Hogar de los espíritus

Capítulo 34

The sea surged and roared, stretching all the way to the horizon. High-rise buildings stood on both sides of the bridge, and the coastline stretched out in an irregular, jagged pattern. Ports, islands, cargo ships, seabirds, and lighthouses were scattered haphazardly, yet they exuded a vibrant human atmosphere.

After staring at it for a long time, I still couldn't figure it out. Could it be that the Yin-Yang and Five Elements matrix was set up on the seabed? I wondered. I looked into the distance again, imagining the thin Ah Xiang with bloodshot eyes falling from the bridge into the sea, drifting downstream with the tide, thousands of miles away, or perhaps stranded on some dark reef in the vast seabed before me.

The sea breeze on the bridge was too strong, and standing there for too long, the sun made me dizzy and unsteady on my feet. The fat man urged me to hurry up, saying we were practically being roasted alive.

The fat man and I had only taken two steps, one after the other, when the sun suddenly hid behind a thick layer of clouds, and the surroundings instantly became gloomy. I suddenly sensed something was wrong; the air around me was eerie and rapid, a chilling aura rising up, making my skin crawl. The swirling sea breeze made my scalp tingle, and I suddenly felt as if I were standing in a cloud of mist with no one in front of me, unable to distinguish east from west, feeling dizzy and wanting to wander aimlessly into the surging river below the bridge.

Just then, I felt a sudden warmth in my abdomen. Looking down, I saw that the Sun God Stone in the small bag was faintly emitting a seven-colored light, emanating streams of warmth that flowed into my lungs, making me feel extremely comfortable.

I jolted awake, grabbed the fat man who was about to fall, and pushed him back onto the Golden Gate Bridge pedestrian walkway. The fat man, still seemingly drunk, asked what was wrong, while trying to shake off my hands.

I clung tightly to Fatty, then turned my head and was horrified to see a giant turtle lying in the surging river, its head raised and mouth tilted upwards. Its head resembled a solitary Alcatraz Island, its neck submerged in the water, its limbs paddling, and its enormous body was none other than the city of San Francisco. Fatty and I were standing right on its thrashing tail, as if we would be flung into the dark, emerald-green river in the blink of an eye.

Beside the massive sea turtle's flattened beak, the river surged and swirled, where faint, white, floating figures gathered, resembling the dead. The clamor of grievances soared into the sky, instantly forming a gigantic black tornado.

Just as I was about to get a closer look, the sun pierced through the clouds, casting thousands of golden rays down. The giant tortoise moved its limbs, then suddenly lowered its head, as if it had sunk into the river.

I looked up and saw the sun shining brightly, the sky clear and the air crisp, a breathtaking view of the seaside city all around. We were still standing on the pedestrian walkway in the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge, surrounded by a river of cars, bustling and noisy, their horns blaring softly.

The fat man suddenly woke up and said to me, "Old Hu, I think I just had a nightmare. I dreamt of a scene from six months ago. I saw Ah Xiang's figure drifting around, hanging under the bridge, reaching out to me for help, her voice urgent and pitiful. I was just about to bend down and feel my way through the clouds to save her when you grabbed me."

I glanced at him and understood. This Yin-Yang Five Elements matrix was enormous, covering all the coastal areas of San Francisco, equivalent to setting up such a large array in the surging river. Its hyperspace yin magnetic field had a significant impact on the brains of ordinary people. On cloudy days or at night, it would attract passersby with sorrowful thoughts to jump into the river and die for it, gathering up resentment.

There is no other way at present. To get rid of the vengeful spirit, it is necessary to eliminate the hyperspace magnetic field of the Yin-Yang Five Elements Matrix Formation, cut off the turtle's head and feet, dispel its malevolent energy, and destroy the five acupoints of the matrix. Only then can everything be auspicious and all things go smoothly.

I pulled the fat guy along and said, "Hurry up, I found the Yin Yang Five Elements Matrix. Let's break it! First, contact Shirley Yang and get some handy stuff."

