Divine Fortune and Misfortune, Determine Life and Death.
Lin Yang, as if facing a formidable enemy, pulled a tortoise-shell compass from the bag he always carried with him.
This was a secret technique passed down in the Lin family, and also one of the key reasons they had risen to become a prestigious household.
To divine fortune and misfortune, determine life and death.
The compass needle, which represented misfortune, was aimed directly at the main entrance.
Lin Yang gave a low shout to the man who was about to open the door. “If you don’t want to die—don’t move!”
The man’s hand trembled and quickly pulled back, but the door had already opened a crack, and the sounds from outside seeped in.
“This batch of livestock is pretty decent.”
“Just in time to offer to the new master.”
“This new lord arrived and immediately defeated the previous owner of the slaughterhouse. He’ll definitely lead our slaughterhouse to dominate the world! Soon, all of humanity will be our livestock!”
The fervent voices grew closer, filled with fanatic excitement and an eerie tone, as if they belonged to the staff working here.
No one dared approach the door. They didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly, afraid those outside might hear.
Then, the incident happened—just as the voices were about to pass by.
“Mmmph! Mmmph!”
A pair of bloody hands suddenly grabbed the edge of the door.
The man closest to the door was so terrified he almost screamed—but just as he opened his mouth, Deng Zhi clamped a hand over it, silencing him.
“This one’s still lively,” someone outside said cheerfully.
The owner of the hands was then forcefully dragged back.
If you listened carefully, you could hear the chilling snap of bones breaking.
The door, still slightly ajar, was pulled shut in the process.
From just beyond that thin barrier, they heard the sickening thuds of a club striking flesh.
The “livestock” let out a few muffled, pained grunts—and then fell silent.
“Don’t damage it. Dead meat won’t stay fresh.”
“Oh.”
The sound of something being dragged slowly faded into the distance, and the inside returned to eerie silence.
Only a half-smudged bloody handprint near the door remained, a grim reminder of what had just occurred.
Everyone was gripped by despair. From what they’d just heard—and seen—it was painfully clear what the term “livestock” meant in this slaughterhouse.
The man in the suit was already on the verge of a breakdown. His arms had only been roughly splinted with sticks, and now he could barely move.
Red-eyed and in a pitiful state, he shouted at Lin Yang in a hushed voice, “Aren’t you an exorcist? Hurry up and get us out of here!”
Lin Yang, came from a powerful family, naturally had a bit of pride in his character. He responded coldly, “Want to leave? Fine. Just head out, turn left, and catch up with those people. I’m sure they’d be happy to send you off.”
Wen Yi chimed in at just the right moment, “They probably aren’t even human.”
The man’s face went pale, and he fell silent.
Deng Zhi, full of disgust, let go of the man he’d just silenced and raised his fist at him. “Don’t move around recklessly.”
That guy had almost gotten them all killed by opening the door. Now, he wisely kept quiet and didn’t dare make another move.
Lu Congxing scanned the inside of the factory and realized—it was actually a canned food factory.
But all the equipment was currently shut down, and the conveyor belts were empty.
He walked over, reached out a finger to touch a bit of the bloodstain on the belt, and brought it to his nose to sniff.
“It’s human blood.”
Everyone was startled. The woman, Wang Hanjiao, forced a nervous smile. “This isn’t the time for jokes. How could anyone possibly tell it’s human blood just by smell…?”
Lu Congxing’s expression didn’t change. “I’m not joking.”
Of course, it wasn’t the smell that told him—it was that human blood always carried more resentment than animal blood. For a demon, the difference was obvious.
While they talked, Deng Zhi took a look around and pried off a hammer-like object from one of the machines, swinging it like a spiked club.
Seeing this, the others quickly followed suit and started searching for something they could use to defend themselves.
Ever since she tore up her report card, Xue Shuangshuang had undergone a transformation. Even her voice had grown louder and more confident.
Optimistically, she said, “If we hide in here, maybe they won’t find us.”
But before her words had even faded, a roar echoed from outside the door.
“Meat livestock! I smell meat livestock!”
Everyone went pale with fear. Lu Congxing gave Xue Shuangshuang a helpless look.
He couldn’t help but feel this girl had awakened some kind of terrifying jinx.
The voice was still several hundred meters away, but in the next instant, it barreled straight to the door and slammed a massive palm against it.
The door wasn’t locked, so it was flung open easily.
Even though they’d mentally prepared themselves, the moment they saw what was outside, everyone froze.
A dog-headed butcher!
From the neck down, it was human—but its head was a grotesque patchwork of a dog’s. A face that might normally look cute now appeared monstrous, fangs bared and drooling with hunger.
Its white apron was soaked with blood.
The moment it saw them, its eyes filled with greedy desire. It opened its dog mouth and, shockingly, spoke in human language: “Heh heh heh… lucky my nose is sharp. I almost missed you.”
It stepped inside, its towering 2.5-meter frame blocking most of the light from the doorway.
“This is a canning factory,” it said, drooling. “Perfect place to turn you all into canned goods.”
Lin Yang instinctively shielded Wen Yi behind him. He felt an overwhelming pressure radiating from the butcher.
No way could they win. No chance at all.
That thought kept looping in his head, fear clouding his vision.
The dog-headed butcher was dragging a heavy iron chain behind it. The links scraped against the floor with a grating screech, the end of the chain stained with blood and bits of flesh.
It removed the chain from its wrist and began approaching them like a butcher sharpening his knife.
