Chapter Twelve: How Should We Proceed with This Delightful Torment?
A girl in the forest wore a cool and playful little dress.
With her cute ponytail, she sauntered over to Young Master Sang.
“Hey, isn’t that Young Master Sang?”
“I heard you were missing. Everyone’s been looking for you.”
“Turns out, just as everyone guessed.”
“You’ve fallen into the Demon Cultivators, huh?”
Looking at the girl’s sly and playful smile, Sang couldn’t help but shiver as memories of some unpleasant times flooded back.
…Si Jingzhu.
The current Sect Leader’s daughter of the Water Moon Sect.
Also, the most unruly little demon of the Water Moon Sect.
Moreover, she was the one who rallied a group of senior brothers and sisters to bully him back in the day.
Actually, when he first entered the sect, Sang wasn’t well-liked either.
But his usual background character style meant he didn’t earn enemies; he was quite unnoticeable.
Until one day, he accidentally bumped into this ponytailed little demon around a corner.
From that day on.
His nightmare began.
Si Jingzhu didn’t know if she was holding a grudge or something else.
She seemed particularly fond of him, especially enthusiastic about bullying him.
Every other day she’d bring people to cause trouble for him, always taunting him in that annoying, arrogant tone.
In Sang’s past world, girls like her, with an angelic appearance yet a devilish heart, had a special term.
Little Demoness.
Si Jingzhu fit any impression he had of that title perfectly.
And the most fatal part of being bullied by her wasn’t just that.
The most deadly aspect was that because of her status as the Sect Leader’s daughter.
Other disciples avoided him like he was the plague.
They feared that if they spoke to him, they’d be targeted by Si Jingzhu and her little gang.
Even in the end, the group that framed him and led him to the wilderness were all her ardent followers.
She seemed to be his nemesis.
“You know what?”
“After hearing you went missing, I was worried for a long time.”
She feigned a sigh, “So sad! What if the little waste back then really left me?”
“But now that I see you’re still that same little waste with just basic cultivation.”
“I feel relieved.”
Sang could only silently endure Si Jingzhu’s mockery.
In the Demon Cultivators, working from nine to five was already exhausting enough.
Who had time to practice?
Basic cultivation was enough, just like how you wouldn’t use calculus to shop at a market.
What’s the point of having higher cultivation when you’re interrogating a bunch of tightly bound powerless fairies?
“Hey! I thought after you fell into the Demon Cultivators, you’d have some progress.”
“How come after all this time, you’re still just a lowly prison guard?”
Si Jingzhu squinted and laughed, a mocking yet playful grin on her face: “What a waste.”
“Did you think leaving the sect would lead to success?”
“Stop dreaming.”
“Trash is trash, no matter where you go~”
“You’re about to die by my hand now, excited?”
Before she could finish her sentence.
Zhang Xiaoying had already shielded Sang, a dagger gleaming coldly in her hand, much like her icy beautiful eyes.
“Oh, what a loyal little maid you are.”
Seeing Zhang Xiaoying, Si Jingzhu’s eyes narrowed in evident displeasure.
“So obedient, you must have brainwashed her into falling to the demon side, right?”
“What woman would like a trash like you~”
Zhang Xiaoying surprisingly didn’t react to her provocation.
She just coldly stared at them, her beautiful eyes seemingly racing through ways to save Sang.
“Master, I’ll hold them off for a moment.”
“You must seize the chance to escape,” she whispered to Sang.
Sang was grateful to his maid, who remembered him even in such a life-or-death situation.
But he just asked the system.
The system said his chance of survival was only a tiny fraction.
Si Jingzhu was already at late Nascent Soul stage, plus she was the Sect Leader’s daughter; who knew how many trump cards she had.
This time, even the heavens couldn’t save him.
Sang sighed and finally asked in his heart:
“System, what’s that percent of zero point zero something you mentioned…”
【0.076%.】
“Yeah, that number. Where does this 0.076% come from?”
【From whether the host activates the Warden’s Mask.】
Sang: “Huh?”
Wait.
Why does it suddenly tell me about a powerful cheat-like name at a time like this?
Why didn’t you mention this sooner?
Sometimes, Sang really wanted to curse that lousy system’s mother.
It really nailed the art of slacking off. If you don’t ask, I won’t tell.
Even if you ambiguously ask, I’m too lazy to answer.
After all this time with the system, he never once heard about this ability.
“Speak plainly.”