Back in the city, I immediately called Shirley Yang, briefly explaining the situation of the Yin-Yang Five Elements Matrix I had discovered, and asked her to send some necessary tomb raiding equipment. Fatty and I were going to go straight for the heart of the matter, sneak into Devil's Island at night, sever its turtle head, and destroy the central hub formation.

Shirley Yang was also very happy. She said that she was in Silicon Valley and had found out that Professor Chen and Ahai had been missing for the past few months. They were probably being held temporarily by the CIA and were not in any serious danger.

In addition, regarding weapons support, Susa in Thailand has informed the Intelligence Bureau's Special Operations Division and agreed to send two agents from San Francisco to cooperate with us at any time. Providing highly lethal weapons is also a no-brainer, on the condition that we can retrieve the Spirit Gathering Jade, a treasure of the Vajrayana sect that was stolen in Bangkok.

I readily agreed; now I had an ally. I told Shirley Yang to contact the Special Operations Department immediately and prepare military supplies. We'd launch a night raid on Alcatraz and succeed in one fell swoop.

I hung up the phone, looked up at the sky; it was still early. Fatty asked if I wanted to go out for a big meal to satisfy my craving. I scoffed and, in a affected tone, mimicked him, said, "I want braised pork, I want Robert's braised pork—"

I grabbed the fat guy and said to him, "Let's go sightseeing on Devil's Island first."

Volume 3, Yin Yang Five Elements Array, Chapter 67: The Terrifying Devil Island

Fatty and I hitchhiked all the way to the beach, squeezed into the crowd of tourists, boarded a yacht, and swaggered onto Devil's Island.

Alcatraz Island, meaning "cormorant" in the local language, has long been one of the most notorious men's prisons in the United States, holding many infamous criminals throughout history. These include Alson Lyon, the mastermind behind the 1875 chainsaw massacre in Sodari; the Pierre Henry brothers, the notorious serial killers who murdered prostitutes on a suburban New York ranch; and Kim Han-woo, the cult leader of "White Christianity," a cult that fled from South Korea to the United States and was known for his womanizing and lewdness.

Around 1875, over sixty local residents of Soldari, USA, went missing without a trace each year, including men, women, children, and even a five-year-old child named John. This phenomenon spanned nearly a decade, becoming one of the most notorious missing persons cases in the United States. Innocent residents frequently disappeared after spending the night at home or wandering the streets, only to be found by their families the next day, never to return. Even with increased police efforts and manpower, the search proved futile. Old cases would fizzle out while new ones emerged, with another disappearance occurring almost every one or two months. The news and public attention surged, residents fled their homes, and the local community descended into panic. Some enraged relatives of the missing even staged protests, vandalizing and burning down the state government building.

It wasn't until 1875, when five-year-old John the Baptist emerged from a sewer manhole in a busy downtown street after being missing for two days, that people realized the culprit behind nearly a decade of missing persons cases was Allison Lyon, a 56-year-old American man who owned a well-known hippie lounge in the city center. Based on John's testimony after his near-death experience, police arrested Lyon and excavated over sixty sacks of dismembered remains from an abandoned manhole next to the hippie lounge's underground cellar. After a difficult and meticulous process of piecing together and identifying the remains, it was finally confirmed that they belonged to the missing residents of Sordarrie over the past decade.

The truth was now revealed: the bloodthirsty Alson Lyon had worked at the state funeral home before retiring and opening a hippie lounge. However, he was addicted to cremating corpses and would repeatedly go on nighttime rampages in the streets and suburban homes, randomly capturing innocent people and secretly taking them to the cellar under the lounge, which was originally used to store liquor barrels. In the dead of night, he would dismember the kidnapped people alive with a chainsaw, and after satisfying his urges, he would dismember the remains and dump them in a long-abandoned manhole next door. Then, a month or two later, he would find an opportunity to capture the next target, his bloodlust reaching an appalling level.

