Chapter 234.2: The Old Geezer’s Kindness Could Never Be Repaid Part 2

Ji Jue sank into thought. Before long, he looked up at the phantom beside him. “Where’s the old geezer? I want to see him!”

After a moment of pondering, the phantom pointed toward a door behind him. The door swung open, revealing a corridor.

“Thanks.” Ji Jue turned his wheelchair around and slowly made his way down the corridor, leaving the wreckage behind him untouched.

The entire workshop seemed to be constantly shifting. Even the space behind the same door was different every time he looked. Sometimes this corridor led to the materials storehouse, sometimes to the makeshift bed where Ji Jue slept, and sometimes to the latrine. Now, it had become the passage to Jian Yuan’s workroom.

No matter how many times Ji Jue passed through it, he could still feel the gazes watching him from the darkness. It was as though his every movement lay exposed before countless unseen eyes.

Click.

Not far away, a door slowly swung shut. A hunched figure with his head bowed and his body bent in deference respectfully closed the door for his teacher, flashing an ingratiating smile. When he turned and saw Ji Jue nearby, that smile froze. His face darkened, twisting into a vicious scowl. Scarlet veins spread across his eyes as he gritted his teeth.

“You...”

“Well, well. Fancy running into you here. Isn’t that right, Cun Ling?” Ji Jue glanced at his hunched, wretched appearance, then at the puppet fused into the flesh of his shoulder. He clicked his tongue in amazement. “It’s only been a few days. How did you end up looking this pathetic?”

Bang!

The corrupted craftsman’s face turned livid. He kicked Ji Jue’s wheelchair over, grabbed him by the throat, hauled him off the floor, and slammed him against the wall. His fingers tightened around Ji Jue’s neck like iron pincers.

“Listen carefully, you piece of shit. I don’t care how you managed to deceive our teacher. Your good days won’t last much longer!” Cun Ling leaned in close, glaring hard at Ji Jue as he delivered each word with deliberate emphasis. “One day, you’ll fall into my hands. And when that happens, we’ll settle our score!”

Ji Jue opened his mouth but couldn’t breathe. Darkness rapidly closed in around his vision.

After enjoying the sight of Ji Jue struggling, Cun Ling’s fingers loosened slightly. He heard Ji Jue’s hoarse coughing and ragged gasps and mocked him with laughter.

Ji Jue panted, baring his teeth in a grin. “Come on, buddy. You should take your grievance to the person responsible. I’m not the one who reduced you to this. You ought to think about who actually did this to you, don’t you agree? Since you’ve got such a backbone, why not turn around, kick that door down, and stab the old man to death? You could repay your teacher’s kindness and avenge what happened to you at the same time.”

Cun Ling’s expression twitched. As he fought back an instinctive shudder, he exploded in rage. “Say one more word and I’ll tear you limb from limb!”

“Really?” Ji Jue looked genuinely curious. “I feel like I can still say quite a few more words. You, on the other hand, might not be able to. In fact, you may not have much longer.”

As Ji Jue spoke with mock pity, the hand clamped around his throat gradually lost its strength, trembling uncontrollably before finally letting go.

Ji Jue dropped to the floor. Bracing himself against the wall and floor, he hauled himself upright and set his wheelchair back on its wheels. After a tremendous struggle, he finally managed to climb into it, drenched in sweat and panting heavily.

Meanwhile, Cun Ling was rolling and thrashing across the floor. He could barely draw breath, foam spilling from his mouth as he lay on the verge of death. His body spasmed and convulsed, all his struggles futile. No matter what he did, he couldn’t push away the two hands clamped around his throat. The puppet growing from the flesh on his back had seized his neck without warning, its fingers rapidly tightening.

Thick blood seeped from the torn cracks in his skin, but before it could spill out, the puppet’s hands greedily drank it in. The creature wasn’t just attacking Cun Ling’s body. Half of the flesh, matrix, blessing, and soul within him had suddenly turned feral and launched a savage assault, ravenous to devour him completely. No matter how desperately he tried to pacify it, there was no response. He couldn’t breathe; he was freezing, and no matter how hard he struggled, it was useless.

