Chapter 22: Unprecedented Fear
The rotting old woman had no physical form, yet she looked like a real person and could even speak. To an ordinary person, this would be absolutely impossible, but the truth was, it was so.
As for why this was, who knew?
Just as no one knew why there were humans, or why there was all creation. The principle was the same.
Existence itself was rational. Why so many questions?
At this moment, Yang Haoran naturally wasn't concerned with how the rotting old woman could make sounds. He was utterly terrified by the scene before him, and his legs trembled uncontrollably.
He had only one thought in his mind now: to flee, to escape this place immediately, to get as far away as possible!
Unfortunately, his legs refused to obey. His body seemed to be beyond his control, and he could only watch in horror as the rotting old woman crunched and gnawed at her fingers right in front of him.
After finishing one finger, the rotting old woman seemed unsatisfied, as if she hadn't eaten her fill. So, she bit into another finger, gnawing on it as if it were a pickled chili chicken foot.
Yang Haoran could swear that in his entire life, he had never experienced such a terrifying scene. Even though this was his line of work, the sight before him still filled him with unprecedented terror. His face was contorted with fear, and he wildly swung the kitchen knife in his hand like a madman, hacking furiously at the rotting old woman.
Without exception, the sharp kitchen knife, just as before, passed right through the rotting old woman's body, inflicting not the slightest harm. Instead, every single hack landed on the wall, producing crisp, despair-inducing sounds.
This kitchen knife, which usually provided him a sliver of security—he had used it just last night to chop up a duck, and it was incredibly sharp—yet now, this very sharp kitchen knife had become like a child's toy knife, utterly powerless against the terrifying rotting old woman.
Watching Yang Haoran scream like a madman, the rotting old woman was delighted. The curve of her wide mouth grew even wider. She seemed quite pleased to see her prey reduced to such a state before her, panicking and screaming. She truly savored it.
"Heh heh heh heh, young man, Grandma's fingers aren't enough to eat. What should Grandma do? How about Grandma eats your fingers instead?"
The rotting old woman's words were a massive shock to Yang Haoran. Under his terrified gaze, the old woman opened her blood-red maw. Her mouth stretched so wide that some maggots even fell from her face into her mouth. Yet, she paid them no mind, letting them wriggle freely within her mouth.
It truly was a blood-red maw, large enough to bite off a basketball. Its sharp fangs glinted with a cold light, and it snapped towards Yang Haoran's head. From her expression, it seemed she intended to swallow Yang Haoran's entire head in one bite.
She had said she would eat his fingers, but the rotting old woman had fixed her gaze on Yang Haoran's head instead. If this were any other time, Yang Haoran would surely have cursed the old woman for being two-faced. But now, he was in no position to care about such trifles.
Yang Haoran let out another terrified shriek. Although he knew perfectly well that the kitchen knife in his hand was useless against the rotting old woman, he still subconsciously sped up his chopping.
At this moment, he displayed an overwhelming will to survive. He was like a drowning person, knowing there was nothing around him, yet still struggling desperately, trying to grasp a lifeline that simply didn't exist.
However, doing so would not change anything; instead, it would only make his heart fill with even greater fear.
Just as the rotting old woman's blood-red maw was about to envelop Yang Haoran's entire head, at that very moment, a black light suddenly flared from Yang Haoran's chest.
Under the moonlight, this black light wasn't particularly noticeable, yet it was undeniably real. For some reason, the rotting old woman suddenly let out a shriek—a shriek that held a hint of terror. Not only did she retract her blood-red maw, but her body also drifted backward, creating some distance between herself and Yang Haoran.
Although Yang Haoran was terrified and panicked, he hadn't completely lost consciousness. He saw the rotting old woman's reaction, which, while filling him with dread, also sparked a flicker of doubt.
His gaze fell upon the rotting old woman. He noticed she was staring grimly at his chest, with a distinct look of apprehension in her eyes.
Yang Haoran's heart jolted. He seemed to have suddenly remembered something. He hastily threw aside the kitchen knife in his hand and frantically pulled an object from his chest.
It was a Death God Pendant, identical to the Death God Pendant Yang Haoran had lent to Jiang Zhenzhen. However, this Death God Pendant wasn't the one he had lent to Jiang Zhenzhen. Instead, it was another Death God Pendant he had acquired when he went to the Death God Temple to ask for blessings.
He had lent his old Death God Pendant to Jiang Zhenzhen, and Jiang Zhenzhen would surely be using it for some time. Without a Death God Pendant on him, he always felt uneasy. So, when he went to the temple again, he simply asked for another one, had it consecrated by a temple keeper, and then wore it himself.
The Death God Pendant was no longer emitting black light at this moment, appearing unremarkable. However, the rotting old woman still had her gaze fixed on the pendant in Yang Haoran's hand. He saw this with absolute clarity.