【Activating the Warden’s Mask will consume host points, ten points per second.】
【Wearing the Warden’s Mask will grant the host some abilities.】
【But the abilities each person gets are different; the host has never activated the mask, so the system lacks data. Based on inaccurate predictions, the host’s chance of gaining an ability to solve this situation is 0.076%.】
Random…
So that means the ability he gets is uncertain.
But it seemed he had no other choice now.
Just gamble everything on this lousy system.
If he died, he’d go to the system’s grave and steal its offerings like crazy.
Sang slowly raised his eyes, his gaze gradually growing cold.
“System, activate the Warden’s Mask.”
Then, a cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
【Warden’s Mask has been activated.】
——
——
In front of Sang, Zhang Xiaoying had thought hard for a long time.
In the end, she could only come to a somewhat despairing conclusion.
…She couldn’t save Sang from the attack of these two.
Even if she risked her life, it wouldn’t work.
But if she self-destructed her Nascent Soul, she might buy some time.
What if? What if the Master could escape to the mountain and just ran into the head of the Punishment Department descending…
Zhang Xiaoying could only pin everything on that fantasy.
She bit her red lips deeply, forcing a sad smile.
“Master.”
“In the next life, I’ll still be willing to be your maid—”
As her words finished, she prepared to rush forward to self-destruct her Nascent Soul.
Suddenly, a hand gently pressed on her shoulder from behind.
“Xiaoying.” Zhang Xiaoying heard Sang’s gentle voice.
In bewilderment, she turned to see Sang’s calm smile.
“…Close your eyes.”
Zhang Xiaoying didn’t think too much and instinctively closed her eyes.
She never hesitated to follow Sang’s words.
Not even if it meant asking her to die.
Once Zhang Xiaoying closed her eyes, Sang raised his head to glance at Si Jingzhu and Shi Qingyan not far away.
“Alas.”
“Does this overtime work… come with overtime pay?” He slowly raised his hand, holding up a mask.
As he slowly put the mask on, he snapped his fingers.
At the moment his fingers snapped, the sky darkened.
To be precise.
All the light around vanished.
Zhang Xiaoying, Si Jingzhu, and Shi Qingyan were all enveloped by an infinite, silent darkness.
The first to feel it was Shi Qingyan.
She suddenly felt as if a chilling breeze had swept over her.
Goosebumps erupted all over.
It felt like her vision had been stripped away in an instant.
Not just her sight.
Hearing, smell… all senses appeared to vanish.
She couldn’t feel her spiritual power, her cultivation, or even anything about her body.
It felt like she was swallowed by this dark void.
What on earth?! She looked around in confusion.
But nothing was there.
She had never seen such a strange technique.
No matter how powerful the technique, it should be driven by spiritual energy. It shouldn’t leave her with zero resistance.
Yet at this moment, in this endless darkness.
She had no power to resist.
Like a little bunny with zero fighting capabilities.
Next to her, Si Jingzhu narrowed her eyes slightly.
But her reaction was different.
Compared to Shi Qingyan’s panic, she seemed less afraid. She just waited quietly.
In fact, she looked a bit expectant of what Sang would do next.
While Shi Qingyan was still frantically searching for a ray of light like a startled bird.
Suddenly, a glimmer flickered in front of her.
A dark green ghostlight, like a candle flame yet appearing eerie.
Moments later, Shi Qingyan finally made it clear.
That was a lantern.
The lantern was chained, and its other end was tied to a cold, shining scythe.
And sitting on a stone, holding the lantern, was a masked figure.
A green-faced, fanged mask, resembling a malevolent ghost.
For some reason, upon seeing that mask, a surge of fear rose in Shi Qingyan’s heart.
A fear that surged from her very soul.
It felt like she couldn’t muster any courage or thoughts of resistance in front of this mask.
Only a desire to flee with all her might.
That feeling even made her feel a warmth in her lower abdomen, as if her entire body was rejecting this sensation.
“What… what is this?”
The masked figure said nothing.
Instead, he slowly stood up.
At that moment, Shi Qingyan’s terror surged to its peak.
She instinctively turned around, wanting desperately to run away.
Yet in this darkness, it felt like she was merely treading water.
In the profound silence, the only thing Shi Qingyan could clearly hear was the increasingly closer sound of chains dragging on the ground behind her.
“Don’t… don’t! Don’t come closer!”
She suddenly shouted in panic.
Yet she couldn’t even hear her own echo.
The sound of chains scratching got nearer, behind her a voice eerily reminiscent of a demon whispered as if emerging from the depths of hell:
“How shall we proceed… with this delightful torment?”