Ultimately, the Soldier State Tribunal sentenced Elson Lyon to life imprisonment and secretly held in Alcatraz Men’s Jail in the San Francisco area until his natural death.

In the 1970s, a similar series of disappearances occurred in New York City, with over thirty prostitutes from various red-light districts vanishing without a trace. After numerous thorough investigations, police discovered that the disappearances all occurred on rainy nights in the early morning. Later, police secretly followed a female officer disguised as a prostitute, and on a stormy night, tracked her to Peel Ranch in suburban New York, where they apprehended 54-year-old rancher Mr. Peel Henry as he was about to commit his crime.

The following day, police unearthed the scattered skeletons of over thirty missing prostitutes from a thick layer of manure in the pigsty of Peel Farm. Strangely, all the flesh on the skeletons had been removed, its whereabouts unknown. Following this investigation, police had reason to suspect that pork products processed at Peel Farm's well-known slaughterhouse, such as pork buns and pork pizzas, were being sold mixed with large quantities of human flesh. They immediately halted the production of these products and arrested Robert Henry, the 52-year-old partner of Peel Farm and Peel Henry's brother. This injunction caused a public outcry, with many New York City residents vomiting on the spot.

Interrogation revealed that the primary motive for Pierre Henry's crimes was that two years prior, his wife, obsessed with an extramarital affair, abandoned him and their three sons, eloping with another man. This family tragedy led Pierre to harbor a deep hatred for women, which in turn drove him to lure and murder prostitutes in the red-light district on rainy nights, whom he perceived as equally promiscuous. He would then dismember and chop their flesh to feed pigs, or have their unmarried brother, Robert Henry, mix it into the pork for sale, before burying their bones in the stench of farm dung to be trampled upon by pigs, thus venting his hatred.

After the crime, Pierre Henry, known as the "Rainy Night Butcher," was notorious in New York State and was transferred to Alcatraz Men's Prison.

In recent years, Kim Han-woo, a South Korean citizen in his forties, has created a so-called "White Christianity." Based on certain Christian doctrines, he takes them out of context, distorts and spreads heresies, and claims that he is the reincarnation of Jesus Christ, who came to earth to save suffering women, to expel their evil nature, and to help their families ascend to heaven after death.

In reality, this lecherous monster specifically preys on the bodies of his female followers. Using his evil spiritual doctrines, he lures women ranging from seven or eight to eighty years old to offer themselves to him to satisfy his lust. He even rapes and gang-rapes those who resist, causing extremely negative impacts on the community. Through various heinous means, Jin Hanyu has swindled money and sex from his followers, gathering a large group of male followers to act as his henchmen. He owns cars, multiple villas overseas, and constantly preaches his doctrine of being the Son of Jesus—utterly utter nonsense.

Two years later, South Korean police deported Kim Han-woo. Kim then fled to Vietnam, Hong Kong, Japan, and the coastal areas of Guangdong, China, committing crimes thereafter, and was deported from each of these destinations. According to incomplete statistics, in just three years, this sex fiend, cloaked in religious garb, seduced and raped over a thousand women in various locations, and drove more than a dozen female followers to their deaths.

Afterwards, South Korean police finally obtained conclusive evidence of Kim Han-woo's crimes as a "white Christian" and issued red notices to various Asian countries, requesting international police cooperation in the pursuit of the crime boss. Kim Han-woo then fled to the United States, secretly donating a large sum of embezzled funds to request political asylum, which was readily accepted by the US high-ranking officials. Unexpectedly, less than six months later, Kim Han-woo's lustful nature resurfaced, and he raped and abducted several American women to satisfy his lust, even accidentally causing the death of the ex-wife of a Washington congressman, finally drawing international ridicule. The US government had no choice but to swallow its pride and send Kim Han-woo to state court for trial, detaining him without authorization and sending him to Alcatraz Men's Jail in San Francisco, where he served his sentence.

