
"You beast...!" Fingel squeezed out a hoarse curse through clenched teeth.
"Beast? You monster!"
Matthew had never imagined that someone could remain motionless after being hit head-on by more than a kilogram of TNT at such close range. Despite Pedro's repeated warnings that "you are not facing a human being," witnessing this surreal scene still sent chills down his spine and made his blood run cold.
He clung tightly to the Remington 870 with its barrel sawed off, and several young children were firmly secured to their torsos and limbs with wide, transparent industrial duct tape, like goods being bundled up. Their chests, backs, outer thighs, inner arms… all vital organs were meticulously covered by their small, delicate bodies, forming a nauseating yet incredibly effective living armor.
"Bang!" Another shotgun shell was fired.
Most of the lead bullets were blocked or deflected by the child in front of him and his thick winter clothes. A few hit Finger's bronze body, splashing sparks and leaving a few shallow dents.
"A monster...it really is a monster!!" Matthew roared to suppress his fear, slowly closing the distance with small steps, trying to get close enough that a shotgun blast would be lethal. He carefully adjusted the angle of his "shield" to avoid exposing any vitals.
Fingel felt a chill run down his spine and understood the other man's intentions. He wanted to stop him, but his leg was injured.
The instant the explosion occurred, the blazing flames and violent shockwave scalded him awake from his vivid illusion. His Word of Power, "Bronze Throne," only managed to cover his upper body in time; his legs below the knees were ripped open, his bones damaged. One second, he was still in his hallucination, tracking Pedro alongside Chen Motong and Zhou Yi; the next, reality had thrown him into this desperate, death-defying abyss in the most brutal way.
The strategist, however, had clearly calculated everything.
He could easily pick up any pebble nearby; with his strength and precision, taking someone's life would be a piece of cake.
But the children, tightly bound to the man's front, sides, and even back with tape, sobbing completely blocked all possible angles, eliminating any possibility of his long-range counterattack. The other side had precisely grasped his bottom line: even in dire straits, he would never indiscriminately harm the innocent.
What about Chen Motong and Zhou Yi?
They couldn't possibly have been completely unaware of such a violent explosion.
Since the other side has set up such a deadly trap, there is absolutely no way it was only aimed at him.
Perhaps they were also caught in the same illusion—that something that could affect him without him even realizing it must be a high-level, possibly never-before-recorded, high-risk Word of Power, or even a mental domain that had never appeared before.
Damn it, a routine mission rated B+ actually hides such a deadly trap... This is clearly a death mission rated at least S!
boom!
Shotgun shells struck again, several hot lead bullets embedding themselves in flesh, causing burning pain, and blood slowly seeped out.
The children's cries were hoarse and weak, like the mournful wails of dying animals, scraping against his nerves.
At that distance, even maintaining the bronze throne, the bullet would already be embedded in the body; if it got any closer...
Is it really going to be a disaster, that we've been playing the fool for so long that we've actually become one?
Fingel, of course, would not sit idly by and wait for his fate. He planned to wait for the right opportunity, dragging his broken legs, to go up and fight.
He was 80% confident he could win over his opponent, but that required the opponent to get a little closer.
But the other party seemed to have seen through his thoughts and strictly followed someone's instructions, stopping at a distance of about ten meters.
He even had the remaining two children stand between him and Fingel, acting as obstacles.
That was a safe distance, enough to react, and even if Fingel fought desperately, the opponent would have ample time to pull the fatal trigger.
Every step was meticulously planned and firmly controlled.
He'd been tricked... Fingel even felt a touch of admiration for the unseen mastermind behind it all.
He wasn't incapable of paying a price to escape, but he couldn't bear to watch more children die because of him. Realizing the next shot might end everything, his thoughts drifted back many years to the warm embrace beneath the icy sea… Perhaps, staying there wouldn't be so bad.
He closed his eyes, his tense muscles relaxing slightly. He awaited the final moment.
However, the expected gunshot did not come; instead, a man's piercing scream, distorted by extreme terror, filled the air.
"Stop right there! Don't come any closer! Or I'll kill him right now!!"
Matthew pointed the scorching hot muzzle of the gun at the thin back of the child in front of him, and Fingel watched helplessly as Matthew's finger pulled the trigger!
"No—!!!" he roared.
next second.
"Bang!"
The gun fired, but the sound was directed towards the sky.
A hand with distinct knuckles gripped the front of the gun barrel tightly, as if cast in iron, and with terrifying force, twisted it upwards just before the trigger was fully depressed.
Zhou Yi had somehow appeared, like a ghost, and stood silently beside Matthew.
The cold moonlight outlined his slender yet upright profile. He turned his head slightly, and his gaze toward Matthew contained no human emotion, only a bottomless, indifferent chill.
He was moving so fast that even Fingel couldn't react in time.
"No...don't kill me! I was forced! Spare me! Please spare me!" Matthew's legs went weak, tears streaming down his face, and he begged for mercy incoherently, his fear completely crushing any remaining madness in him.
Without uttering a word, Zhou Yi snatched the shotgun with irresistible force, then roughly pried open the visor of the other man's old tactical helmet with the barrel tip. He then shoved the still-warm, dark muzzle into the darkness behind the visor.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two muffled, explosive sounds, muffled by the helmet, erupted from within.
A thick spray of blood mixed with brain tissue suddenly gushed out from the gaps and vents in the mask, splashing a shocking crimson pattern across the pale snow.
All the noise and pleas stopped instantly.
Zhou Yi loosened his grip, letting the still-bound child's body, along with the shotgun, collapse heavily to the ground. He crouched down, his fingers steady and strong, and with a few sharp rips, tore off all the thick duct tape binding the child.