Wild laughter rang in his ears, growing clearer by the second. As Cun Ling rolled across the floor, he saw the young man in the wheelchair smiling at him, his pitch-black eyes looking down at him without emotion. At that moment, he seemed to understand everything.

Cun Ling’s eyes widened in terror. Scrambling forward on all fours, he clutched at Ji Jue’s trouser leg and opened his mouth to beg, but no sound came out. All he could do was kowtow as though in prayer, smashing his forehead against the floor again and again until blood streamed down his face. Muffled wails escaped his throat.

In spite of the show, Ji Jue remained expressionless, not reacting in the slightest. Only when Cun Ling fell into utter despair and no longer had the strength to struggle did Ji Jue drum a finger against the armrest of his wheelchair.

At once, the puppet’s hands loosened slightly around Cun Ling’s throat. Cold air flooded his lungs—breathing had never felt so good.

Cun Ling broke into violent coughs, spitting out thick, bloody foam as tears and mucus streamed down his face. He could no longer move.

“You see,” Ji Jue said, “once two people have gone through the same thing, they begin to understand each other’s difficulties.”

Through the haze, Cun Ling saw the wheelchair roll past him as Ji Jue’s voice drifted down from above. “We’d better get along from now on, Cun Ling.”

Slowly, Ji Jue rolled right over him. Before leaving, he even high-fived the puppet growing from Cun Ling’s back. “Bye, bro!”

The puppet grinned viciously and waved with great enthusiasm as it watched him leave. After Ji Jue disappeared at the far end of the corridor, the puppet turned back toward its dying host, malice gleaming in its gemlike eyes.

The game continued!

***

A door opened before Ji Jue. Inside the workroom, countless components hovered in midair. Tens of thousands of them rose and fell like birds in flight, constantly assembling and separating around the elderly figure at their center.

“What was all that noise?” Jian Yuan asked without turning around.

“Just the seniors giving the rookie a warm welcome, I guess.” Ji Jue smiled as though he genuinely believed Jian Yuan knew nothing about what had happened. “The workplace culture among us craftsmen of the Depths really is wonderful. Everyone gets along, looks out for one another, and works together toward a brighter future. Don’t you think there might be something slightly wrong here?

“The Ember Path is cruel and shows no compassion for the mediocre. The brutality of the Putrefaction is greater still. You are rivals from the beginning, so why waste time on meaningless pretenses? The essence of a craftsman’s path is to reveal the true nature of things in the clearest possible form. If you prefer living in dreams, you should seek out Mirror or Heart Core.”

Jian Yuan flicked his fingers, causing the massive construct formed from numerous parts before him to scatter and come apart once more. After a long while, he turned around and asked indifferently, “What do you want?”

“Here. All finished.”

Ji Jue opened the toolbox built into his armrest, pulled out the aberrant creation fresh from the furnace, and hurled it straight at Jian Yuan. It tore through the air with a sharp swish as a streak of silver stopped abruptly in front of the old man, revealing its form.

It had a long, slender handle and a short, slightly broader head, bringing its total length to roughly that of an ordinary one-handed sword. The handle was straight, while the tip curved slightly and split into several claw-like prongs. Scarlet light flowed endlessly across its surface. The mere sight of it radiated such viciousness that it sent a chill through the heart. Yet the longer Jian Yuan examined it, the deeper his frown became.

“What is this supposed to be?”

“A gift,” Ji Jue explained considerately, “I’ve noticed you’ve been grimacing a lot lately. I figured your feet must be itching, but scratching them in front of other people would be rather embarrassing, so I specially made you a backscratcher!”

Jian Yuan’s expression darkened further. “What does it do?”

“What else would a backscratcher do? It scratches itches, of course. Master Craftsman, don’t be fooled by its ordinary appearance. There’s one thing it’s especially good at—” He paused dramatically, drawing out the suspense for as long as he could. “The more you scratch, the itchier it gets!”