In this moment, Jiang Luo felt his head pounding.
He cursed inwardly, slicing at the webbing in secret with a knife, eyes never blinking as he tracked the spider-human’s every move, every nerve consumed by a howling sense of danger.
Coming back from the dead—impossible. No matter how strong, a person only has one life. Instinct told Jiang Luo that this spider-human had become Chi You’s puppet.
—Or maybe Chi You had possessed him.
Either way, it was f*cking awful.
Chi You was a thousand times more dangerous than spider-human. Just a month ago, Jiang Luo had finished tormenting Chi You. And now, one month later, the tables had turned—he was in Chi You’s hands.
Jiang Luo couldn’t hold back another curse: “f*ck.”
His hands worked faster and faster. The spider-human slowly crawled in his direction. Its eight legs were covered in black-and-yellow striped bristles—gruesome to look at—but it moved with a strange kind of grace.
Each of its steps was like treading a tightrope strung with blades, pressing a mortal dread into those who watched, forcing them to stare death in the face.
Off to the side, Qi Ye muttered, “It’s alive? How is it alive? Wasn’t it dead? How is it alive again?”
Jiang Luo thought to himself, Humans really are just walking tape recorders.
He didn’t have time to dwell on Qi Ye’s pointless questions. Jiang Luo struggled against the webbing holding him, cold sweat breaking out at his temples.
The blood dripping from the spider-human fell onto the web and slowly pulled down long, sticky threads. Just before the spider-human reached him, Jiang Luo managed to free his right arm. But just as he was about to push himself up, a new strand of webbing dropped from above, slamming him back down.
Jiang Luo: “……”
His eyes blazed with fury as he glared at spider-human.
He could practically imagine the sick thoughts in Chi You’s head. Chi You must have noticed Jiang Luo’s attempt to escape but deliberately let it play out, letting him feel hope—just to crush it completely at the last moment.
That was exactly the kind of thing Chi You would do.
Under Jiang Luo’s furious stare, spider-human reached out with a bloody hand and touched his face. The stench of blood was rank and sticky. Jiang Luo turned his face aside with effort, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle curved beneath his skin.
The bluish blood was smeared deliberately across his face and neck. The young man with dark hair tried to avoid it, but the more he dodged, the more forceful that stinking hand became. In the end, Jiang Luo simply gave up, face dark and stormy, staring straight at spider-human and letting it do as it pleased.
He had figured out why the ghost was using the spider-human—
It was purely to disgust him.
Qi Ye shouted beside him, “Spider-human! If you’ve got guts, come for me instead!”
A thread of web dropped down, wrapping Qi Ye up tightly like a silkworm cocoon.
Jiang Luo was stunned.
He stared at the spider-human, feeling as though Chi You—who had been seriously wounded by him just a month ago—had recovered at alarming speed. Why did it feel like death hadn’t weakened Chi You at all, but instead broken some sort of shackle, letting his power grow even more?
More and more blood. Jiang Luo’s clean, handsome face and neck were now covered in streaks of bluish fluid, like paint on a canvas. His lips were pressed tight. spider-human’s gaze dropped to his mouth, a flicker of interest surfacing in its pitch-black eyes.
Sh*t.
Jiang Luo could almost guess what Chi You was going to do next.
He struck first. Before the spider-human’s finger could reach his lips, Jiang Luo opened his mouth wide and bit down—hard—tearing off one of its fingers.
Disgusting. The taste of the blood was absolutely foul—worse than the school cafeteria.
Suppressing his nausea, Jiang Luo gave spider-human a mocking smile, then spat out the finger and blue blood to the side.
The spider-human stared at him.
That look reminded Jiang Luo of the sensation of being watched earlier. He let out a cold laugh. “Your blood reeks. It’s disgusting.”
But the spider-human didn’t get angry. Instead, it brushed past Jiang Luo’s lips and, with a sinister smile, said, “You’d make a perfect nest for my eggs.”
Its voice was horrible—harsh, shrill, like a crow speaking through a crushed throat.
A grotesque spider-monster and a beautiful young man—this strange scene was unbelievable, disturbing, and yet held a kind of grotesque beauty.
Jiang Luo’s face darkened.
The spider-human’s hand slid down to Jiang Luo’s stomach. It hummed a tune softly, but under its raspy voice, the melody became jagged and grotesque.
With pleasure, it said, “My eggs… will enter your body one by one.”