He then patted the heads of the other two children, and as if they had been blinded by a ghost, they came to their senses and, after seeing their surroundings clearly, burst into heart-wrenching, almost suffocating wails.
"Junior brother..." Fingel lay on the cold ruins and bloodstains, completely naked, his wounds were gruesome, and his face was a mixture of shame and complicated emotions.
"Senior brother has quite the refined taste." Zhou Yi glanced at him, his tone flat and indifferent. He approached, squatted down, and carefully examined the injuries. Although it looked gruesome and horrific, with blood everywhere, apart from a deep wound on his left chest where sharp shrapnel had cut into him, the rest were mostly lacerations and burns caused by the explosion. For Fingel's physique, the only problem was excessive blood loss, and it wasn't fatal for the time being.
But we can't just leave him lying naked in the freezing cold forever.
Zhou Yi glanced at the inn in the distance, crouched down, and with a slight effort, hoisted Fingel's heavy body onto his shoulder. He then turned to the few trembling, crying, and bewildered children, urging them to follow. His gaze passed over the burning wreckage and landed on one of the only two buildings in the town not far away that still had a steady light on—
It was the three-story stone building from which the piano music had been heard during the day.
As if in response to his choice, the familiar, cold piano music flowed out from the lamplight once again, carried by the night breeze, clearly audible.
It is Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
"Junior brother, this place... is very likely their lair. They are a dangerous being with mental-based incantations." Fingel, perched on Zhou Yi's shoulder, warned in a low voice, his voice unusually grave despite his pain. He was genuinely afraid. With his experience and abilities, he had been caught off guard and defeated in this small place. The methods of the person behind it all sent chills down his spine. He would rather grit his teeth and insist on returning to a more distant inn than rashly venture into this obviously ominous building.
"Don't worry, senior brother," Zhou Yi said calmly without stopping, "If things go wrong, I'll abandon you and run away immediately."
Fingel was speechless for a moment.
The gate to the small building was tightly closed, with heavy iron chains wrapped around the iron fence and a large padlock hanging on it.
Zhou Yi raised his foot and kicked.
"Clang—!"
With a loud crash, the iron gate and its chains twisted and broke open, slamming into the stone walls on either side, the echo spreading muffledly through the wind and snow.
Fingel watched with trepidation. He wondered to himself, had he guessed wrong? Was the opponent's Word of Power not Time Zero and Moment?
Zhou Yi carried Fingel on his back, followed by a string of terrified, sobbing children running into the courtyard. The piano music continued to flow from the third-floor window, cold and smooth, seemingly oblivious to the loud crash of the door being broken down below.
The building doors were also tightly shut. The I Ching followed the same pattern.
"Bang!"
The door collapsed inward. Warm, dry air, carrying the scent of old wood and stone, wafted in, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The fireplace crackled and popped, its flickering flames illuminating the spacious first-floor living room in an eerie brightness—it was excessively tidy, as if uninhabited, yet maintained a comfortable temperature.
The children's blue faces, frozen from the cold, quickly regained their color. They huddled together, looking at Zhou Yi with a mixture of fear and dependence.
"Stay here and don't wander off," Zhou Yi simply instructed, pointing to the warm carpet in front of the fireplace.
The children nodded vigorously and obediently curled up, knowing that it was this older brother who had saved them.
Zhou Yi unloaded Fingel onto a large sofa next to the fireplace, then casually tore off a thick, white tablecloth from the long dining table next to him and threw it over to cover his disheveled body.
No one tried to stop them during the entire process.
Zhou Yi climbed the old wooden stairs. The second floor was empty, and he headed straight for the third floor, the source of the music.
Outside the door of the only room on the third floor, the sight before one's eyes would deter most people: the door was made of heavy cast iron, its joints with the surrounding walls almost airtight. The walls were constructed of hard, cold marble. A dark iron chain, thicker than the courtyard gate downstairs and resembling a child's arm, tightly locked the iron door, with a huge padlock hanging between it.
Zhou Yi stopped in front of the door, his fingers forming a sword shape, a faint golden light emanating from his fingertips, as he slashed through the air at the connection between the iron chain and the lock.
"laugh--"
With a soft click, the chain snapped as easily as butter being cut by an invisible blade. The heavy padlock slammed onto the stone floor with a clang, its dull thud echoing through the empty corridor.
Zhou Yi pushed open the iron gate.
The scene behind the door instantly came into view.
This is by no means an ordinary room; it would be more accurate to describe it as a "torture instrument display room" or a "special prison for women."
In the center of the room stood an exceptionally sturdy and complex metal cage. It was far more robust than common restraint devices, and the metal rings binding the limbs were surprisingly wide, clearly not intended to imprison ordinary people, but rather to deal with beings whose strength far surpassed that of ordinary people—such as hybrids.
A pair of shackles and handcuffs were draped over the bed, equally large and heavy, with worn edges that gleamed with a cold, hard light.
The walls were covered with a dense array of metal torture instruments, not as decorations, but as objects of various kinds, most of which were unidentifiable.
On one side of the room stood an unsettling rocking horse and mechanical device (cannon). Next to it was a huge bed large enough to accommodate several people, and a white bathtub that was also unusually spacious.
Then, at the very back, near the narrow window overlooking the cliff and the sea, stands a jet-black grand piano.
The man sat on the piano bench with his back to Zhou Yi. He wore a black dress and had long, flowing black hair. His slender fingers danced skillfully across the keys, and the sonata was flowing into its final movement, the music echoing in the empty and eerie stone chamber.
As the Book of Changes approached him, the sonata glided right into its final, coda-like note.
The music stopped abruptly.
"はじめまして."
"Japanese?" Zhou Yi frowned.