Circus of Horrors (19) End
Upon hearing this, Chen Li’s long, curled lashes trembled like anxious butterflies: “Then I’ll be gentler.”
He made his movements lighter, as if afraid of disturbing something.
A faint look of pity, pain, and guilt flickered in his eyes, his emotions a tangled mess.
Fu Moyang had achieved his goal of making the little lamb feel sorry for him. He became more obedient, and to prevent Chen Li from feeling guilty, he didn’t even furrow his brows during the rest of the treatment.
This was the first time Chen Li had dealt with such a horrifying injury. The most serious injury he had ever treated was a small cut on his finger that bled a few drops of blood. A simple band-aid had been enough. But now, he had to carefully wrap the wound with bandages, layer by layer.
He thought he would tremble, but in fact, he wrapped Fu Moyang’s shoulder with steady hands.
The hemostatic medicine given by the system came from the game shop, and its effects were excellent.
Fu Moyang looked down at the boy carefully bandaging his wound. Watching his serious side profile and those round, dark eyes, a strange itch crept up in his heart.
He couldn’t help but think of that feather-light goodnight kiss from before.
Even though he had already taken full advantage while the boy was asleep—sneaking more than a few kisses—something about that moment had shaken him to his core.
He really wanted to do it again…
Chen Li’s cheerful “All done!” pulled him out of his daze. Fu Moyang shifted his gaze—and saw the absurdly large bow tied on his shoulder.
Fu Moyang: “…”
Chen Li pursed his lips a little, embarrassed: “This is the only way I know how to wrap it.”
He looked at Fu Moyang with wide, hopeful eyes, silently asking for his opinion.
Faced with such innocent, childlike sincerity, Fu Moyang had no choice but to praise him: “Mm, you did a great job.”
A terrifying ghost needs a giant bow. Whatever the cute little lamb does is always right. 🙂
Chen Li asked: “Can you move it?”
Once the banquet downstairs ended, he was supposed to act as a guide NPC, leading the others out of the castle to successfully complete this instance.
Fu Moyang was about to nod when that tantalizing goodnight kiss flashed through his mind again. His tone suddenly changed: “It won’t stop hurting unless you blow on it.”
This time, it was Chen Li’s turn to fall silent.
His expression gradually turned blank: “Huh?”
Even five-year-olds in the neighborhood don’t need someone to blow on their scrapes anymore.
His dazed look slowly shifted into hesitation, as if he wanted to speak but held back.
Fu Moyang met his gaze with shameless confidence. That line, embarrassing as it was, somehow sounded even more indecent coming from someone with his dangerous charm.
His intense gaze bore into Chen Li, making him squirm. Chen Li kept reminding himself:
He got hurt because of you… he got hurt because of you…
After mentally preparing himself, he finally leaned in, pursed his lips, and gently blew on the wound. His soft, fair little face was filled with seriousness.
Even though the bandages made it impossible to actually feel his breath, Fu Moyang felt like the skin under them was about to melt. It was more comforting than a spring breeze.
His body wasn’t like that of a fragile human—in fact, even a gaping hole through his abdomen would heal quickly, let alone a minor shoulder wound. But to keep up the act, he deliberately suppressed the healing with ghost energy, constantly irritating the wound to keep it open.
System 001, detecting his petty actions: …Psychopath! This guy is a complete and utter lunatic!
And yet the one tangled up with this maniac was its own host. The naive host was even trying to comfort him!
System 001 was dying to grow a pair of real hands so it could grab Chen Li’s shoulders and shake him awake: Snap out of it! This guy isn’t some pitiful little stray—he’s a lunatic who doesn’t even spare himself!
It was deeply frustrated.
Dear Father, why didn’t you give me a physical form? If I had a body, I’d pick up my host and sprint a hundred meters away.
Chen Li, clueless about what was going on, looked up and rubbed his slightly sore cheek: “Let’s go, the banquet should be over by now.”
But as he said this, an inexplicable sense of dread rose in his chest once again.
That uneasy feeling had been lingering since just before the final performance began—like the instinctive fear animals have when they sense danger. He couldn’t shake it.
But all the performances were over. There shouldn’t be any more danger in the instance.
Chen Li forcefully suppressed the strange emotions and stood up from the bed.
Fu Moyang said calmly: “Mm. Let’s go.”
They opened the door and walked downstairs. Suddenly, a shadow flashed at the end of the corridor.
Startled, Chen Li stopped in his tracks: “What was that?”
Fu Moyang’s eyes turned cold: “Looks like a rat finally couldn’t stay hidden.”
A surge of black-red ghostly energy burst from his fingertips and shot straight at the shadow.
With a sizzling burn, a scream followed: “Ahhh!”
The shadow began to take form.
Chen Li stared in disbelief: “Emily?”
The figure wore a plain black-and-white maid outfit. She stood in silence, a giant bone-cutting cleaver in her hand, still dripping blood.
Seeing the familiar cleaver, Chen Li instantly recognized her: “San…na?”
What was going on? Wasn’t she the core NPC from the last instance? Why was she here?
He instinctively took a step back and grabbed Fu Moyang, trying to flee. But there was only one staircase leading down—running back would be a dead end. So after a few steps, he stopped and asked helplessly: “W-What do we do?”
On the other end, the maid was already approaching, dragging the cleaver along the ground with a harsh scraping noise.
She staggered forward, muttering: “Like… li…”
Chen Li froze: “Like what?”
The woman, still playing Emily, raised her head: “Like…” you.
