Paintings of Terror

After Ma Zhenhua died, there were only eleven people left. Regardless of whether the tent requirement was going to be two, three or four—someone would be left out. That meant that at least one person would die tonight!

Furthermore, an additional selection criterion would be added tonight. Who knew what it would be? No one would be able to tell whether or not they had fulfilled the criterion. No one knew what they should or should not do.

The uncertainty was like a heavy mass of fear that pressed down on their heads.

The mission today was the same as before: find the offerings that the middle-aged man had listed.

After breakfast, Mu Yiran, Ke Xun and Wei Dong headed north.

There was a mountain range in the north. The mountain peaks were all covered in snow. The light reflecting off of the snow was blinding. However, after a thorough examination, Ke Xun realized that this light was the same as the light on the first day—it wasn’t actual sunlight. There was no source of light. It just appeared to be everywhere.

The blue sky above their heads was as expansive as ever. When they looked up, it felt like there was something huge hidden within its depths. It felt more cramped than it did on the first day, like something was on the verge of falling. It felt like the sky was pressing down on them.

Ke Xun found it hard to breathe.

It was awful. Despite being in the wide, spacious Ganxiong Highlands, he felt claustrophobic.

Ke Xun covered his mouth and nose with his hand. Suddenly, he felt his head throb in pain.

“Ke er?” Wei Dong had noticed Ke Xun’s abnormality. He promptly went over to support him. “What’s wrong? Morning sickness?”

Ke Xun: “…Fuck you. I’ll vomit amniotic fluid onto your face.”

“Look at how pale your little face is.” Wei Dong couldn’t help but worry upon seeing Ke Xun’s complexion. He hollered to Mu Yiran who was walking in front. “Boss, Ke er seems to be suffering from altitude sickness.”

Mu Yiran glanced at them and then walked over. He examined Ke Xun’s face and then said in a flat voice, “Either we rest for a bit or you head back on your own.”

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.

“You’re planning on going alone?” Ke Xun looked at him.

He glanced at Mu Yiran while offering that suggestion.

Mu Yiran gave him a cold look. “It’s not altitude sickness. It’s a mental condition manifesting physiologically. He’ll be fine after he adjusts himself.”

He then turned around and continued to walk forward.

“Truly heartless,” Wei Dong whispered to Ke Xun.

“Better than you who’s trying to make trouble without reason.” Ke Xun straightened up. “Don’t fool around.”

“You spoiled me. If you want to blame someone for my trouble-making, blame yourself.”

Ke Xun knew that the other was referring to how he had lost control of his emotions last night.

When friends were as close as they were, there were a lot of things that could be left unsaid. Nothing would come out of a slip of a tongue like that. The two of them shared a tacit understanding. They understood each other.

Just like that, the matter was wrapped up with a single sentence. Wei Dong then said, “Say, what mental issue are you dealing with? Why were you suddenly physiologically aroused?”

Ke Xun: “…Aroused my ass. It’s a physiological reaction to stress, okay.”

Wei Dong: “Fine. What triggered your physiological reaction?”

Ke Xun: “…Fucking hell.”

“Don’t you feel like,” Ke Xun said as he pointed overhead, “The sky and earth are ridiculously close together? And it’s like we can’t see through the sky, It’s as if it’s an iron plate that’s been painted blue. It’s pressing down on us.”

Wei Dong looked up at the sky and then shook his head, hesitant. “I don’t have that feeling. The sky looks pretty far up to me. If I analyze it with an artistic lens, I’d say that it’s pretty bland. There aren’t any layers. It’s like someone used blue paint to draw a single layer across the canvas. There’s no depth to it. I feel like there’s an issue with the quality of the painting’s canvas.”

“Is that so? I feel like we’re trapped in some tiny space.” Ke Xun stared at the sky. Suddenly, a weird feeling overcame him. It felt like something was watching him on the other side of the sky.

The two of them caught up to Mu Yiran while chatting. Mu Yiran had walked very quickly. Although they were on a rugged, mountainous road, it didn’t hinder his speed at all.

After passing a few peaks, they arrived at another open area covered in shattered rock fragments. There was a small brook that snaked down from the top of one of the snowy mountains. Vegetation grew all along its riverbank.

“It’s like a secret paradise here. It doesn’t seem scary at all,” Wei Dong said.

“No?” Ke Xun took in the bright scenery around them. “I feel terrified.”

“How so?”

“The brightness is terrifying,” Ke Xun said, “Don’t you think that everything’s a little too bright?”

“What’s surprising about that? Untainted areas always look brighter,” Wei Dong said. “Besides, we’re in a painting. The scenery might look brighter because the author painted it that way.”

“But compared to the previous painting, there are a lot more indications that betray the fact that we are indeed within a painting,” Ke Xun said, “Even to my untrained eye, I can tell that the painter’s gone overboard. The painter’s made things look way too fake. The sky, the mountains, the brook—even the vegetation looks extremely fake. That’s what I find so terrifying.”

Wei Dong scratched his head. “Your definition of terrifying is pretty unique. I don’t feel that at all.”

While the two of them chatted, Mu Yiran slowed down his pace. He then stopped to examine the vegetation by the brook.

“Your male god seems to like plants,” Wei Dong said.

