My ‘Healing’ Game
Chapter 387: Who is Whose Trump Card

Chapter 387: Chapter 387: Who is Whose Trump Card

"Does all the Death Intent under the Death Building come from that Insect Cocoon?"

The Death Intent rotting underground for who knows how many years was completely activated by the Butterfly, and the black fog formed entirely of Death Intent engulfed everyone present, its intense aura assaulting each soul and imprinting the deepest despair upon everyone’s heart.

Nightmares flowed within the black veins, densely interwoven, and that giant cocoon emerged like a sea monster surfacing from the deep waters.

"So that’s the Butterfly’s trump card? That’s the real move it dares to use to stand off against the Unspeakable?"

As the fleshly Giant Cocoon emerged, the foundation of the Death Building ripped away, completely shattering Closet World and merging it entirely with the Deep World.

Each piece of Blood Clothes hanging in Closet World transformed into blood-soaked souls. They had long since lost their own consciousness, existing yet appearing merely as garments that could be casually worn by anyone.

The Monster of Closet World became nourishment for the Butterfly; all the closets crumbled under the Death Curse as the Butterfly used their power to mend the cracks on its own cloak.

The wounds wrought with all the strength of Old Ghost were healing quickly, and the Butterfly’s legs were also slowly emerging from the deformed mass of flesh. With the shock brought by that cocoon, no one present dared to make a reckless move.

Perhaps the Butterfly hadn’t lied, and everything indeed remained within its control.

As the Manager of the Death Building, it knew every blade of grass and tree and manipulated all the Fierce Ghosts and Monsters as if they were mere puppets. How can puppets revolt against their master?

As Death Intent soaked through its body, the Butterfly’s handsome face regained its calm.

"Everything must return to the right track!"

Its empty chest faced the Giant Cocoon as it softly murmured, chanting a strange name.

Countless veins dragged the Giant Cocoon from deep underground; everyone could feel the terrifying presence emanating from it, a presence that mingled with the Death Intent, exceeding even Hatred—an Unspeakable terror!

"The future you see in your nightmares is, after all, just a nightmare."

Butterfly’s words were directed at the cocoon; his eerily beautiful face twisted into a distorted smile as his slender hands plunged fiercely into the cocoon.

The veins flowing with nightmares opened slowly like petals, and a flower containing countless children’s nightmares bloomed in the Deep World—the most terrifying thing in the entire Death Building was about to appear!

No one could help but feel fear and apprehension, all eyes fixed on the center of the Giant Cocoon.

Death Intent dispersed, the several-meter-long dark black veins just details on the leaves, the true blood flower concealed at the very center of the cocoon.

As that streak of red appeared, everyone’s gaze, including the Butterfly’s, shifted.

A red shadow stood up from within the deepest part of the blood-veined cocoon, her body ablaze with Hatred and Death Intent. And before this red shadow, a man with a knife in one hand knelt on the Shrine of Divine Spirits, coldly observing everything around him.

"Han Fei?"

Upon seeing that figure, everyone’s reactions differed.

The residents of Happiness Residential Community almost instantly recognized Han Fei. In their astonishment, they subconsciously began to approach where Han Fei was; there was nothing to fear, for it was their Building Chief standing there.

The Death Curse was activated, and Old Ghost, who already had little time left, also saw Han Fei. A trace of confusion appeared in the malicious gaze of the Soul of Evil.

Through Butterfly’s previous words, he understood that his soul had been split, and after communicating with the Old Ghost, he also realized that a person’s soul is divided into different souls based on memory, some being Good Souls and others, Evil Souls.

Looking at the madman who defiled the shrine with a living body, the Soul of Evil slightly narrowed his eyes. After repeatedly comparing the two, he finally came to a conclusion, "Is that my own Evil Soul? It’s indeed mad enough!"

Upon hearing the laugh of the Soul of Evil, Butterfly’s handsome face began to show terrifying marks similar to livor mortis, and the chill in its gaze caused the temperature in the Death Building to drop.

No living person could enter the lowest floor of the Death Building, and apart from itself, no one else knew the location of the shrine.

How had he resisted the Death Intent in the deepest part of the Death Building? Why was he unaffected after being hit by the Death Curse? Normally, having lost his childhood and sense of good and evil, his memory should gradually become blank, but he seemed unaffected at all? How had the waste that failed to break through the hatred in Building One become entangled with him? Why did all ghosts like to be with this ugly thing!

Butterfly had too many doubts in his heart. It had planned everything, spending years arranging things from the Mortal World to the Underworld, yet in just a few weeks, an ordinary person was standing on the shrine prepared for itself!

The torn chest was yearning for something, and deep within the soul, it felt as if a knife was slowly cutting through flesh and blood. More and more marks of livor mortis appeared on Butterfly’s face; it had been a long time since it felt this kind of emotion.

"Once I become you, I will make you kill all the people you care about with your own hands, making you live in pain and despair for all eternity!"

Boundless Hatred surged from the torn chest. It was clear to feel that Butterfly’s Hatred far exceeded that of Old Ghost and the Building-jumping Ghost.

Blood vessels stretched towards the shrine, and as the Giant Cocoon was dragged towards Butterfly, the shrine enveloped in layers of bloodflowers was revealed to everyone’s eyes. Everyone saw the mutilated heart in the shrine and the Big Evil that was struggling to gnaw at that heart!

If saying that Han Fei was reluctantly acceptable squatting on the shrine prepared by Butterfly for himself, the sight of the heart in the shrine being gnawed by a hideous Evil Insect completely breached Butterfly’s bottom line!

Flawless skin kept showing marks of livor mortis, and the shapes of those marks were very similar to the bite marks on the human heart.

As the Death Building Manager, Butterfly had long been able to perfectly hide its emotions, not affected by any external thing, until today it encountered Han Fei.

With a gesture of its fingers, a deep blue Hatred concealed a night sky belonging to Butterfly as it pointed in Han Fei’s direction!

The Unspeakable aura of terror swiftly crawled along the blood vessels on the floor. Butterfly’s Hatred constructed its own night sky, with the humanity it imprisoned and toyed with being the starlight in the deep night.

In this night sky, countless pitch-black butterflies were flying, and upon closer inspection, their dense wings were full of people’s most desperate expressions at the moment of death.

These butterflies formed a Nightmare, flying directly towards where Han Fei was.

Zhuang Wen’s Hatred couldn’t stop all the butterflies, and even she was shrouded by Butterfly’s night, with the distance too close, it seemed no one could save Han Fei.

A faint flame lit up on the shrine, and wisps of smoke drifted into the air as Han Fei stood upright, stepping on the shrine, he gently flicked off the ash.

As the last cigarette was lit, heart-wrenching singing emanated from outside the building.