In addition, Alcatraz also houses a large number of political prisoners and international criminals. Because the death penalty has been abolished, serious offenders here are all sentenced to life imprisonment. It is said that the longest-serving prisoner to date is a Mexican terrorist criminal, now 111 years old, who has served a full 80 years in prison.

Of course, setting aside the men's prison, first-time visitors to Devil's Island can still appreciate its exotic charm. The island's edges are lined with towering cliffs, and the ancient black reefs are home to various wild birds such as pelicans, black-crowned night herons, and western gulls, creating a magnificent pristine natural landscape. The island is lush with trees, the air is fresh, and the ecology is serene; it would make a charming seaside summer resort.

Under the blazing sun, Fatty and I strolled through the crowd of tourists. Finally, we bought two more boat tickets and took a yacht around the entire Devil's Island, getting a complete and clear view of the tortoise head of this Yin-Yang Five Elements formation.

As the sun set, we returned to downtown San Francisco with the tourists. Soon after, Fatty and I received a call from Shirley Yang, informing us that at exactly 8:30 p.m., two Thai agents would be on a yacht near Fisherman's Wharf, carrying a large amount of spare supplies, ready to depart. The code word for their meeting was, "I want to eat braised pork."

Because Shirley Yang was being monitored by several CIA agents and couldn't meet up, she told us to hurry to Fisherman's Wharf to investigate Alcatraz at night. I hung up the phone, glanced at my watch—damn, it was only 7:60 PM! I quickly called Fatty, jumped into a taxi, and sped off to Fisherman's Wharf.

As night fell, the lights of Fisherman's Wharf cast shimmering golden reflections on the water. We ran onto the wharf and peered out, only to be stunned. Beyond the countless masts and sailboats of all sizes, there were a hundred or so yachts of various colors moored along the dock. Which one was the right one? I regretted not asking Shirley Yang what the connecting yacht looked like. What were we going to do?

The fat man suggested searching one yacht at a time, like felling a tree to catch a crow—a fool has his own foolish methods, and this is the most direct and effective way.

I laughed and said, "Okay, you go ask first." Every time you board a yacht, you have to ask in Chinese, "Do you want to eat braised pork?" Even if they don't call the police, they'll kick you out like an idiot.

The fat man was stunned upon hearing this, and muttered to himself, "This Thai guy is really funny. Of all the passwords, why did he have to say 'I want to eat braised pork'?"

Just as we were gazing helplessly at the seaside in frustration, we heard a series of scattered footsteps behind us. Fatty and I turned around and saw a burly white sailor staggering towards us, drunk. Beside him was a tall, beautiful, Asian woman, dressed in a flamboyant manner, supporting him as she carried a delicate handbag, her weight causing her to sway. This Asian beauty had large eyes and a round face, and wore a very short leather skirt and a crop top, revealing a large expanse of her white belly as she moved.

The fat guy's eyes were glued to the woman's white thighs, drool dripping from his mouth. His Adam's apple bobbed incessantly, as if he wanted to pounce on her and take a bite like he was gnawing on a roasted chicken leg. "What a pathetic loser," I muttered, slapping him on the back of the head. "Stop causing trouble, focus on important business."

The fat man turned his head away sheepishly, gave me a guilty smile, sat back down next to me, and pretended to be intently watching the ships, but his mind was already wandering off to Java.

Unexpectedly, the two of them walked behind us, and the white crewman stumbled and fell onto the fat man's back. Suddenly, he vomited all over the fat man's neck, reeking of alcohol, and the filth flowed down the fat man's plaid shirt collar, covering him completely.

I quickly covered my nose and ran away. The fat man was furious. He shoved the white crew member off his back, scrambled to his feet, and raised his fist to punch him, but then he couldn't help but gag from the nausea. He turned around and sprinted a hundred meters, jumping directly into the sea at the dock.

The beautiful woman hurriedly pulled up the white crew member, ran over incoherently, bowed deeply to me, and whispered, "Excuse me, would you like some braised pork?"