Before she could finish, another sharp burst of ghostly energy pierced straight through her chest.
She slowly lowered her head, her face twisting into one of deep hatred.
Fu Moyang sneered coldly. Like he’d ever give this wretched creature a chance to speak.
Just a beast. It had somehow escaped from the last instance and snuck into this one, using someone else’s shell.
This time, he wouldn’t leave it alive.
The ghostly energy didn’t just pierce her chest—it stayed there, burning with intense pain. The woman playing Emily, Sanna, began to contort and scream, “None of you are getting out of here!”
She couldn’t bear to watch him walk away again.
With her last ounce of strength, Sanna lifted the cleaver and struck the wall.
And in that moment, Chen Li finally understood what had been bothering him all along. He cried out: “The painting on the wall!”
The painting that had been painted over in black was now slashed open from top to bottom, revealing the real image hidden beneath.
It turned out that the black layer was only on the surface—the darkness itself was more like a protective barrier, a kind of ward meant to shield the master of the old castle. The paintings imprisoned vengeful ghosts, all of whom had died due to the twisted pleasures of the cruel noble young master who once lived there.
The painting Sanna had slashed open happened to be that of a circus acrobat. He had been killed by Joker in a grotesque freak show. Even after escaping from the painting, his appearance was horrifying and grotesque.
And he was coming straight for Chen Li.
Fu Moyang raised his hand, unleashing a surge of ghostly energy. It swept forward like a hurricane, striking both the malformed ghost and the barely conscious Sanna.
The moment it touched them, the ghostly energy turned into blazing flames—hellfire from the depths of the underworld—consuming their filthy souls completely.
If Chen Li hadn’t seen clearly what had wounded Sanna before, he could see it unmistakably now.
His face turned pale: “What is that?”
“It’s one of my tools,” Fu Moyang replied, changing the subject. “Hurry. It didn’t just release that one painting—several others have been slashed too.”
In other words, the entire castle was now crawling with vengeful ghosts out for blood.
Although those paintings were originally just background for this game scenario—representing the sins committed by the original master—Chen Li still had to bear the consequences. He quickly stopped worrying about the hellfire and grabbed Fu Moyang’s hand, running downstairs as he shouted: “To the front gate! Once we pass through it, the game will be cleared!”
Getting all the surviving players out of the castle was his final mission.
They raced down the stairs, and sure enough, all the other paintings on the lower floors had been torn open. Chen Li felt a chill run down his spine.
He suddenly realized that the person who had first killed the butler NPC was actually Emily—after Sanna’s soul had taken over her body.
The reason the butler had been strung up was also due to a habit Sanna had developed in the previous game instance, where she played the butcher. There were no large meat hooks in this castle, so she had to make do with rope.
Both corpses in the castle had been disposed of by the maid. In Sanna’s eyes, humans were livestock. So the bodies had ended up in her stomach.
The only strange thing was the motive for killing the butler in the first place.
It might have been that the butler noticed something off about the maid, prompting Sanna to silence him.
Although that was mostly true, Chen Li had guessed one thing wrong—the real reason Sanna was driven to kill was jealousy.
The moment the butler first said at the dining table that he would serve the young master, jealousy had pushed Sanna over the edge. She killed him before Fu Moyang or Joker had a chance to act.
That night, when the corpse was discovered, she hadn’t shown up at all—deliberately lowering her chances of being suspected.
Up on the fifth floor, the hellfire continued to spread until it engulfed the entire floor, consuming all the souls trapped there.
Chen Li and Fu Moyang made it to the main hall, where they saw two bodies lying on the ground.
It was the dancers!
Their bodies were covered in knife wounds. The fatal injury was to their necks—just barely held together by a strip of skin.
That’s where the blood on the maid’s cleaver had come from.
Chen Li’s voice trembled: “They’re all dead?”
They had survived the performance… only to die here.
Once again, he felt the malice of this Horror Game.
Cruel and merciless.
Fu Moyang covered his eyes: “There are still two people alive.”
The Magician and the Puppeteer.
The two girls had hidden the moment they sensed danger approaching.
“We need to find them and get them out of the castle.” Chen Li’s trembling finally stopped.
His vision was blocked by the man’s broad palm—but with it, the fear faded away.
[System, can you detect where they’re hiding?]
System 001: [The room at the very end of the second floor.]
Chen Li: “Second floor!”
But Fu Moyang still didn’t remove his hand from Chen Li’s eyes. The vengeful ghosts from the paintings had appeared—the entire hall had turned into a scene straight from Avici Hell. Souls twisted in agony filled the space, driven purely by bloodthirsty instinct. Drawn to the sweet scent on Chen Li, they hungered for what didn’t belong to them.
In an instant, ghostly energy streaked with threads of red erupted like blooming spider lilies, engulfing the entire hall. Every ghost that touched it writhed in torment, twisted in pain, and burned in the endless hellfire, without even the chance to scream.
And yet, at the center of it all, a protective barrier formed beneath Chen Li’s feet—an oasis untouched by the ghost fire and wailing ghosts. Nothing could cross into that space.
Sensing something was wrong, Chen Li reached up to try and pull Fu Moyang’s hand away. Uneasy, he asked: “What’s wrong?”
Had he… heard something?
Fu Moyang lowered his gaze, suppressing the killing intent in his eyes: “It’s nothing.”
How could he let these filthy things frighten his little lamb?
Author’s note:
Someone: I can scare my own little lamb. Other ghosts aren’t allowed to.
Joker, returning to find the entire castle burned down: …?