“Only a few will survive. The lucky ones will grow here… and here.” spider-human used its long middle finger to draw a circle on Jiang Luo’s lower abdomen, then slowly moved upward. “Until they eat all your organs… and burst out of your belly.”
“That sight will be beautiful,” it said. “Don’t you think?”
Jiang Luo suddenly smiled. “How exactly do you plan to put the eggs into my body?”
The spider-human replied carelessly, “Of course—by slicing open your flesh and placing them inside.”
“But I think that method is far too boring,” Jiang Luo said in a low voice, as if sharing a dark, tempting secret. “Do you want to know another way to put eggs inside me?”
The spider-human looked at him with interest. “What way?”
Jiang Luo said, “First, you need to let me go from this d*mn spiderweb.”
The spider-human stared at him for a while, as if it had guessed what Jiang Luo was planning. It gave a mocking smile, but still reached out and sliced through the sticky webs behind Jiang Luo’s back.
Jiang Luo barely managed to sit up. There were still webs clinging to his chest and arms, binding him tightly. He said, “My method is…”
The last few words were carried off lightly by the wind.
The spider-human: “Hmm?”
It leaned in slightly.
But in the next second, Jiang Luo, whose hands were still bound, suddenly burst into motion. He lunged forward and rammed into the spider-human, dragging the creature down with him through the hole in the web he had originally tried to escape through.
The spider-human slammed heavily onto the ground, and Jiang Luo landed right on top of it. Straddling the spider-human’s chest, Jiang Luo shot it a mocking smile, stood up, and stomped on it hard. “Go to h*ll, you b*stard.”
As soon as he finished swearing, he turned and bolted toward the direction of the drone.
Jiang Luo ran fast—almost faster than he ever had in his life. He didn’t stop for a second, slashing away the webs on him with the knife. But he had only taken a few steps when he heard the wind whipping behind him.
He turned his head—the spider-human was zipping between the trees, swinging on its threads. In just one flash, it had closed several meters of distance.
The drone. The drone.
A sharp sound of wind cutting the air passed by his ear. Instinctively, Jiang Luo dove and rolled—straight into a patch of mud. By the time he struggled out, he had once again lost his bearings in the Bagua formation.
Identical trees and streams surrounded him. The drone was nowhere in sight. Jiang Luo tore the remaining webs off with force, and when he glanced behind him, he saw the spider-human crouched on a tree branch, smiling down at him.
In the pitch-black night, the spider-human looked almost horrifying. Jiang Luo curled his lip and suddenly dove into the stream.
The forest was the spider-human’s domain. Its eight legs and spider silk gave it the upper hand—Jiang Luo couldn’t win here.
No—even if he won, the thing might just “come back from the dead” again.
Jiang Luo swam rapidly in the water. His lean, lanky figure—normally a bit on the thin side—was now his greatest advantage.
The black-haired youth shot through the current like a fish. Not long after he dived in, another splash sounded behind him.
Jiang Luo looked back. The night was murky, and visibility in the water was low, but he could still make out a black shape chasing him relentlessly.
Jiang Luo grinned and intentionally swam toward a section of the river filled with turbulent currents and jagged rocks. After who knows how long, he finally found the perfect spot. He twisted his body and slipped lightly through a crevice where two boulders were jammed together. The spider-human tried to follow, managing to squeeze its upper body through—but its massive spider legs got stuck in the gap.
Jiang Luo swam back from behind the rocks. While he still had one breath left, he savagely plunged his dagger into the spider-human’s body. A gush of blue-green blood spilled out, staining the river water.
When he was nearly out of oxygen, Jiang Luo finally surfaced.
His black hair, soaked with water, clung to the back of his head. He exhaled, mist curling from his breath. Even in May, the late night in Yunnan was cold like deep autumn.
He slowly swam to the shore. Once his feet touched the riverbed, he dragged his soaked body toward land.
The moonlight was bright. Just as Jiang Luo was about to step onto the bank, a pair of black leather shoes suddenly appeared in front of him.
He froze and lifted his water-drenched face.
In the moonlight, Chi You’s extraordinarily handsome face carried a faint aura of malevolence. His long brows slanted into his temples, and even in the dark his features seemed to glow faintly. Dappled moonlight filtered through the trees, casting fragmented shadows on him. Compared to the puppet he had just controlled, it was a stark contrast—like heaven and earth apart.
The malicious ghost stood there in a tailored suit, perfectly composed.
“We meet again,” the malicious ghost said. “Midnight, deep night. The night’s still long.”
He paused, raised a brow, and chuckled softly. “I hope I can give you… a delightful night.”
