Chapter 46: The Man Who Cannot Be Killed

Is it a shaman?

Shanglu pondered for a moment and decided it was unlikely. If it were a shaman, he would have been discovered already and sternly questioned for his presence here. But if it wasn't a shaman, then who could it be?

A passerby who had accidentally wandered into the strange mist? But why hadn't he been attacked by the monstrous snakes? Or a survivor from the mountains? No, that couldn't be it—San Niang had clearly said there were no survivors within this fog.

Could it be some kind of humanoid monster?

After considering for a while, Shanglu decided to step forward and take a closer look. He had come here to hunt evil spirits. If he turned and fled the moment he saw something unknown, what meaning would there be in risking his life to enter the strange mist? More importantly, the mysterious figure ahead stood right in the path dusted with realgar powder—there was no way to avoid or bypass it.

"Let me see what you are exactly!"

Resolute, Shanglu no longer hesitated and strode quickly toward the bizarre figure shrouded in thick mist.

Soon, the distance between Shanglu and the figure shrank to just over ten paces. He could finally see the figure's appearance clearly.

It wasn't a monstrous creature, but a human—dressed in a constable's uniform. He was squatting on the ground, his ox-tail saber tossed to the side, rummaging through the dirt with both hands and stuffing things into his mouth—he was actually eating.

What he was picking up and eating were the very same monstrous snakes that Shanglu had just killed with his breath. After their deaths, the snakes' flesh and blood had rotted into a foul, stinking mess. San Niang hadn't bothered to collect them, which meant they weren't edible. But this man showed no disgust, devouring them madly as if he'd been starving for ages.

Sensing someone approaching, the man looked up at Shanglu.

"Jiao Er?"

Even though his mouth was smeared with blood, Shanglu recognized him at once and called out his name.

This Jiao Er was none other than one of the constables who had accompanied Shi Fan and Chu Xing to Yunhua Mountain the previous night. Shanglu hadn’t expected him to have ventured into the mist and ended up in such a ravenous state.

What on earth had happened to him?

"Why are you here? Where are Shi Fan and Chu Xing? Didn’t they warn you about the dangers in the mist, not to enter lightly?" Shanglu asked, but didn’t approach, squinting as he studied Jiao Er.

His instincts told him something was wrong with Jiao Er.

"They didn't say anything, just told us to come in and investigate... Do you have any food or water? I'm so hungry, so thirsty."

Jiao Er grabbed his saber and stood up, crying out about his hunger and thirst as he walked toward Shanglu.

"I have nothing to eat," Shanglu replied, but he had already noticed something odd about Jiao Er. The man’s body was completely unscathed, apart from the blood from the monstrous snakes—there wasn’t a single wound or trace of blood.

Anywhere else, that would be normal. But here, in the strange mist, it was impossible Jiao Er hadn’t encountered even a single monster snake. Even if he knew the method to kill them with breath, why was he so desperately hungry and thirsty? He had only arrived at Yunhua Mountain last night; it was impossible for him to be so ravenous in just one night.

More crucially, Shanglu had seen Jiao Er’s eyes. They were like those of a hungry ghost—devoid of any excitement or joy at seeing a familiar face, only filled with boundless desire!

The desire to devour Shanglu!

Jiao Er licked his lips, finding Shanglu unbearably tempting.

"You're lying! You do have something to eat! Your blood, your flesh—they’re all food! I'm hungry, I'm thirsty... Let me eat you, let me eat you!"

Roaring, Jiao Er lunged at Shanglu, his expression twisted and crazed, truly resembling an evil spirit.

Shanglu wasn’t frightened. As Jiao Er charged close, Shanglu raised his ox-tail saber with his left hand, knocking Jiao Er's weapon away with the scabbard. Then, grabbing the hilt with his right, he drew the blade with a ringing sound, a flash of cold light cutting toward Jiao Er.

Shanglu's strike was forceful and swift.

Jiao Er had no time to dodge and was sliced in two at the waist.

Yet not a drop of blood flowed from Jiao Er’s body. Shanglu also noticed that Jiao Er was hollow inside—his internal organs were all gone, leaving only an empty shell!

Even in this grotesque state, Jiao Er was not "dead"—he still moved. Even after being cleaved in half, he reached for Shanglu, his eyes still wild and greedy, his mouth still shouting, "So hungry! So thirsty! Give me something to eat! Let me eat you!"

At his waist, where he’d been cut, strange fleshy tendrils began to writhe, seeking to merge the two halves of his body, just like the monstrous snakes when severed.

Clearly, Jiao Er was not only dead, he had become an evil spirit.

"Damn it, what’s with the evil spirits in this mist? Are none of them truly killable?"

The monster snakes could be killed by outmatching them in height. But for Jiao Er, transformed into this hollow monstrosity, what could be done?

Shanglu tried shouting, “I’m taller than you,” but it was useless—Jiao Er ignored him, intent only on devouring him.

He keeps shouting about hunger… Could that be the key? Maybe he needs to be satiated? Shanglu thought.

He didn’t have any food on him—and he certainly wasn’t going to offer himself as a meal. He wasn’t that foolish.

As Jiao Er’s upper half crawled toward him, Shanglu kicked him far away, then, following the trail of realgar powder, sprinted toward the edge of the mist.

Since Jiao Er couldn’t be destroyed, there was no point entangling with him here. Once a shaman discovered him, they would know how to deal with him.

Seeing Shanglu flee, Jiao Er desperately tried to give chase. But split in two, his merging and crawling were both too slow—he couldn’t possibly catch up. All he could do was howl furiously at Shanglu’s back: “I’m so hungry, so thirsty… Why won’t you let me eat you?”

“Eat, my foot! You don’t even have a stomach or intestines—what’s the use of eating anything?” Shanglu shouted back without turning.

“No stomach? Eating is useless? No wonder I’m so hungry…”

Jiao Er, stunned by Shanglu’s words, lowered his head and groped around in his empty abdomen. Other than the monstrous snake flesh he’d just swallowed, he found nothing at all.

Sobbing, he wailed in despair, “There really is no stomach… No wonder I’m always hungry, no matter what I eat…”

The fleshy tendrils at his waist stopped writhing and began to wither and fall away. Jiao Er ceased his howling and movement, and just like that—unable to feed himself—he died of despair and hunger.

“Hm?”

Hearing the commotion, Shanglu paused and turned back, only to see Jiao Er’s flesh and skin rapidly shriveling up. In just a few breaths, he had become a dried corpse.

The monster snakes that liked to compete in height could be killed by outmatching them. As for the hollowed-out, ravenous dead like Jiao Er, once they realized they could never be sated, they would also perish in despair.

The evil spirits within the mist, as bizarre and sinister as they were, seemed to follow certain rules. Was this the influence of the secret realm, or something else entirely?

Shanglu was deeply curious.

Examining Jiao Er’s corpse, Shanglu found that although his internal organs had been hollowed out, aside from the cut at his waist, there was not a single other wound on his body.

Jiao Er hadn’t been killed by the monster snakes. So what had hollowed out his insides? And how had it been done?