Chapter 226: The Killer’s Intent

2022-05-20

I never imagined a girl who looked so small and frail could have so much strength. At the same time, I realized that when the personality inside this body shifts, the very same body can even speak a different language. My eyes locked on his face—there was a silent, twisted grin right there.

I had no doubt, in the next moment, he could kill me. Really, if I could see myself right then, my face would be swollen red like foie gras, filled with terror and panic. Yama once said that whenever one of these personalities gives in to murderous intent, he’d appear. Which meant that when I called out the little girl’s personality, I’d also awakened that young woman’s urge to kill.

Darkness closed in on my vision, my head buzzing as if bees were swarming inside, while everything around me went deathly still, like I was drowning. People always say that when death is near, your whole life flashes before your eyes. But for me, with the end so close, all I felt was exhaustion.

It almost seemed like slipping into an endless sleep might not be such a bad choice after all—because living was just so very tiring.

In my daze, I vaguely heard voices: “You can’t just kill him. He’s still useful. Did you forget why we went through all this trouble to track down the owner of those bowls? The very reason you exist is to shield our little sister from the pain of the outside world, but are you going to destroy this body?”

This voice was rich, magnetic and gentle. As they spoke, I felt the grip on my neck finally start to ease—though I was still woozy and weak, sapped of any strength.

“Those people are doomed sooner or later anyway.” That was Yama’s voice.

And after that, everything went black.

When I finally woke up, a fierce pain burned in my neck. I reached up, only to find the skin scraped raw. Only then did I realize just how strong Yama’s grip had been—he’d almost strangled me to death. But as soon as I sat up, the first thing I saw wasn’t anyone I recognized—it was someone wearing a mask.

The mask was pitch black, with a wide red grin stretching across it.

I jolted upright, reaching out to seize them—because I knew exactly who it was. This person could only be Wu Zui. But as soon as I reached for Wu Zui, he dodged away in a flash. It was like my touch repulsed him.

“The real show’s only just begun.” Wu Zui laughed, standing up as he looked down at me. “You’re not allowed to die yet—not until the mission is complete.”

He squeezed my face with one hand. I had no strength to resist him at all. Crouching down, his eerie mask moved to within inches of mine. Through the eyeholes, I could see his eyes—and in them, I saw my own reflection.

Lost and afraid.

Wu Zui leaned in close, whispering, “Remember, I’m the one who cursed you with Guilt Delusion. Remember, I’m the one who killed Liu Yinyan in Dongxing City. And you need to remember—this game has only just begun. The day is coming soon, and when it does, you’ll realize that from the moment we were born, our fate was already decided.”

I stared at Wu Zui, furious but helpless, unable to move a muscle. All I could do was grit out, “Who are you, really? What do you want? Lai San, Old Zhang—these fugitives are all working for you. One day, I’ll dig you out, and whoever’s behind you, too.”

Wu Zui slammed my head to the ground, pain lancing through me—not the kind that comes from the outside, but like sharp needles driving into my mind.

“Actions have consequences,” Wu Zui’s voice rasped, twisted and rough. “You think you’ve suffered? My childhood was far worse than yours. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. It’s only when you tear away the lies that the truth becomes so hard to bear. So you’d better pray you die before you ever find out the truth, or else…”

He let go of my head, dusted himself off, and walked away, laughing. “That’s when life will truly be worse than death! Haha!”

Wu Zui faded into the distance, slipping off into boundless darkness. My throat was parched, I wanted to shout after him but found I couldn’t make a sound.

His footsteps echoed as they disappeared. My head throbbed like it would split open. I still didn’t know who Wu Zui was, but he was targeting me for a reason. It all felt like some vast conspiracy. Ever since he saddled me with Guilt Delusion, I’d felt trapped inside a web he’d spun, forced to play along with his design step by step.

But what exactly was this plan? What was Wu Zui really after? Why take in Lai San and Old Zhang—what was he planning to do with them?