Ke Xun rubbed his chin. He had just been about to speak up when he noticed a few silhouettes in the distance.

After staring for a few seconds, he realized that it was Qin Ci, Sha Liu and Li Ziling. Behind them were Zhao Dan, Zhou Bin and then the family of three. They were all heading in their direction.

“Looks like they’re planning on following us,” Wei Dong said.

“No, not us. They’re planning on following Mu Yiran.” Ke Xun’s lips curled up. “Outstanding people are chased after everywhere they go.”

By the time Mu Yiran finished examining the plants, Qin Ci and the rest of the group had already made their way over. After greeting them, Qin Ci asked, “Xiao Mu, you’ve been heading in this direction the whole time. Did you find any clues?”

The others stared at Mu Yiran.

Everyone regarded any and all clues as their live-saving straws to clutch onto. They would risk their lives to grab hold of them.

Zhou Bin walked over to glare at Mu Yiran when the latter didn’t respond right away. “I’m telling you, you better not keep things to yourself. Only if everyone works hard together will we be able to leave this place. I believe that you don’t like people like Ma Zhenhua. We don’t like people like him either. You know why. Ma Zhenhua’s too selfish. Selfish people are destined to be abandoned by the group sooner or later. I trust that you don’t want to be abandoned. We’ll be dividing ourselves amongst the tents again tonight. Your decision will influence whether or not you’ll receive our protection. I hope that you’ll think things over clearly.”

Ke Xun laughed when he heard this. “You make it sound like you’re the most selfless one amongst us. Tell me, how did it feel to be the sole possessor of human flesh last night? How did it feel to watch the ‘selfish’ Ma Zhenhua get skinned alive? What, did you see your future in him or do you feel sorry for him because of how similar you two are?”

Zhou Bin seethed when he heard Ke Xun’s words. He threw a punch in Ke Xun’s direction but the latter dodged him easily. Ke Xun then grabbed Zhou Bin’s arm. “Your girlfriend’s here so I’ll leave you some dignity. But there’s something I’d like to say. In the future, be more respectful when talking to others. No one owes you shit. Your threat is useless. The group will only protect capable people, not people who only know how to talk big.”

Zhou Bin’s fury intensified. However, Ke Xun’s grip on his arm prevented him from moving. He knew that he was no match for the other.

Ke Xun let go and Zhou Bin didn’t continue to pester Mu Yiran. He simply glared at Ke Xun with a dark expression before glaring at Mu Yiran as well. Gnashing his teeth, he said, “Fine. I put it too harshly just now. But you get the point. It’s best to share any thoughts or clues out loud. It’s useless to tuck these things away. You can choose to refrain from sharing. However, choosing to refrain from an action can sometimes lead to terrible consequences. If you choose not to save someone in need, that’s the same as being an accomplice to murder, don’t you think?”

Li Ziling nodded subconsciously. The rest of the group kept their silence.

Mu Yiran finally spoke up. His voice was chilly. “I didn’t plan on saying this because what I’ve deduced will not save any lives. Actually, it will likely hurt people. However, since you think that it will benefit you, I’m willing to fulfill your requests. But before I tell you what I’ve come up with, I want to make a disclaimer that everything I am about to say are merely conjectures. I cannot guarantee their truthfulness. I will not take responsibility for your lives. It’s up to you what you decide to do with it.”

“That’s fine.” Zhou Bin sneered. “I accept your disclaimer.”

“You can choose not to listen as well.”

“Let us hear it,” Qin Ci said. “We’ll treat it as food for thought. Everyone can make their own interpretations.”

“Then let’s keep walking. I’ll talk as we walk.” Mu Yiran continued to head north.

Everyone followed after him. Mu Yiran said, “My first conjecture is that the thing that’s choosing victims and killing them every night is a devil worshipped by a certain Sahism denomination.”

Qin Ci nodded. “That’s what I thought as well. That person had us prepare offerings. Furthermore, everyone who participated in the preparation of offerings survived last night. That means that these offerings are useful and that we’re heading in the right direction. Furthermore, if we look at the type of offerings we’ve been tasked to collect—such as human flesh, male essence, the blood of women—they’re all nefarious by nature. This means that the thing we’re collecting offerings for isn’t a god or the Buddha. It’s a ghost or a devil.”

Mu Yiran added, “Sahism consists of several large branches and several smaller branches. Every denomination has its own doctrine and pantheon. I don’t know which denomination’s pantheon this thing belongs to for sure. However, there are records of certain nefarious and bloody offerings that are typically offered to wrathful deities and demonic gods in the scriptures of certain denominations. Perhaps duomu, gala and dangka are one of the things mentioned in the scriptures.”

A flash of understanding befell everyone. Zhou Bin couldn’t help but interrupt. “Even if we know that they are referring to things used in ‘evil’ practices, we have no way of figuring out what exactly they are referring to.”

The patriarch of the Geng Family suddenly chimed in. “I might have something useful with regards to that. I don’t know if it’s correct though. Regarding that eight-armed creature…last year, we went on a family vacation abroad. I’ve seen this creature in a Sahism temple before. I hadn’t been able to recall what its name was until now. But when you mentioned wrathful deities, I suddenly remembered. I think it’s called… Heishitian.”