Chapter 2: The Protagonist Really Is About to Die

The prison the Holy Court had set up on its own was not called a prison, it was called the Silent Chamber. As though a different name could make the iron chains stop chafing and the instruments of torture stop hurting.

In the darkness, Xie Hansheng had forgotten a great many things. His only sense of time lived in the new scales growing at the edges of his wounds.

With each new scale, another day had passed, and he had drawn one step closer to death.

Yet the blow of approaching death was nothing compared to the wounds to his spirit. For the greater part of the time, Xie Hansheng did not even have the heart to think about dying.

Only those who harbored evil in their hearts could be corrupted by darkness.

This was what everything in his past had told Xie Hansheng.

Because you are angry, because you harbor resentment, because you are envious, because you are greedy, because you left a crack for the darkness to enter through, you underwent this transformation and became a monster, and therefore everything you have suffered since is suffering you brought upon yourself.

Fresh blood dripped from a wound that had not yet closed and hit the ground, spattering outward in a burst of paler but equally sharp iron smell.

Xie Hansheng let out a breath and slowly registered that there was more than one unhealed wound on his body.

The prison had administered many injections to him. Perhaps one of them had been designed to delay the healing of wounds. That would explain why, after each experiment, a dedicated team of punishers would arrive.

Under the protocol that had been carried out countless times, anyone who underwent a transformation was supposed to be executed at once. This was both to prevent the situation from escalating and to preserve for them one last shred of dignity as a human being. As a former commander of the Knights, Xie Hansheng had carried out the order himself more than once. He had always assumed that when his own turn came, the outcome would be no different.

Now it seemed he had been wrong.

A holy knight commander who had passed every rigorous trial, whose faith had once been unshakeable, a specimen who had been eroded alive by darkness and still had not completely broken down; something like that was too precious.

Experimental material that was ordinarily impossible to come by had delivered itself to their doorstep. How could they allow him to die easily? Of course they would wring out every last drop of value first.

There was no mirror in the cell. Xie Hansheng did not know exactly what he looked like now.

He had once felt his way across his own forehead and back, trying to determine whether horns or spines had grown, as monsters’ do. What his hands found was only slick blood and the abnormally hard, scale-like protrusions beneath his skin.

This was the second month.

He did not know how many more months there would be.

The fury of the early days had long since been ground down by the prolonged and cyclical experiments and punishments into a dull ache. [Read on RanaTranslations🌸] For the greater part of the time, what occupied his consciousness was a cold bewilderment, gnawing at the remnants of his reason like a venomous snake.

Xie Hansheng did not know what he had done wrong.

He had abided by the teachings, upheld justice, and given his life and his loyalty to the light. He had worked to rid himself of anger, to dissolve resentment, to forgive his enemies…

He had done everything that was asked of him, and yet the darkness had still come for him, had still twisted him.

Why?

In a dawn when he had passed out from pain and come back to consciousness again, Xie Hansheng recalled a fable he had once heard.

A devil was imprisoned in a bottle. In the first hundred years, it promised the one who freed it a mountain of gold. In the next hundred, it promised power instead.

But by the three hundredth year, the mountain of gold was gone, and the power was gone too, and the one who freed it could only receive death.

The devil had been driven mad by its confinement, its soul filled to the brim with rage.

When Xie Hansheng recalled this, he could not help but let out a short laugh. It pulled at the unhealed split at the corner of his mouth, and a fine, dense pain bloomed there.

He thought that he had not yet come to the point of a devil impatient to destroy everything. He simply did not understand.

During a brief interval after one of the experiments, the guards changed shifts.

The young jailer who had just come on duty peered through the bars at this knight commander who had fallen from the heights to the dirt, his eyes holding both fear and an unsettling curiosity, as though looking at a rare beast in a cage.

Xie Hansheng spoke suddenly, his voice hoarse and barely recognizable from thirst and long silence.

“Do you think I am someone who harbors evil?”

The question startled the jailer, who had probably forgotten that Xie Hansheng was still, in some sense, a person who could speak.

He hesitated a moment, then recited the standard answer haltingly.

“The teachings say… that all who undergo transformation must have harbored malice, must have left a weakness.”

Hearing this reply, Xie Hansheng looked at him quietly for a few seconds, then nodded, very slowly, and said nothing more.

Time passed on and the scales kept growing.

……

An unusual sound came from outside the cell door. Xie Hansheng opened his eyes and heard the chains being undone layer by layer.

The new jailer on duty stopped in the doorway and said, “Someone wants to see you.”

“Who wants to see me?” Xie Hansheng asked.

The experiments and punishments were never announced in advance. And to be frank, given how far things had gone, Xie Hansheng did not believe any of his former colleagues would be going to any effort on his behalf.

As far as the outside world was concerned, the once glorious and brilliant knight commander was already dead. What remained in the Silent Chamber was a monster with no rights.

It was probably notice of an execution, Xie Hansheng thought. Notification that he had made his last contribution as a human being and could now go and die.

How very gracious of them.

But even prepared as he was, Xie Hansheng was still not ready for who had come.

When that figure, so utterly out of place in the cell, came to a stop outside the bars, Xie Hansheng blinked in disbelief, wondering if he had already died and hell was now opening its gates for him.

“…”

The devil from hell was wearing a dark uniform, nipped in at the waist, which made his frame look long and lean. The badge on his chest caught the last remaining light in the cell and threw it back. Black hair, black eyes.