None of it made any sense.

My anxiety spiked. I suddenly yelled, “Wu Zui!”

My shout rang out, echoing through the place. The shock snapped me wide awake. I jumped to my feet, rushing outside—only to find Wu Zui was nowhere to be seen.

A slow, mocking voice called out, “Heh, still dreaming?”

I shook my head, trying to clear it. Then I asked, “Where am I?”

“You’re in my home,” a woman answered softly.

Now I finally saw her face—it was the Killer. But her voice was gentle, delicate, like that of a young girl. Before I could ask about her personality, her cute expression melted away—replaced by the features of an older woman. I realized it was the little sister’s elder sibling.

“I didn’t really mean to kill you,” the woman said quietly as she stood. “But no one is allowed to bully my little sister. If anyone tries, I’ll make sure they pay.”

I rubbed my neck and face, gazing into the distance. “Didn’t someone in a mask come by just now?”

The Killer just smiled and replied, “What are you on about? There’s no one like that here. You must be dreaming.”

I looked at her and said, “Well, since I’ve given you the bowl, why are you keeping me here?”

The Killer flashed a smile. “We spared your life and let you deliver the bowl for a reason. We looked you up online. According to your data, you’re not strong physically, but you’re sharp. And it’s even more important—you have the same kind of mental issues as us.”

I frowned. I’d become a member of the Special Investigation Team—my records were supposed to be classified. Yet the Killer had managed to dig up my file. There’s no way she should have access to documents at that level. As much as it bothered me, I kept it to myself.

Just then, the Killer continued, “So, of anyone, you should understand what it’s like to struggle with mental illness. I’m the most easygoing of our personalities. If Yama had been in control, you wouldn’t have survived.”

“Who saved me?” I asked.

“I did.” Suddenly, the Killer’s entire manner changed. Her voice deepened, her movements took on subtle, masculine traits. He glanced at me, cultured and refined. “I saved you. If I hadn’t shown up in time, Yama would have killed you for sure.”

“Honestly, we only wanted to find the bowl—we didn’t want to hurt anyone. But we can’t control Yama anymore. He appears more and more often. He was supposed to be the one who absorbed all the pain, all the suffering, but now he’s become horribly twisted by it.”

I frowned. “So, your plan is to fulfill Yama’s final wish and let him sleep forever. Otherwise, if Yama becomes the dominant personality, you’re all headed for disaster. That’s the outcome you won’t accept—if Yama drags your body toward destruction, all of you will be wiped out, not just him.”

The refined man nodded. “Exactly. We all share this body. If Yama ruins it, none of us are spared. So the plan was born. Yama has a sadistic streak, but at heart he acts for the host personality.”

He nodded again. “Every time Yama acts, I leave behind those letters. They’re a seal—a way to lock myself in, not others. Yama knows everyone’s secrets and stories, so if he ever sleeps for good, he’ll take the secret of the twelve bowls with him. Then, and only then, will our little sister’s obsession fade and she’ll forget it all. But before that happens, we want her to fulfill her own wish—because her personality will soon vanish, slipping into a permanent sleep.”

“Yeah,” the Killer’s voice abruptly shifted back to female, “it’s a way for us to have another chance at life, to forget the past and start again.”

I looked at the Killer. Her eyes brimmed with sorrow. Someone who never knew a mother’s or father’s love, who’d grown up living in a world of lies. To hide, to survive, she created one personality after another—but in the end, not even they could shield the true host from pain.

No problem ever gets solved by running away from it. That’s just the fate of being human. The more you run, the worse it gets.

There’s an old saying: “Every seven years, all the cells in the body renew themselves—we become a brand new person.” If that’s true, then when memories fade, do we truly become someone else?

“The bowl is behind you,” the woman said. “If you’re willing, we’ll begin.”

“We know there’s a tracker in the bowl,” she continued. “But if we don’t start now, we might never get another chance.”