Journey to the End of the Night -
Chapter 156 - 156 155 Corpse Demon
156: Chapter 155: Corpse Demon 156: Chapter 155: Corpse Demon Wen Hanwei’s heart grew cold, and knowing it was not the time to linger, she caught up to Baili An, took his hand, and said indifferently, “I will tell you the story of the Demon Prison slowly, let’s leave this place first.”
Baili An nodded and, turning to Sikong, bowed slightly, saying, “Then Si Chen and my sister will take their leave first.”
He emphasized the word “sister” heavily.
Because Sikong’s earlier words “your woman” had indeed been a deep and absurd misunderstanding.
He detested the flippant and lewd expression on that man’s face when he uttered those four words.
Despite his displeasure, he still patiently completed the polite goodbyes.
The two figures vanished into the darkness.
Sikong stood there as if his soul had been drained, until Baili An and Wen Hanwei’s presence had completely disappeared, then he suddenly whirled around with an intense reaction.
“Si Chen?!!
You say your name is Si Chen?
Your surname is Si?
Hahahaha!!!
Excellent!!!
Can it be that someone else dares to have the surname Si in this world, aside from Xiao Li?”
What interrupted Sikong’s near-mad state was a voice as cold and silent as still water.
“To make three contracts with three different people all at once, Sikong, you have become greedier and greedier.”
The black city-state, the Ancient Desolate Domain.
On the ruins of the ancient road and city walls, where faint footsteps crushed dust, stone, and vegetation, the fog seemed to grow even denser.
Unlike the darkness of this secluded valley world, a deeper, more evil, and more pure black mist swirled around, tenderly wrapping around the newcomer, finally transforming into a pitch-black cloak.
The black garment was adorned with silver-white Demon Spider totems, symbolizing slaughter and Hell.
He slowly approached Sikong, holding a solitary lantern in his hand, casting a cold light that filled the heavy stone walls on both sides of the ancient road with dark patterns.
Half of his face under the cloak was highlighted by the candlelight, with thin, sharp lips that seemed to possess a kind of dangerous lethality.
The hood covered most of his face, concealing his exact features and his eyes, but there was no doubt his gaze was fixed on Sikong.
His voice, hoarse, rang out, “It’s evident you’ve enjoyed yourself thoroughly today.”
Sikong looked at the man before him, his eyes narrowing imperceptibly before revealing a charming smile, “Certainly, I’ve had a great time.
The people who made contracts with me today were indeed quite intriguing.”
He casually stretched out his hand, twirling a lock of hair from beneath the cloak around his fingers, and said, “Aren’t you one of them, Xing Wu my lord?”
Suddenly, a gale full of the scent of death swept through, blowing the man’s cloak away and revealing a pair of cold, murderous eyes.
“Correct, I am indeed the ‘Prison’ inside the Demon World, and the name Xing Wu is exclusive to me alone.”
Sikong smiled faintly, “The ring that represents the identity of the Demon Prison was taken by Wen Hanwei of the Nine Classics.
The secret I’ve kept for you all these years is about to be exposed.
Aren’t you going to chase after and kill that woman?”
Xing Wu snorted coldly, “Although the ring is in the hands of the Nine Classics’ Wen Hanwei, the one truly attached to that corpse…”
He paused, and after a moment, continued slowly, “Is that little brat.”
“Therefore, the Nine Classics will undoubtedly hand that ring over to him.”
Xing Wu slowly raised his eyes as dark as ink stained by Hell, “If I truly cared about that ring exposing my identity, I should kill those two instead.”
Sikong froze, his eyes sharpening with a hint of cold killing intent, “Would you dare to touch the youth and try?”
Xing Wu scoffed derisively, “Don’t start a game you can’t afford to play.
I hope that in front of me, you can put away your despicable and cunning tricks.”
Sikong’s gaze was fixed on him, as if he was quite uneasy.
Noticing his look, Xing Wu pulled the hood back over his face, the corner of his mouth curling into a cruel arc.
“No need to be so wary.
I won’t lay a hand on those two.
After all, tormenting and slaughtering such people until death, they maintain a disgusting air of unyielding pride.
It’s truly uninteresting.”
“I don’t understand,” Sikong said, his gaze carrying a hint of probing confusion and careless amusement.
“Over two hundred years ago, you killed the true Demon Prison Xing Wu, exchanged places with me, and we made our first agreement for me to guard this corpse and keep the secret from being uncovered by others.
This behavior doesn’t seem like your style.
Once the identity of the corpse is revealed, you will face endless pursuit from countless forces in the Demon World.
With your nature, not destroying it personally and preserving the corpse in such an intact state is already a strange occurrence.
Now that ring has been taken by someone else, and you’re not showing the slightest panic.
So confident, what exactly is your reliance?”
Xing Wu took out a silver needle, delicately adjusting the wick of the lantern.
The dim flame brightened slightly, casting two slender reflections in his dark eyes.
“Confident without fear?
Because of being favored, that’s why I can be fearless.
That little brat’s memories are fragmented like this, and when leaving, he didn’t forget to take that filthy ash with him.
His…
regard for it suggests he won’t reveal the existence of that ring easily.
Even if it were to be exposed, that day would be the moment the little brat regains his memory.
At that time…
the role of the silver ring would be insignificant.”
Under Sikong’s curious gaze, Xing Wu’s smile was like a blood-weeping, keen demonic blade, chilling and merciless, “After all, I am the one who killed the Demon Prison before the little guy’s very eyes.”
Sikong’s eyes showed a surge of disbelief, “From what you’re saying, this youth, living as a corpse demon, has lost all memory of his life.”
Xing Wu replied indifferently, “Can’t you see that he is a direct descendant of Jiang Chen?”
Sikong’s smile slowly faded, his expression becoming rarely serious, “If I hadn’t realized he was my one and only adorable little brother, do you really think I would have let him go today?”
Xing Wu remained silent, his gaze carrying a faint sneer.
Sikong touched his chest, revealing a smile, and returned to his throne to sit down gracefully, crossing one long leg.
His right palm opened, conjuring something from thin air, and a golden goblet landed steadily in his grasp, the wine within as red as blood, reflecting a flicker of candlelight.
He elegantly raised his glass, took a sip, and said, “Human beings have always had a great misunderstanding about us, the Corpse Demon, believing that the moment we shed our human form to become a Corpse Demon, our memories from when we were human are disregarded and lost as well.
But this is not the case.
As reborn Corpse Demons, we indeed may lose part of our memories, but only the unimportant parts of life, just as aging humans selectively forget memories, but certainly not everything from the past.
Humans think we lack the memories of our previous lives, but how would they know that we have stored within us unforgettable and significant memories?
However, as Corpse Demons, what we lose are the seven emotions and six desires of being human, along with those excess and unnecessary emotions, after all…”
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