Walking the World

行走世间

walking-the-world

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 1

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 2

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 3

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 4

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 5

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 6

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 7

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 8

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 9

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 10

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 11

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 12

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 13

The main quest had finally updated. Bu Jianhan was so moved he could have cried.



 In his experience, once the story&#x27;s trajectory became clear, the appearance of an open-ended final objective like &quot;Escape from Such-and-Such Place&quot; or &quot;Survive Until Such-and-Such Time&quot; usually meant the boss fight—and the end of the game—was close at hand.



 All he had to do was clear this last hurdle, and he could finally leave this godforsaken place!



 Once he got out, he was going to bury the developers&#x27; inboxes in complaint letters!



 With survival finally in sight, Bu Jianhan felt strength return even to his arms. He began ransacking the study with renewed enthusiasm, from top to bottom.



 Of every area in this instance, the study was not only large but contained the most interactive objects. Even its modeling was far more elaborate than elsewhere. The ladder in the corner, the desk and lamp, every bookcase—even every individual book on those shelves—could be picked up and used.



 It was as though the production team had poured its entire budget into this room.



 Bu Jianhan had every reason to believe that his missing head and body were somewhere in here too.



 But the sheer number of interactive objects left him without a clear lead. After finally combing through every inch of the study, the only usable item he found was a spare battery.



 Then, when he approached the window, he discovered that it, too, was interactive. And...



 [Friendly reminder: You need a crowbar.]



 There it was. At last!



 In a horror game, the holy sword of physics might arrive late, but it never failed to appear!



 Bu Jianhan had turned the study upside down without finding a crowbar. His eyes went to the Rooster key in his inventory.



 One minute later, Bu Jianhan stood outside the last room at the end of the corridor.



 He unlocked the door with the Rooster key and stepped into the final room.



 A thick, rank stench assaulted him inside. It smelled like a corpse left to rot in a cellar for years, like gallons of blood congealed into old scabs, like excrement left to ferment—all cut through with the acrid reek of chemical reagents.



 Bu Jianhan raised his flashlight.



 It was a torture chamber.



 A rocking chair had been bolted to the floor and modified into something resembling a dentist&#x27;s chair, its crevices caked with dark brown blood. On the instrument table beside it lay scalpels and all manner of delicate metal tools. Beneath the table stood large jars of preservative chemicals and liquid mercury. Blood spattered all four walls, streaming down the seams only to congeal before it reached the floor. Broad stains of reddish brown and greasy yellow had seeped across the floorboards.



 Legend had it that the old dynasty practiced a cruel form of execution known as Unfurling Butterfly Wings. The executioner would begin by cutting down the spine from behind, splitting the skin of the back in two. Mercury would then be poured into the seams between skin, fat, and muscle, allowing the victim&#x27;s hide to be peeled off whole.



 Once separated from the muscle, the skin was thin and translucent when lifted with a blade. The two flaps on the back spread apart along the incision like a butterfly opening its wings, giving the punishment its beautiful name.



 For an instant, phantom screams rang in Bu Jianhan&#x27;s ears—the cries of restless spirits wandering here, reliving the torment they had suffered in life.



 He entered the torture chamber. The floor beneath his feet was damp and sticky, making wet, slapping sounds as though he were treading through blood on the verge of drying.



 The crowbar lay in a corner and was not hard to find. Coagulated blood clung to it alongside patches of rust, and it felt exceptionally heavy in his hand.



 [Item acquired: Crowbar ×1.]



 Crowbar in hand, Bu Jianhan returned to the study.



 The window was jammed tight, as if rain had seeped into its hinges and rusted them shut, leaving only the tiniest gap along the bottom. Bu Jianhan wedged the crowbar inside and strained with nearly every ounce of strength he had before he finally pried it open.



 Fresh, free air rushed against his face and flooded the study, scouring away the villa&#x27;s foul stench and stagnant yin energy.



 Directly below the window was the awning over the outdoor stairs. Because of the study&#x27;s position, the awning sat roughly halfway between the window and the ground.



 All Bu Jianhan had to do was climb out, drop onto the awning, then use it to break his fall to the ground, and he would reach the front garden. One climb over the garden wall, and he could leave this damned villa behind and escape with his life.



 But he did not jump.



 He turned back into the study and began moving the bookcase and ladder.



 He braced the wooden ladder against the bookcase at an angle, wedging the makeshift structure across the study door. Then he pulled armfuls of books off the shelves, tore out their pages, crumpled them loose, and scattered them over the floor. Taking the gasoline from his inventory, he poured half of it over the bookcase and loose pages near the entrance. Then he carefully cracked the door open and balanced the half-full can above it.



 Next, he tore the power cord from the desk lamp, tied one end around a leg of the wooden ladder, and kept the other end in his hand. Finally, he replaced his phone&#x27;s battery with the fresh spare.



 He could indeed have walked away right now.