She was afraid of the Death God Pendant!
Yang Haoran hadn't been scared witless yet. The rotting old woman's current reaction naturally made him understand this point.
To prove whether his guess was true, he abruptly tore the Death God Pendant from his neck, and then, clutching the Death God Pendant, he thrust his arm sharply forward.
The rotting old woman's expression changed, as if she had seen something terrifying. Her body instinctively drifted backward again.
She truly was afraid of the Death God Pendant in his hand. Yang Haoran was certain of this.
This discovery filled Yang Haoran with immense joy. It was like a drowning person suddenly clutching a lifeline. His excitement was indescribable; he nearly burst into tears.
However, Yang Haoran didn't let this newfound hope make him complacent. Although he was incredibly agitated, the fear the rotting old woman inspired in him hadn't lessened. He was still very flustered and terrified.
The pendant, which he had initially held with one hand, was now gripped tightly in both of Yang Haoran's hands, as if fearing this life-saving treasure would suddenly vanish from his grasp. The sense of security the Death God Pendant brought him at this moment was far greater than that provided by the kitchen knife he had cast aside.
His body, which had been frozen stiff, now seemed to regain its ability to move. Yang Haoran clutched the Death God Pendant with both hands. While silently praying to the Death God Pendant, his body slowly retreated towards the doorway.
He watched the rotting old woman's every move, not missing even a single expression. If the rotting old woman showed any sign of lunging at him, he would turn and run, escaping this place at top speed.
As for whether he would succeed in escaping, that would be left to fate.
The distance between Yang Haoran and the doorway was merely one large step. This was because he had rushed into the room with too much force earlier. Under normal circumstances, he could have cleared that distance with a single push of his leg. But now, he shuffled inch by agonizing inch, as if the doorway was a hundred thousand miles away, unable to reach it for an eternity. For him, this was an extreme form of mental torture.
Beads of cold sweat, large as beans, dripped from his face and shattered on the floor. Some even ran into his eyes, causing him immense discomfort. Yet he dared not wipe them, not even daring to blink, allowing tears to mix with sweat and roll from the corners of his eyes.
The scene he most dreaded in his heart did not occur. Yang Haoran's trembling body had slowly retreated to the doorway. The rotting old woman showed no sign of lunging at him; instead, her face was filled with reluctance. Several times she had wanted to pounce, but in the end, she gave up.
Yang Haoran didn't breathe a sigh of relief. As long as he hadn't left this place, he wouldn't relax. His nerves remained taut, his feet still slowly shuffling backward.
Slowly, one of his feet stepped out of the room. If he could just pull his other foot out, then he would have officially left this terrifying haunted house.
Under the tense, suffocating atmosphere, Yang Haoran's other foot also retreated out of the room. The rotting old woman still didn't pounce. His heart was a mix of surprise and apprehension. He was about to turn and flee this place without a second thought.
But, when his gaze fell upon Jiang Zhenzhen, his body, poised to turn, involuntarily paused.
Jiang Zhenzhen lay on the floor, her fate unknown. If he were to simply run away now, what would await Jiang Zhenzhen? Would it be death?
Although Yang Haoran couldn't be certain, he felt it was highly probable. From the rotting old woman's actions, it was clear she not only wanted to kill Jiang Zhenzhen but even wanted to kill him too. If not for the Death God Pendant in his hand taking effect, it was debatable whether he would even be alive right now.
Jiang Zhenzhen was still so young. She was only twenty-one, with a long life ahead of her. If she were to die here at such an age, it would truly be a great pity.
If Jiang Zhenzhen had been a complete stranger to him, Yang Haoran might not have cared about her life or death. But Jiang Zhenzhen wasn't a stranger. Although he and Jiang Zhenzhen couldn't quite be considered friends yet, she was, by all accounts, his client. Furthermore, this rotting old woman was a problem Jiang Zhenzhen had hired him to handle. Now that something like this had happened, as a "master," he bore undeniable responsibility.
Yang Haoran wasn't a soft-hearted pushover. When it came to responsibility, if it was his, he would shoulder it; if it wasn't, he would turn a blind eye. Since this current situation undeniably fell under his responsibility, then he absolutely had to shoulder it. If he were to simply run away alone, he would live with the guilt for the rest of his life.
His body, which had already turned halfway around, trembled as Yang Haoran forced it back around. Not only did he not flee, but he stepped back into the room, his face resolute.
It wasn't that he wasn't afraid. One could tell from his body, trembling like a sieve, that his heart was absolutely filled with terror. Because what he was doing right now was no different from seeking death. It would be strange if he weren't afraid.
It was just that, compared to death, there was something else he found even more terrifying: and that was guilt.
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