In the Holy Court, there was only one person who looked like this, apart from Xie Hansheng himself.

Shan Yiqiu was standing outside the cell door.

After so many years, face to face again. The enforcement officer was still an enforcement officer, neat and composed. The holy knight had sunk into the mire, and even the act of raising his head sent a fresh run of blood rolling from his wounds, wretched beyond all measure.

Xie Hansheng took in the scene before him and felt the irony flooding up his throat.

Silence spread through the stale air. After a moment, Shan Yiqiu spoke first.

“You look like you’re about to die.”

At these words, Xie Hansheng let out a low laugh, and the laugh dragged at his wounds, ragged and laced with gunpowder.

“Your Excellency the Enforcement Officer, I am someone who harbors evil. You had better keep your distance.”

Shan Yiqiu did not respond. He never answered barbed remarks.

Faced with Xie Hansheng’s cold mockery, the only thing he did was step half a pace forward, and then, without any warning, reach out his hand.

It was an exceptionally clean hand, with long, slender knuckles, its complexion clear even in the dim light, a stark contrast against the filthy, blood-soaked surroundings.

His fingertips landed without hesitation on the spot below Xie Hansheng’s collarbone, where rusted iron chains had been driven through, the flesh curled back on either side.

Searing pain shot through him. Xie Hansheng jolted violently and let out a muffled sound.

“You can’t even manage to stand up right now. Killing me would probably be rather difficult.”

Shan Yiqiu said this, but his fingers did not move away. Instead they slid downward along the wound and came to rest on the several newly grown scales nearby.

Those scales were deep and dull in color, yet abnormally smooth and hard, like the shell of some cold-blooded creature. He felt carefully along the hardened surface, then withdrew his hand.

The pain had stolen the words from Xie Hansheng’s mouth. Sweat and blood dripped down together.

He stared at Shan Yiqiu, waiting to see what he would do next.

But Shan Yiqiu did not look at Xie Hansheng again.

“Commander Xie is very hostile toward me,” he said, eyes lowered, addressing the bloodstained floor in a mild voice.

“Is that my imagination?”

Xie Hansheng’s blood had fallen on his hand and showed as a deep, dark color in the dim light of the cell. Shan Yiqiu did not wipe it away, did not even spare it a downward glance.

The scene made Xie Hansheng think involuntarily of a series of photographs that had once been widely circulated by the Holy Court.

In those photographs, Shan Yiqiu had looked just like this as he attended patiently to victims left badly injured after an attack. People had seen the enforcement officer’s gentleness and compassion in those photographs. What Xie Hansheng had perceived, however, was layer upon layer of indifference.

“…You’ll have to understand my position,” Xie Hansheng said, after taking some time to recover.

“I’m a monster now. Monsters are hostile to everyone.”

“Being able to recognize that you are a monster means you can still be saved.” Shan Yiqiu said.

And without waiting for any reaction from Xie Hansheng, he turned and left the cell, his hand still carrying the blood.

……

Footsteps faded in the dim passageway.

Shan Yiqiu looked down at the dark red on his fingertips, drew a pure white handkerchief from his coat pocket, and began to wipe them clean at an unhurried pace.

The bloodstain spread through the fabric like some ill-omened mark.

He had just reached the doorway when a low-ranking attendant caught up with him, respectfully presenting a document stamped with a vivid red seal, and said in a low voice, “Your Excellency, the execution order has been issued. [Read on RanaTranslations🌸] It is set for tomorrow morning.”

Shan Yiqiu took the document. His fingertips passed over the surface of the cold seal.

“I see,” he said.

“Please ask everyone not to act rashly. There may yet be room for this matter to turn around.”

The low-ranking attendant nodded repeatedly, his forehead nearly level with the ground, yet he did not appear cowed in the least. His tone was full of reverent admiration.

“Understood, Your Excellency, please set your mind at ease!”

Shan Yiqiu’s hand paused slightly in its wiping, and he reached over and patted the attendant on the shoulder.

The attendant gave a small shudder, the delight on his face growing more pronounced, and he saw his superior out through the door with the utmost deference.

The carriage stood quietly on the open ground outside the Silent Chamber. The black body of the vehicle had become nearly indistinguishable from the shadows in the deepening dusk. The two horses harnessed to it shifted their hooves uneasily, as though instinctively repelled by whatever emanated from that building.

Inside the carriage, the pale yellow ring of light glimmered faintly to life.

“9653,” Shan Yiqiu said, looking at the execution order in his hands with genuine seriousness.

“Are you truly certain he can stage a comeback from the brink, or make a triumphant return?”

The ring of light flashed twice in quick succession. 9653 was not certain.

It was still very helpless, the situation was simply too cruel for a rookie system. The world had not developed in the expected direction at all.

9653 could gamble that the protagonist would eventually make it out of the prison, but the stakes were too high. If it went wrong, it would become the laughingstock of the entire system space.

Being dead last was a terrifying thing. 9653 believed some of the more powerful systems could weather that kind of blow, but it was too young for that. It would rather be second to last than dead last.

After a brief hesitation, 9653 gave in.

[…Please. I don’t want to be dead last.]

Faced with the system’s plea, Shan Yiqiu did not respond immediately.

He set the execution order to one side, leaned back into the seat, and let his gaze settle on the moving darkness outside the window.

After a long while, the corners of his mouth curved upward, and he let out a quiet breath, as though completing some formidable task.

“All right.”

He answered in a mild voice, the manner of it unhurried and complete.

“I’ll go and save him.”