 But he could not bear to turn a blind eye, knowing that friends who had helped him had been tortured and murdered. Nor could he forget watching the Lin couple die for hiding him. He still remembered the promise he had made to Lin Four in the studio: he would avenge all seven brothers and grant every innocent spirit trapped here the deliverance they deserved.



 Besides, he would never forgive—or get over—the humiliation of being scared witless by a pervert and a ghost at the same time, the indignity he had suffered in that wardrobe because of one lousy key hidden in a toilet, or the terror of spending an entire night under the tyranny of ten keys!



 The flames of vengeance roared within him. His nearly empty lighter and the holy sword of physics filled him with boundless courage and strength.



 Bu Jianhan charged to the window, raised his middle finger at the pitch-black night outside, and shouted his challenge: &quot;I&#x27;m right here! Look at me, you bastard!&quot;



 Something in the darkened garden seemed to whip around. A pair of huge, unnervingly bright eyes fixed on Bu Jianhan without blinking.



 Bu Jianhan roared, &quot;Come 1v1 me! Winner gets to be Daddy!&quot;



 Come at me, bitch!



 The time for the final battle had arrived!



 The monster in the garden moved.



 It rushed toward the outdoor stairs. At the rapid slap-slap-slap of its footsteps, Bu Jianhan could almost see the Skinner racing up them at superhuman speed. It tore into the corridor and reached the study door in the blink of an eye.



 Bu Jianhan lunged back to the center of the study and snatched up the lamp cord he had prepared on the floor.



 One second later, the Skinner smashed through the door!



 With a crash, the gasoline can balanced above the doorway toppled over. The remaining half can drenched the Skinner, and the heavy container struck it hard enough to make it reel.



 Bu Jianhan seized the moment and yanked the lamp cord. The wooden ladder tipped sideways and went flying, crashing to the floor. Deprived of its support, the bookcase thundered down after it, slamming lengthwise against the floor and sealing the entrance to the study!



 Neither of them had a way out now.



 As the bookcase collapsed, the books it held came cascading down like an avalanche, burying the Skinner in an instant. The relentless barrage knocked it to the floor, leaving its lower body submerged beneath gasoline-soaked books. Its hands clawed wildly at the air as it bellowed in fury.



 Bu Jianhan flung aside the lamp cord, swapped it for the lighter in his inventory, and snapped open its lid!



 ...The lighter spat out two sparks.



 No wonder it was described as almost out of fuel. The damned thing would not light at all!



 Cold sweat broke out across Bu Jianhan&#x27;s skin.



 He flicked it twice more. Sparks kept flying, but no flame appeared. In the time the lighter cost him, the Skinner had already struggled free of the mountain of books. Clutching a tool hammer, it dragged its mangled, bloody body to its feet!



 Of course the boss fight was not going to be that easy—



 There was no time to try the lighter again. Holding his phone aloft in his left hand, Bu Jianhan swapped the lighter in his right for the crowbar from his inventory, readying himself to face the Skinner!



 Phase one of the boss fight began. Armed with the tool hammer, the Skinner charged Bu Jianhan again and again, trying to bludgeon him with it. The hammer dealt massive damage. Even a glancing blow made Bu Jianhan&#x27;s vision flash red and filled his ears with the buzzing alarm of a near-death warning.



 Bu Jianhan had to keep dodging the Skinner&#x27;s attacks, staying as close as possible so he could slip around behind it as he evaded and seize the chance to strike back with the crowbar.



 He noticed that because he had broken the Skinner&#x27;s left collarbone with the hammer during the earlier chase, every strike to its left shoulder made it scream and slowed its movements considerably. Once he spotted the pattern, he relentlessly targeted that shoulder, each swing more vicious than the last.



 After seven or eight blows, the agony and the injury to its left shoulder finally drove the Skinner into a mindless rage. It let out a deafening roar, released the tool hammer, and sent it hurtling straight into Bu Jianhan&#x27;s right arm!



 &quot;Ah!&quot;



 Bu Jianhan cried out in pain. After striking his arm, the tool hammer flew out the window—but the impact also knocked the crowbar from his hand.



 It hit the wooden floor with a metallic clatter, rolled forward twice, and landed in a puddle of gasoline.



 If he went to retrieve it now, he was bound to get gasoline on himself. Once he set the study ablaze, he too would be doomed to die in the flames.



 He had no weapon left. All he could do was run!



 Using the momentum from the hammer&#x27;s impact, Bu Jianhan quickly opened some distance between them. The Skinner snatched up several thick-spined hardcovers and hurled them at him. As Bu Jianhan dodged, he heard it roar in unbridled fury.



 &quot;Why are you running? Why don&#x27;t you love me? Why would you hurt me? Was I not good enough? What else could you possibly be unhappy with?!&quot;



 &quot;I can do so many things for you! I can even become whatever you like! Please stay here with me, all right?&quot;



 &quot;Don&#x27;t even think about escaping! I want you to love me—you have to love me! All of you have to love me!&quot;



 Phase two of the boss fight had begun.

Scenario One: Painted Skin — 11

SilentQuill