I was stunned for a moment, not understanding what was going on. This was supposed to be an apology, how did it turn into a secret code, "Do you want to eat braised pork?"

The beautiful woman asked me twice before I finally realized and said repeatedly, "Yes, yes, we all want to eat braised pork."

The white crew member staggered to my side, looked at me with a clear head and wide eyes, and said in a low voice, "No, no, I want to eat braised pork."

I continued, "Yes, I want to eat braised pork."

The white crew member grabbed the beautiful woman, put an arm around her shoulder, and said to me, "Come with us," before turning around and walking off the dock, pretending to be drunk.

I waited for the fat man to climb ashore, soaking wet, and before he could speak, I whispered, "Quick, go with them. They are the Thai agents who will be our contact."

The fat man followed me, and we caught up with the man and woman. After many twists and turns, we jumped onto a yacht moored in the shadows at the bank of a small river.

The yacht started moving, and the white crewman steered the boat away from the shore, silently heading out to sea.

The tall, beautiful woman tossed the fat man a set of clean clothes to change into, then turned to us with a smile, saying, "Hello, Mr. Hu Bayi and Mr. Wang Kaixuan. Allow me to introduce ourselves. We are resident agents of the Thai Intelligence Bureau's overseas branch, based in the United States. My name is Marilyn Monroe, and his is Spall Jordan. We are here on orders from our Thai headquarters to assist you with your 'Breaking the Formation' plan, and we are about to infiltrate Devil's Island."

Fatty and I were dumbfounded. We didn't realize that this slender beauty could be a high-level agent. Could it be a honey trap in a human missile operation?

Marilyn Monroe didn't stand on ceremony. She pulled a large leather suitcase from a corner of the hold, opened it, and wow! It was full of everything from small-caliber pistols to submachine guns to grenades to flares, with gleaming yellow bullet clips scattered all over the floor. She opened another long, narrow suitcase, and wow! It contained a large-caliber shoulder-fired rocket launcher—a powerful weapon capable of shooting down even airplanes.

Other items such as gas masks, diving suits, entrenching tools, wolf-eye flashlights, climbing ropes, and first-aid supplies were packed in two other large bags, ensuring comprehensive coverage and being prepared for any eventuality.

Fatty and I were overjoyed, examining the book with obvious delight. Then, looking up, we asked, trying to make conversation, "Isn't Susa coming?" Seriously, that was more pointless than asking a question.

Under Spear Jordan's helmsmanship, the yacht quickly reached the outskirts of Alcatraz. I directed him to head closer to the jagged cliffs. During the day, I was horrified to discover a massive underwater whirlpool near the turtle's mouth, where the seawater was churning, throwing large amounts of algae and microorganisms to the surface only to be swallowed up again.

I even suspect that the bodies of those who committed suicide on the Golden Gate Bridge over the years have been swept up from underwater by the tides and gathered at the bottom of the whirlpool, forming a tremendous aura of resentment. This aura of resentment is intricately linked to the deathly miasma that has lingered in the men's prison on Alcatraz for many years, forming an extremely dangerous chasm that envelops Alcatraz and turns it into a place of great misfortune.

Right now, we need to avoid the vortex at the heart of the cave, land on the other side of Alcatraz, find the central hub of the Yin-Yang Five Elements Array that the CIA has set up on the island, and destroy its turtle head, turning this giant landform turtle into a headless dead turtle. The power of the array will then be reduced to the minimum and unable to be exerted.

We packed our gear and, fully armed, crept onto Alcatraz. I observed the starry sky and, based on the principle of inverted constellations, determined that the core of the formation should be located beneath the men's prison. It seemed the entrance must also be inside the prison, which presented a significant challenge.

After hearing my words, Fatty, Marilyn Monroe, and Spal Jordan were also in a dilemma. This "Breakthrough" operation was highly confidential; we couldn't just force our way into the men's prison, could we?

