Chapter 239: Death Q&A
Yi Chen didn’t hesitate and handed over the large pouch of Grave Tea he had just obtained.
Though the tea was certainly valuable, it wasn’t essential. Besides, he could always purchase more from the organization later, there was no need to start off with the highest-grade brew.
As all the tea leaves were swallowed by the old woman in one gulp, her face lit up with satisfaction.
“Young people these days really are quite sensible. The conversation ti remains at one hour, but I’ll give you sothing extra…”
The old woman reached out with her gnarled, tree-branch-like fingers and gently touched her own cheek.
“Your ‘Corpse Makeup’ is rely a disguise—it’s nowhere near enough. I’ll teach you more effective, and deadly, applications. They’ll be a great help to you in your current state.
Co find
every Saturday night at midnight. One hour each ti.”
“Thank you, Granny Tang.”
“No need to thank . After all, you’re only the second Undying One I’ve ever co across in all my years of living—the first being myself, of course.
Ask whatever you want, but make sure to leave this room before the candle burns out. Otherwise… I might not be able to restrain my rotting urges and end up doing sothing far too kind to you.”
Her blackened tongue, covered in ulcers yet disturbingly agile, stirred the air like a ribbon—twisting, folding, rolling. making slick, aty sounds that sent shivers down the spine.
It was clear: if Yi Chen didn’t leave on ti, that tongue would be the instrunt of punishnt.
Yi Chen didn’t seem at all fazed by Granny Tang’s grotesque habits. Instead, he seized the mont to ask what truly mattered.
“I want to know why we’re still alive after death. Why didn’t we just die like most people do, quietly and completely?”
Granny Tang pulled a sheet of sandpaper from one of the drawers and began sanding the deep wrinkles on her face. As the skin flaked away, she spoke:
“I searched for the answer to that question for a long ti. At first, I thought it had sothing to do with zombies. But then one day, a Taoist priest plastered every talisman he had onto my body… and I still twisted his neck without a second thought. That theory was clearly flawed.
Later, I assud I had been overlooked by the King of Hell himself, that maybe no one ca to collect my soul when I died, so it lingered in my corpse.
But in all this ti, I’ve never once seen an Ox-Head or Horse-Face soul reaper. As society progressed and science advanced, I stopped putting faith in those superstitions.
Eventually, I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. It was during my daily chats with Dr. Lu Xin that I began to notice sothing.
I’ve been dead for 471 years. I’ve forgotten and discarded so many things—but there are so mories that remain crystal clear. Every ti I think about them, the hatred makes my entire body convulse.
With what I’ve learned from the hospital’s research, I ca to a rough conclusion: it has sothing to do with the obsessive attachnt I had in life. An unrelenting obsession that ti cannot erode.
That obsession is what keeps
‘alive.’
Once it fades… perhaps then I’ll finally die like a normal person. Tell , young man, do you have an obsession buried deep in your heart? I can see the defiance and hatred in your eyes.”
“I do.”
“Then there’s no mistake. We’re the sa. We belong to a category of beings tied to death—what the world calls the Aberrations.”
Her words gave Yi Chen pause.
These past two years working as a “temp,” encountering and battling all kinds of Aberrations, had made him question the nature of his own undead state. Could he be considered one of them as well?
Granny Tang went on, “Our world may appear orderly and peaceful on the surface, but in truth, it’s riddled with chaos. Humanity, this species that accidentally gained consciousness—is full of unpredictable variables.
With a population this large, it’s inevitable that so individuals turn out extre, antisocial, violent, or obsessive.
Their thoughts twist over ti, warping the very fabric of their souls, until their essence changes. That’s how Aberrations are born.
But we’re not quite the sa as those creatures. We retain self-control. It’s only when our obsessions are involved that we lose composure.
Unlike those Aberrations that must constantly seek an outlet. indulging in tornt, fear, and slaughter as a form of pleasure.
I’ve killed before, yes—but that was four centuries ago.”
“I see…”
Yi Chen nodded thoughtfully. The explanation made sense.
He could accept that once the orphanage was reduced to rubble, and Director Cao was dead, he might finally release his inner demons, let go of his obsession and quietly pass on.