There was no mercy in its eyes—only the cold gaze one gives to walking slabs of meat.
The moment it reached for Xue Shuangshuang, Lu Congxing erupted.
Flames surged around him, erupting outward in a unified wave that engulfed the butcher.
A ring of fire, a meter high, surrounded it completely, and the air was filled with the smell of roasting meat.
The dog-headed butcher quickly realized this wasn’t ordinary fire. Its expression twisted in agony as it screamed, “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”
Lu Congxing ignored it and looked at the others. “Still not running?”
His words were like a starter’s pistol at a race—everyone bolted, scrambling to dash past the burning butcher and out the back.
Lin Yang hesitated for a second, but ran too. He couldn’t leave Wen Yi behind.
Trapped in the flames, the butcher could do nothing but roar in frustration as its “meat livestock” escaped.
But it was useless. Soon, Lu Congxing was the only one left in the factory.
The dog-headed butcher grinned wickedly. “Look at your companions—they’ve all abandoned you. Come, join the others in my belly and be with your fellow livestock once more.”
Lu Congxing’s expression remained blank as he intensified the flames in his attack. But in a moment of carelessness, the furious dog-headed butcher broke free.
Its muscles bulged with rage, strength amplified to the point where it could almost crush an adult human skull with ease. With a flick of its arm, it hurled the chain forward, straight toward its target.
Lu Congxing turned sideways to dodge the chain, but in the next second, the chain unexpectedly coiled straight toward him as if it were alive.
He hadn’t expected that kind of move. Before he knew it, he was completely bound by the chain.
With a sharp tug, the dog-headed butcher pulled the chain toward itself, dragging Lu Congxing to its feet, making him stumble along the way.
Struggling only made the chains tighten, so Lu Congxing gave a symbolic resistance before relaxing completely.
He calmly locked eyes with the dog-headed butcher.
There were no tears, no begging for mercy like the dog-headed butcher had expected from livestock. That only stoked its fury further. Its mouth stretched open in a manic scream: “I’m so angry! I’m so angry!”
Its venomous gaze scanned Lu Congxing up and down, as if trying to decide which tender part of his body would taste best.
It wanted to bite off this arrogant human’s head in one savage chomp, yet also wanted to take its time—slicing his flesh piece by piece to make him suffer before he died.
But it never got the chance to act on those thoughts.
Outside, a figure with the head of a cat shouted, “Ben? Is that you?”
The dog-headed butcher—apparently named Ben—turned around, eyes full of menace. “What?”
The cat-headed butcher’s eyes lit up. “You caught another piece of meat? Perfect. The one we just offered to the Master faked fainting and used some cheap trick to escape. Hurry and bring this one over as a replacement.”
Ben clearly wasn’t happy about that. His dog-like eyes glinted coldly. “A bunch of them just ran off. Go catch them. I’m handling this one myself.”
The cat-headed butcher didn’t like that response. His eyes were mismatched in color—at first glance they looked like heterochromatic eyes, but in truth, his head was stitched together from two different cat faces.
The stitching was extremely crude. The seam was full of decaying flesh—half of it belonged to a blue-eyed white cat, and the other half had the fur pattern of a calico.
This made its voice sound like two overlapping voices, which only made its speech even more disturbing.
“No way! What if we’re late and the Master gets angry?!”
“No way! What if we’re late and the Master gets angry?!”
One voice was female, the other male—creating a jarring contrast.
Clearly, it also feared the so-called “Master.” After baring its teeth at Lu Congxing for a moment, it had no choice but to agree.
It emphasized, “This time, I must deliver it myself.”
The cat-headed butcher nodded in agreement.
And so, Lu Congxing was escorted on the road. He had originally wanted to meet this so-called “Master” to see if they were the boss of this illusionary realm, so he was more than happy to be taken there.
Chains bound him, the other end held by the dog-headed butcher. The cat-headed butcher, afraid that the bad-tempered dog might sneak a bite, followed along as well.
After passing through a desolate path, they arrived at the entrance to the Master’s domain.
There were signs of a struggle at the door—clumps of hair and fresh blood.
Lu Congxing briefly thought to himself: the person the cat-headed butcher had mentioned earlier must have escaped from here.
Suddenly, he was shoved forward by a powerful force from behind.
Neither the dog nor the cats were willing to go any further. The dog-headed butcher retrieved the chain and said, “You—go in by yourself.”
It remembered the terrifying aura of this newly arrived Master, and a malicious grin returned to its face.
It could already picture Lu Congxing being tortured half to death, imagining him breaking down in tears and begging for mercy.
And then it would personally shatter that pride of his.
But Lu Congxing didn’t even look back. His posture remained upright as always. He reached out, pushed the door open, and stepped into the darkness.
The door slowly shut behind him.
In the dark, Lu Congxing summoned a small flame in his palm. It looked like a massive luxury hotel suite.
As he walked further in, he even saw a bed—but the so-called Master wasn’t on it. He stepped back slightly, thinking to check somewhere else.
“Mm!”
Caught off guard, he was suddenly pulled into a cold embrace.
His reflexes kicked in before his thoughts could catch up—he swung his elbow backward, only to have it firmly caught.
The person behind him traced down from his elbow to his waist, eventually gripping his lower back with irresistible strength and forcing him down.
The two of them fell onto the bed together, the soft mattress forming a shallow, ambiguous dent.
Before Lu Congxing could react, he felt a warm breath at his ear. The person behind him whispered, breathing slightly heavily and laced with anger:
“Disobedient cub.”