Just then, the stars dimmed, night fell, and a thick fog descended. The weather changed too quickly. I did some quick calculations and realized something was wrong. Tonight was the first night of the new moon, which is the first day of the lunar month. The moon was dim, a very inauspicious time, and it was also the time when the Yin-Yang Five Elements Matrix Formation would activate once a month.

I looked back and saw nothing beyond three steps. Thick fog, like black ink, shrouded Devil's Island in a heavy veil, completely blocking out the view. I couldn't see the stars above or the sea below. This Devil's Island had been transformed into an extremely ominous graveyard, a time when evil spirits roamed freely.

It was too late to retreat at that point. I quickly crouched down on the cliff and secretly instructed the three of them not to act rashly, and that it was most important to guard the guiding light of their souls.

The three of them, including the fat man, stared wide-eyed into the distance, their faces filled with terror.

In the thick fog, a blue aurora suddenly appeared in the darkness above the men's prison. Its core was as large as a cartwheel, its light as bright as day, piercing through layers of clouds and shining down on the prison like a blue sun. The light also spun rapidly in place, like an aurora nebula, elusive and unpredictable. Oh no! This was the condensed evil energy at the core of the Yin-Yang Five Elements Array, a malevolent force soaring to the heavens and earth. While absorbing the essence of nature, it also released a massive amount of malevolent energy, turning any person or animal that touched it into a zombie. Once this evil energy circulated for forty-nine years, it would inevitably reverse the geographical feng shui, and theoretically, it could indeed control all living beings on Earth through the power of a hyperspace magnetic field, allowing the United States to dominate the world. However, at that time, the true world dominators would probably not be the living, nor government officials, but a group of half-human, half-demon beings.

As the large ball of blue aurora swirled, suddenly, staggering figures emerged from the prison and the bushes, moving like zombies, bumping into each other, screaming, and tearing at the living. In the light, their faces were vacant, their skin pale, like corpses that had been frozen in a hospital morgue for three years come back to life, their mouths crooked and eyes slanted, desperately seeking fresh flesh and blood to fill their bellies. Any live birds or beasts that fell to the ground were snatched up and torn apart; they were truly a group of ferocious, monstrous creatures that ate flesh without spitting out bones.

Marilyn Monroe and Spall Jordan turned pale with fright and asked the fat man and me what this was.

I said coldly, "Living zombie."

So-called living zombies are distinct from true zombies. These living zombies originate from living people being corrupted by evil spirits. Over time, they become half-human, half-corpse. They are still somewhat harmless during the day, but after midnight, they enter a state of delirium, their consciousness clouded. They crave raw meat and fresh blood; otherwise, they will die before dawn due to lack of blood, becoming true zombies. Strictly speaking, their cellular molecules have mutated and are on the verge of death, making them not much different from real corpses. Becoming a zombie is only a matter of time.

I told Fatty and the others, "Whatever you do, don't let them bite your bodies. They'll spread the virus and turn you into one of them too. Hit their vital spots, hit their heads, and they'll fall to the ground and die."

Just then, Marilyn Monroe suddenly screamed, brandishing a submachine gun and charging out. We naively thought this beautiful woman was quite brave, about to lead the charge to kill the living zombies before the coach could even finish speaking.

She suddenly pointed behind us and screamed. We turned around at the sound and, oh my god, a large group of corpses crawled up from the sea and were already pounced on us. They were all wet and looked like dead catfish, with their rotten, lifeless eyes staring as they crawled toward us.

It turns out that Marilyn Monroe was molested on the buttocks by a tall, black corpse that reached out its long arm from behind.

Volume 3, Yin Yang Five Elements Array, Chapter 68: City of Zombies

This is truly like falling into a zombie abyss.

We yelled and scrambled off the cliff, running to Marilyn Monroe's side. The zombies all around us growled, "Those who can, go now; those who can't, create the conditions!" and surrounded us.

Fortunately, most of the living zombies came from the men's prison. Once they reached the outside of the walls, they were blocked by the tall and sturdy barbed wire fence and could not rush over for a while.

