Circus of Horrors (12)
“You…” Chen Li instinctively reached out to grab him, but only managed to catch the corner of his coat.
The man in the black tailcoat leapt down, landing in front of the monster.
Even though the creature stood nearly three meters tall, Fu Moyang—at 1.85 meters—didn’t seem at all overpowered. Just by standing there, he seemed to suppress half of its killing intent.
The remains of the previous beast tamer were still on the ground—nothing more than a few scattered bones and tattered clothing. But this time, the monster didn’t charge forward to bite his head off. Instead, its eight heads swayed warily from side to side.
The bizarre hands growing from its body trembled like dead branches swaying in the wind.
“Eat him!”
“Meat! Eat meat!”
“Chew him up! Chew him up!”
Each of the eight heads shouted something different, yet none of them dared move. Unlike before, they all held back.
The players huddled in the corner exchanged looks, silently screaming in their hearts: Where’s all that terrifying bravado from earlier!?
But no one dared say anything out loud. Whether the beast tamer died or actually managed to tame the monster, either outcome would benefit them.
The female dancer nervously tugged on her boyfriend’s sleeve: “Do you think he’ll succeed?”
The dart thrower, still shaken from earlier, shot her a glance: “No way. How could a human possibly beat that thing?”
Chen Li was equally tense. He was scared of seeing a gory scene but couldn’t look away.
The words the man had spoken just moments ago were branded in his heart.
Then, under everyone’s watchful gaze, Fu Moyang finally moved.
He unfastened the sleek black whip from his waist and cracked it against the floor with several sharp smack sounds, sending gusts of wind in all directions.
Just seeing that whip made Chen Li involuntarily remember being tied to the headboard with it—and his heart began to bubble with frustration.
He had almost forgotten just how much he hated this man!
System 001, detecting the host’s rising anger, couldn’t help but chime in gleefully: [If he dies right here, honestly, that wouldn’t be so bad.]
Chen Li was shocked: [System, how can you be so awful?!]
System 001: […]
Do you hate him or not!?
Feeling wronged, System 001 sulked back into its space, grumbling to itself.
Down below, the monster that had held back earlier suddenly erupted in rage the moment it saw the whip. All eight heads roared at once, feeling utterly provoked.
The sharp, piercing noise was enough to make everyone’s eardrums ache.
The leading head—the “Husband”—snarled, “Damn human!”
Then it lunged forward, jaws wide open, revealing rows of jagged teeth. Even a single drop of the saliva it sprayed was potent enough to corrode human flesh like strong sulfuric acid.
Fu Moyang didn’t even flinch. His legs bent slightly, and with a powerful push, he leapt into the air just before the monstrous head could bite down on him.
The attack missed completely, the head skidding across the ground—only to suddenly feel a weight land on top of it.
The “Husband” head strained to roll its bulging, bloodshot eyeball upward—Fu Moyang was standing right on top of it.
It roared in fury: “Raa—”
But the roar twisted halfway through into a scream of agony.
In Fu Moyang’s hands, the black whip moved with the fluidity of a serpent, striking straight into the monster’s eyeball.
The many-pupiled triangular eye burst under the blow, spraying blood and gore.
The other heads howled in shared pain.
An elder-looking head, wrinkled and sagging, lunged forward to knock Fu Moyang off—but before it could get close, the whip snapped across its face with a sharp crack.
It didn’t look like much, but the blow lit its face on fire with searing pain.
It shrieked: “It hurts! Hurts!! Hurts!!!”
Fu Moyang showed no favoritism—each of the heads received a solid lash in turn.
The whip had no barbs, yet every strike ripped through flesh, peeling back layers of skin and exposing raw bone.
The monster thrashed and twisted violently, trying to shake Fu Moyang off. But he stayed firmly planted, like he was glued in place. Each time his arm rose and fell, a fresh, jagged wound appeared on the monster’s body.
It was a savage, bloody beast-taming display—one that Chen Li felt he should be horrified by.
But instead, he felt something strange stirring inside him—he simply couldn’t take his eyes off Fu Moyang.
There was a certain elegance to his movements, almost like he wasn’t wielding a whip but conducting an orchestra. Even beneath the tailored tailcoat, the explosive power in his body was clear with every precise motion of his straight-backed form.
Sensing the lamb’s gaze fixed on him, Fu Moyang allowed a subtle smile to curl at the corner of his lips.
He could have killed the monster outright—but of course, he had to put on a show first.
And now, the show was ready to end.
With a deft flick of the wrist, the long whip coiled several loops around the “Husband” head. The other eye had been destroyed in the earlier struggle, leaving it completely blind. Feeling the sudden, choking pressure around its neck, it let out a terrified wail.
A monster like this had to have a core—once that core was destroyed, it would mean certain death.
The other heads lunged forward, trying to bite at the whip coiled around the “Husband” neck. But thanks to the earlier scuffle, the entangled knots had only worsened. Most of the heads were effectively immobilized, left howling in futile rage.
Then, with the sickening crunch of breaking bones, the largest head collapsed. Its long neck went limp, slumping to the ground.
Did he win?
The players slowly stood up from the corner, stunned—only to flinch and scramble back a second later.
The monster wasn’t dead after all!
Their hearts, which had just begun to calm, surged with panic again. Chen Li’s breath caught in his throat.
Fu Moyang was standing closest to the “Infant” head—its purple-red skin gleaming as it opened its toothy maw, ready to bite.
“Be careful!” Chen Li cried.
