Chapter 593: Carnival of Desire [25]

The corridor beyond the side gate was darker than the areas they had passed through before. Industrial lamps hung sparsely overhead, casting a feeble yellow glow that flickered as though it were about to die at any moment. Along both walls, metal pipes twisted together like tangled intestines, their surfaces slick with moisture and gleaming blackly in the dim light.

The procession of workers marched on at a steady pace, their metal feet and stuffed paws striking the metal floor with a rhythm that was unnervingly precise.

Clunk... clunk... clunk...

Lulu covered its face with both hands, leaving only its button eyes exposed. Through the gaps between its fingers, it watched the mascot workers around them. They marched like puppets, not a single one turning its head or showing the slightest hint of curiosity.

"Adrian..." Lulu whispered, its voice barely audible over the deafening machinery. "What... what are we supposed to do? Are we... are we going to catch the real people?"

Adrian didn't turn around.

"I don't have time to go looking for them. Isn't it easier to just let these guys lead us there?"

Lulu fell silent for a moment, trying to make sense of what he meant.

...

The corridor ended at an even larger gate.

Unlike the others, this one was made of thick black steel, its surface covered in scratches and dried, dark-red stains. Above it, a red warning light blinked at a slow, steady rhythm, casting shifting flashes of crimson across the faces of the workers.

The Pig Foreman stepped forward and swung his chain whip against the gate three times.

CLUNK! CLUNK! CLUNK!

The gate slowly swung open with a long, grating screech, like the cry of some wounded creature.

And beyond it lay another vast space.

An arena.

The floor was paved with gray stone slabs, riddled with cracks and stained with dark brown streaks. Towering walls surrounded the entire area, with iron cages and coils of barbed wire winding along their tops. The space was large enough to hold hundreds of people.

And standing in the middle of that arena were two figures.

Nick.

He was leaning against a stone wall, a short blade clutched in each hand, their tips pointed forward. But his hands were trembling.

His entire body was trembling.

His cloak had been reduced to tatters, exposing scratches across his skin. In several places, his flesh had begun to turn an eerie, opaque white—the candy transformation had already begun, but it was not yet complete.

His eyes were bloodshot, deep dark circles hollowing out the skin beneath them.

He was exhausted.

But he was still standing.

A few meters away, Ember stood upright, both hands gripping an iron rod, his amber eyes as sharp as blades. Yet even he could no longer maintain his usual composure. Strange, vivid red streaks ran across his skin—not wounds, but the corruption creeping its way through his body. He had been using his own flames to burn away whatever had latched onto his flesh, but it was still eating away at him from within.

At least twenty corrupted mascots stood in a circle around them, spears and nets in hand. They did not advance, but neither did they retreat.

They were waiting.

Waiting until the two of them were completely exhausted.

[EMBER! NICK! THEY'RE BOTH STILL ALIVE!]

[They look terrible! Nick's about to collapse!]

[Ember still looks like he has some strength left, but... there are just too many of them!]

[Don't worry, my two little darlings. Adrian's finally here!]

Lulu saw them too.

"Adrian!" Lulu whispered. "Is that... are those your friends? They're surrounded!"

"Yes," Adrian replied, his voice still calm. "They're surrounded."

Before Lulu could say anything else, Adrian spoke again.

"From now on, don't make a sound. Hide somewhere safe. This will all be over soon..."

Once I catch him.

Adrian left those final words unspoken.

All Lulu could do was stare helplessly as Adrian walked farther away. The workers surged forward almost immediately, forcing the timid little dog backward in the rush.

On the other side, the Pig Foreman stepped into the center of the arena, raising his chain whip with a sharp crack.

"Fresh ingredients!" it bellowed, its metallic voice echoing throughout the arena. "A special batch! Both of them still have strength. Still have fight in them! The finest ingredients of all—no processing required. Just offer them directly to Him!"

The corrupted mascots around them let out a deafening roar in unison, taking another step toward Ember and Nick with spears and nets in hand.

Nick gritted his teeth. He tried to raise his short blades, but his hands were trembling so violently that the tips of the blades wavered uselessly in the air.

"Nick." Ember's voice came low and hoarse. "Stay behind me."

Nick couldn't help but feel a little surprised, but he said nothing. Instead, he simply remained where he was.

Ember frowned and stepped forward, his amber eyes suddenly blazing. Flames of red and orange began to erupt from his body, but they were weaker than before. They were no longer as brilliant and ferocious as they had been in the Museum of Petrification. The corruption had eaten away at him from within, leaving his flames feeble.

The Pig Foreman let out a harsh, metallic cackle, like metal scraping against stone.

"Fire! Impressive!" It lashed its chain whip through the air. "But how much do you have left to burn? Your body is rotting from the inside. Haven't you noticed?"

Ember gave no answer. He only tightened his grip on the iron rod.

"Dozens of workers!" the Pig Foreman ordered. "Take them down! Dead or alive, it doesn't matter! Just make sure the ingredients remain intact!"

The workers surged forward like a massive wave.

Corrupted mascots charged from every direction, spears and nets sweeping through the sickly yellow light of the industrial lamps. Ember burned one, then two, then three—but every time his flames erupted, his body trembled more violently, and the red streaks across his skin spread farther.

Nick tried to support him from behind. His darkness could no longer devour anything, and the short blades in his hands could only manage feeble swings. Then one of the mascots struck him hard across the back.

Nick crashed onto the floor, his blades flying out of reach. He gasped for breath, no longer strong enough to get back on his feet.

"Come on, come on! Hahaha!" the Pig Foreman roared. "Everyone, charge!"

Dozens of corrupted mascots rushed toward Ember.

They outnumbered him. They were faster.

And Ember no longer had enough strength to burn them all.

He gritted his teeth.

Flames of red and orange began to surge from his body—stronger, more ferocious, but also more chaotic. He could no longer control them.

The corruption had burrowed too deeply into his body, and now his own flames were turning against him.

"If you really want to die..." Ember snarled, his voice filled with murderous intent. "Then I'll show you what real fire is!"

He was about to unleash everything—a final attack that would burn everything in its path, enemies and himself alike.

But at that very moment, a tremendous force suddenly bound both him and Nick!

The two of them were abruptly tied together so tightly that they couldn't move even an inch.

Thud!

The sound of both bodies hitting the ground rang loudly throughout the arena.

It wasn't just Nick and Ember who were stunned. The other workers also froze in shock.

The Pig Foreman stared at the bright golden chain wrapped tightly around the fresh ingredients before it.

Then it saw the worker with the enormous panda head staring straight at it, his adorable mask unchanged.

He looked at the Pig Foreman and spoke calmly.

"I told you, didn't I? I'm an elite worker."

Almost the instant those words reached his ears, Ember coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood and lost consciousness.