I called to Marilyn Monroe and Fatty to run quickly to the outside of the barbed wire fence. Fatty led the way, using submachine guns and grenades to fiercely attack the ever-increasing horde of living zombies inside. I led Spall Jordan to cover the rear, intercepting the dead water ghosts crawling up from the sea below the cliff.

Spall Jordan and I, armed with submachine guns, retreated while shooting at the water monsters. I instructed him to try to hit their necks to sever their heads, so they wouldn't fall.

But that was too wasteful of bullets. Spall took out two gleaming Japanese samurai swords from his backpack and gave me one. Spall and I exchanged a smile, shouted "One, two, three," and charged forward together, wielding our swords, slashing left and right, cutting through like melons and vegetables, severing arms and legs, chopping off heads, and slaughtering our way through, leaving a trail of corpses in our wake.

Not daring to venture too far, Spal and I retreated behind the fat man and the others to protect them, continuing to slash at the corpses and water ghosts that were surging up from the sea.

The fat man was even busier, wildly throwing grenades at the horde of living zombies. With a deafening roar, a large number of zombies were blown away, some even hanging on the high barbed wire fence, while others had their severed limbs and feet fall around us, a disgusting mess of blood.

Marilyn Monroe, holding a submachine gun, swept back and forth along the barbed wire, leaving behind a trail of mutilated corpses. These corpses, dragging their bloodied entrails or upper bodies, struggled to crawl on the ground, reaching out their mangled hands through the barbed wire, howling, trying to grab the living people so close to them and take a bite to satisfy their urges.

As I was killing, I suddenly stopped. I saw a swaying, staggering corpse, a water ghost, coming towards me. She was thin, with one arm, dressed in white, with long hair and a pale face. It was Ah Xiang, who had committed suicide by jumping into the sea six months ago. She stared straight at me and staggered towards me, a single tear of blood still faintly visible in her eye socket.

I couldn't bring myself to do it any longer. I helplessly lowered my katana and just stared blankly as she walked towards me. I wanted to turn around and call out to Fatty, to let him see the long-lost Ah Xiang, but I couldn't bear to let this cruel reality break down the rough but affectionate Fatty. So I kept my mouth shut and watched the water ghost Ah Xiang walk up without saying a word.

Ah Xiang lunged at me, weakly grabbing my chest with one hand, pulling me closer, and biting my neck. I was about to close my eyes when Spall Jordan beside me shouted and forcefully pushed me away, saying in a deep voice, "What are you doing, Mr. Hu Bayi?"

With a swift movement, he twisted his waist and raised his sword, the sharp blade gleaming coldly, and with a single, effortless motion, severed the head of the water ghost, Ah Xiang.

I saw Ah Xiang's head fall to the ground, roll a few times, and then her body collapsed with a thud, immediately trampled over by the subsequent water ghost corpses. I could no longer contain my grief and anger. I roared repeatedly, wielding my knife as if it were nothing, hacking and slashing wildly, treating the corpses and water ghosts scattered on the ground as if they were the hateful, ugly Robert, and hacking them to pieces to vent my hatred.

The open space was piled high with corpses and dismembered bodies, turning it into a massive drying ground for the dead. I told the three of them to throw high-powered grenades in quick succession, wiping out the living zombies inside the wire mesh. Then, we bypassed the mountain of corpses and barbed wire and crept into the men's prison.

The blue aurora silently spun and shone overhead. The closer we got, the colder we felt, as if it were absorbing our warmth from afar. Our souls wavered, wanting to escape our bodies. This was no place to linger. I quickly called to Fatty and the others, urging them to stay focused, concentrate, and move forward quickly to finish this quickly.

The four of us sporadically fired at the approaching zombies as we made our way into the prison. After rounding stone walls and guard towers, we came to the prison's high courtyard. On either side of the courtyard stood tall cell blocks and guards' offices.

I waved for everyone to rush into the three-story prison guard office building. That made things a little better, and my heart wasn't so pounding anymore.