But his voice, small and trembling like a kitten’s mewl, was barely audible—even to himself.
The “Infant” head’s mouth was lined with razor-sharp teeth, easily capable of tearing through a human calf.
Fu Moyang, however, didn’t even glance at it. He simply lifted his leg and kicked.
The head instantly deflated like a punctured balloon. The skull, hard as it was, crumpled under that casual strike.
Was that… really strength a human could possess?
The players stared at him in shock.
The Puppeteer murmured: “Who are you?”
“AAAHHH! I’LL KILL YOU!!”
A piercing scream drew everyone’s attention.
The female head—with wild, tangled hair—let out an ear-splitting screech as it swelled to several times its original size.
As it grew, the other heads shriveled and shrank, like fruit drained of all nutrients on a dying tree.
Fu Moyang frowned impatiently: “So you’re the core.”
He’d misjudged.
The monstrous neck could no longer support the swollen head. The female head opened its mouth and spat out a massive pus-filled bubble, which hit the ground and instantly melted a gaping hole through it.
It thought it had succeeded. Its malformed, lumpy mouth began to twist into a triumphant grin—only to suddenly feel a chill at the back of its skull.
“How… can…”
The last words never finished. It collapsed.
The massive, fleshy body followed suit, crashing down in a cloud of dust.
No one had even seen what happened—Fu Moyang had already blinked behind it and cracked its skull open.
As the dust settled, Fu Moyang turned toward the VIP box, bowed slightly, and silently mouthed two words:
Young Master.
Chen Li lowered his gaze, uncomfortable. A subtle warmth bloomed at the tip of his heart.
Joker: …Flirting right in front of me?!
He was furious—ready to jump in and deal with Fu Moyang himself.
But the moment the young master looked his way, Joker smoothed his expression, forced a smile, and ground out each word: “Congratulations.”
What his mouth said didn’t match the killing intent in his eyes.
Fu Moyang returned the smile—cold and unreadable.
Joker didn’t bother playing along. With a snap of his fingers, he dismissed the illusion and released everyone from the circus. Then he vanished without a trace.
None of the players—grateful just to have survived—dared question the temperamental ringmaster. One by one, their tension melted away.
Fu Moyang tossed aside the bloodstained whip and walked up to Chen Li, lowering his head slightly: “Young Master, I heard you just now.”
Chen Li shot him a glare.
Fu Moyang found it all too amusing: “You told me to be careful. That means… you were worried about me, weren’t you?”
He deliberately lowered his voice, making it sound extra intimate.
A sharp scraping of chair legs broke the moment.
“You’re overthinking it,” Chen Li said, his expression stern as he stood up. Just looking at this man’s smug face reminded him of the time he’d been tied to the bed with that same whip.
Frustrated, he raised his foot and kicked Fu Moyang in the shin, then turned and bolted up the stairs without a word.
The players who had witnessed everything didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly.
After witnessing Fu Moyang’s terrifying strength, they were now terrified that this NPC still dared to act so “defiantly.” If these two actually came to blows, the ones who’d suffer would definitely be bystanders like them.
This NPC—whose background was still unknown—had managed to treat even someone like Joker’s equal as a mere servant.
Definitely not ordinary.
Fu Moyang had just been kicked, but it felt more like a kitten giving him a playful swipe with its claws—no real harm, just a gentle pat.
He almost laughed aloud. Watching the spoiled little lamb stomp upstairs, he followed along leisurely, not sparing a single glance at the others.
But when they reached the fifth floor, Chen Li shut the door in his face without hesitation—with a loud slam.
Fu Moyang blinked, innocent: “Young Master, won’t you let me in?”
The only response was the thump of a pillow being thrown against the door.
Seemed like he was really mad.
Fu Moyang pictured the little lamb pouting inside, puffed up like a sticky rice cake, and couldn’t hold back anymore—a smile spread across his face… only to freeze halfway.
His gaze sharpened as he turned around: “What do you want?”
Joker—who had vanished earlier—was now standing silently at the corner of the corridor, shrouded in shadow, eyes fixed on him.
“This isn’t a place for circus ringmaster,” Fu Moyang said coldly, voice laced with warning.
He didn’t bother to hide the pride in his tone—as if flaunting his identity as a butler all over again.
Joker narrowed his eyes: “You’re not human.”
Fu Moyang didn’t deny it. His expression didn’t change.
Joker didn’t seem to mind either. In fact, he’d suspected it from the moment he first laid eyes on Fu Moyang.
This player wasn’t human.
It was the first time he had ever encountered a non-human player, just like the first time he discovered that some NPCs were actually real humans.
But his feelings toward the two cases couldn’t be more different.
Joker bared his gleaming sharp teeth: “You shouldn’t be near him, you filthy thing with ulterior motives.”
Fu Moyang scoffed: “And what exactly do you think you are?”
Joker was momentarily speechless, caught off guard—because truthfully, his own intentions for coming here hadn’t been pure either.
The tension between them suddenly thickened. Fu Moyang’s eyes turned icy. Joker’s aura shifted too, a deadly killing intent beginning to seep from him like a rising tide.
Just as it seemed they might clash at any moment, a soft click came from behind the door.
The door opened just a crack, and a furry little head peeked out.
Chen Li blinked his round eyes, looked at Joker, then at Fu Moyang, and after a pause: “You all continue.”
With a whoosh, he disappeared back inside and click—locked the door.
Fu Moyang: “…”
Joker: “…”
Author’s note:
Li Bao: I don’t get you two.