At that mont, Granny Tang, who had just sanded one side of her face into that of a forty-year-old woman, licked off the powdered dead skin with her tongue, chewed it, and swallowed before continuing:
“Of course, all of this is just the subjective speculation of an old woman. There might be deeper, more fundantal reasons at play that we simply don’t understand yet. Since we’re the sa kind, we can explore this mystery together over ti.
Just rember our Saturday appointnts. I’ll have the candle ready.”
Yi Chen glanced at the red candle burning on the dressing table only about one-sixth of it remained. He had to make the most of the ti left to ask his final question.
He raised his hand and wiped a drop of black liquid from the small puncture at the center of his brow.
“What is this stuff?”
“I don’t actually know what the black liquid is,” the old woman answered. “Why it cos from our bodies, where it originates—I’ve never figured that out.
I only know that the amount of black liquid increases with our ti of death, through repeated use, or due to certain unknown triggers. My entire body is now saturated with it.
The blood flowing in my veins, the fluids coating my organs, even the sweat that seeps from my pores—it's all beco this black liquid.
Don’t reject it.
The black liquid is sothing unique to us. It’s an integral part of our bodies now. It may even be a gift—bestowed upon us by death itself.
Try to connect with it. Try to control it. When danger cos, it’ll be your most reliable ans of defense. Of course, if it’s killing you want… it’s extrely efficient at that, too.
It’s ti for you to leave, young man… Otherwise, I truly won’t be able to hold myself back anymore.”
The candle’s fla flickered violently.
Yi Chen felt sothing strange beneath his feet. When he looked down, he saw the black liquid on the ground had transford—writhing into tongue-like creatures, each sprouting tiny arms, climbing up his sneakers and licking the laces and brand tag.
“Granny Tang, see you next ti!”
He quickly said goodbye and exited the room.
Yi Chen shut the door almost exactly as the last sliver of the candle’s fla died out...
Smack! Smack! Smack! Violent, whipping noises rang out from within the room, tongues slapping against surfaces. Over a dozen of the twisted tongues shot through the narrow window slit in the door, reaching out as though trying to lure him back.
Granny Tang, in that mont, seed to have beco soone or sothing else entirely. It was as if a seductive whisper brushed against Yi Chen’s ear:
“Co back in, handso… let’s have so fun.”
But Yi Chen, who’d grown up in an orphanage, wasn’t rattled. He simply gave the iron door a polite bow before turning and walking away.
As he made his way back to the doctor’s office, the corridor was lined with cells holding all manner of Aberrants—creatures that leered at Yi Chen and hurled out their “invitations.”
So reached out with twisted limbs,
So called out in mocking tones or seductive whispers,
So even sprayed strange fluids through the small windows in their cell doors.
But when they saw what Yi Chen was doing, all those invitations ceased instantly.
All along the hallway,
Yi Chen had his index finger inserted deep into the puncture in his forehead—and he was gently rotating it.
By stimulating the prefrontal cortex directly with his finger, he was enhancing his focus and ntal clarity, replaying the earlier conversation in his mind, completely ignoring the chaos around him.
If any of the inmates crossed the line, he would turn toward them with a chilling, deathly stare an expression so cold it seed capable of shattering bone.
Eventually, he arrived at the office of his supervising doctor—Lu Xin.
There, he slowly withdrew his finger from the hole in his skull, placed it into his mouth, and calmly sucked the remaining black liquid off it before wiping it clean with a tissue.
He gave himself a quick touch-up, concealing the hole on his forehead with so light makeup. After adjusting his clothes and regaining his smile, he stepped into the office.
Following a brief exchange, Yi Chen—now officially designated a “Lone Wolf”—received his first kill mission.
A local arts academy had recently seen a disturbing rise in student suicides. The rate over the past month was more than twenty tis higher than the city’s average. Every reported case involved hanging.
A week ago, a temporary investigation team was sent to look into the matter, but they turned up nothing. It’s now suspected that a particularly cunning Aberration is hiding in the school one with advanced counter-surveillance abilities that only targets individuals when they are alone.
The assignnt now falls to Yi Chen, the newest full-ti agent—who just happens to be the perfect age to pose as a new student.
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