Chapter 143: Existence In A Pool Of Blood
“Bang——Bang——Bang——”
The metal door gradually bent under the impact sounds, the darkness in the corridor like thick ink melting into clear water, slowly seeping into the room.
Although the door had not completely collapsed, there was already a wide gap between it and the door frame, completely rotten remains extending from the gap, flailing wildly.
Scratches of various sizes appeared on the walls and door panel, the screeching noisy sounds making one’s head spin.
Even though this was a room inside the ghost ship, it was still somewhat strained facing this monster synthesized from two fierce ghosts, the entire room would sooner or later completely fall, it was just a matter of time.
The fierce ghost’s face with rotting features was already pressed up to the door crack, seemingly measuring the distance of the door crack to see if it could pass through.
“Screech——”
The twisted metal emitted bursts of wails, the door propped up into a terrifying arc by the rotten limbs.
The entire door was completely distorted, even the door lock damaged, but the top and bottom still connected slightly to the door frame, not fully opened.
But this was already enough.
Accompanied by groans of unintelligible meaning, that rotten human face slowly moved forward, crossing over the door, directly extending into the room.
The width of the door crack was still insufficient for the fierce ghost to pass through completely, its body stuck outside the door, but its neck kept elongating, like a stick thrusting its head forward nonstop.
Seemingly sensing the breath of a living person, a few drops of pitch black liquid slid from the fierce ghost’s mouth like saliva, smashing onto the carpet, leaving a black stain of moderate size.
Compared to a stain, this spot was more like a pitch black hole, connecting to some unknown space.
Unknown shadows writhed rapidly in the darkness, finally bursting out of the hole, suddenly slapping onto the floor of the room.
“Slap——”
A scarlet arm drilled out from the black stain, flesh and blood blurred, looking no different from the remains behind the door.
The rotten palm lifted, the floor already stained with a pitch black palm print, and in an instant, another arm drilled out from the palm print.
A normal person seeing this scene would definitely run away fast, or at least find a place to hide.
But the weakly breathing Zhang Qian had no way to react, he who had lost consciousness lay on the floor, like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered without any resistance.
Retreating two steps as far as possible before fainting was already the biggest action he could manage at the time.
The remains gathered more and more on the floor, they had no eyes, yet followed the head’s movements, groping continuously toward Zhang Qian’s position.
The ground was like a patch of scarlet grass, every arm excitedly slapping the carpet, as if impatient to turn the prey before them into one of their own.
But the next instant, all the remains’ movements suddenly paused, then like losing their target, they lay on the ground motionless.
The rotten human head slowly retreated, followed by the limbs in the door crack withdrawing into the corridor.
After a long time, the old room once again recovered silence.
A thick bloody smell suddenly emerged, drifting everywhere, overpowering the musty odor of moldy furniture, filling the entire space.
On the floor.
A pool of scarlet blood for some reason was not absorbed by the carpet, instead gathering together, forming a small pool of blood.
A youth lay motionless in the pool of blood, eyes tightly closed, seemingly fallen into a deep sleep.
Shifting the line of sight down, one could see a ferocious terrifying wound at his waist, spanning front to back, nearly piercing through the entire body.
But though this wound looked scary, it only had a patch of blurred skin, without a drop of blood seeping out.
Perhaps the youth’s blood had long since flowed dry, leaving only this empty husk now.
Stagnant breathing, a heart no longer beating, from a medical perspective, this ghost controller named Zhang Qian was now dead.
Even the fierce ghost had no interest in him.
Being on the ghost ship, no one would come to collect his corpse, the entire corpse might rot away unnoticed, turning into a yellowed skeleton.
Unknown how much time passed.
“Splash.”
A crisp footsteps sound rang out, the deathly silence in the room broken, the pool of blood under Zhang Qian suddenly rippling in circles, as if some invisible person had stepped into the blood.
Through the mirror image on the blood’s surface, one could see a blurry reflection, the dim yellow chandelier, the moldy bed… most indistinguishable from the real room.
Strangely, that room had no sign of Zhang Qian’s supine corpse, in the position where the corpse should be, there was a figure whose face could not be seen, standing with hands at sides.
This figure should be the thing that just made the footsteps sound, but now it was motionless, seemingly fallen into silence, or pondering what to do next.
However, this situation didn’t last long, the figure in the reflection suddenly moved again.
It stiffly lifted its right foot, stomping heavily onto the ground.
“Splash.”
A splash of blood erupted on the blood pool’s surface, blood flying outward, yet dissipating into nothing, leaving no other traces in the room.
Pausing for a moment.
The figure once again lifted its left foot, stepping onto the ground.
A moderate splash erupted, compared to the first time, this one’s force was clearly much weaker.
With left and right feet alternating continuously, the figure’s movements were no longer jerky, the interval time between each step gradually shortening.
If someone else were watching, they could tell at a glance that this unknown whether human or ghost thing was learning to walk.
Though at the start the figure’s movements were very stiff, as time passed, its walking posture was becoming more and more natural, looking more and more like a “person”.
One step, another step.
Its form became increasingly solid, the reflection in the blood pool also becoming clearer.
But that service pistol at the waist and the jacket on the body looked exactly like Zhang Qian’s.
Or rather, this figure was Zhang Qian’s duplicate, the only difference being that the figure’s face was covered by a ferocious mask, covering the entire face, no features visible.
Not long after, the figure’s movements became even lighter, its posture gradually softening, looking no different from a real person, or rather the real Zhang Qian.
At this moment it had arrived at the edge of the blood pool, only one step away from stepping into the world beyond the blood pool.
As for what came after, whether completely transforming from ghost to human, or detaching from Zhang Qian’s corpse to exist independently, everything was still unknown, no one could predict.
The figure did not feel excited, or rather it originally had no such emotions now, facing the change it still mechanically lifted its left foot, stepping toward the unseen place in the reflection.
