Chapter 215: Hunger House

The instant the attendant saw that doorway, it was as if he had been struck by lightning. All color drained from his face, leaving him even paler than the hollow creature peering out from behind the curtain. His pupils trembled beyond control.

“H-hunger...”

A broken whimper came from his throat, but very soon, he could no longer make a sound. His eyes were wide, and his tongue was frozen. He struggled, but it was all in vain, for he couldn’t move.

The moment that face saw him, his body seemed to fall under the control of some invisible force. He couldn’t even call for help from the colleague standing right beside him. All he could do was tremble. Everything but fear evaporated from his mind as his gaze was drawn into that deep, dark void, one that he couldn’t look away from.

“So hungry, so hungry. Come in, come in, come in...” The pale face smiled, bloody tears winding down its cheeks as it beckoned. “Hehehehe. Come in and eat, eat, eat, eat... eat, eat, eat, eat...”

The figure was clearly so far away, yet when it reached out, the attendant felt as though his own hand had been grasped and gently tugged. It led him, step by step, into the darkness behind the hanging curtain.

From the dark came the sound of some thick liquid dripping onto the floor. Surrounded by pale faces that smiled as they wept blood, the man was carefully lifted by two absurdly enormous hands, as if he were some precious treasure.

Crunch.

With a crisp sound, sweet and succulent blood fell like rain.

The first officiant vanished, then the second, then the third. It wasn’t until the fourth one vanished without a sound that the priest finally sensed that something was wrong as violent tremors interrupted the sacrifice and the esoterism. He snapped his head around, scanning the surroundings.

Four people had suddenly disappeared. Only heaps of discarded clothing remained on the floor.

“What’s going on?” the priest roared. “Where did those four go?”

“I don’t know.” The subordinate beside him shook his head in confusion, then noticed the priest staring at him as though he had seen a ghost.

A black handprint had appeared around the subordinate’s neck, one that he was unconsciously scratching. “What is it? Why are you looking at... at... at...”

Then, through his confusion, he saw a doorway materialize behind the priest like a hallucination. Four familiar, pale faces were smiling from behind the hanging curtain, gazing at him. His blood ran cold.

The doorway, the hanging curtain, the pale attendants... This was the Hunger House!

“Priest, save... save... save me...”

Before he was completely captured, the subordinate used every ounce of strength he had to twist his head and look toward the priest, but his boss was livid. Without hesitation, he flicked his hand. In an instant, the subordinate burst into a mass of blood and gore, throwing everything into chaos.

The Heretic Cult’s ritual attendants recoiled in terror, abandoning the ceremony in their panic. They stared in bewilderment until they saw black handprints emerging throughout the pulped remains.

Within that mass of crushed blood and gore, pitch-black handprints emerged one after another, crawling and groping in every direction. There were hundreds or even thousands of them. Like a flood, they engulfed everything.

Screams filled the chamber as everyone scattered, desperate to get away. Were it not for the cult’s strict discipline, they would have already fled through the doors!

The five threat levels were Disaster, Hazard, Extinction, Annihilation, and End.

After roaming Spring City for decades, this creature had devoured vast amounts of aberrant contamination once the city began to rise. In a single night, it had become one of six aberrants to reach Extinction-Class. This was the Hunger House!

The priest was drenched in sweat. He screamed, “Why is it here? Wasn’t it in the northern district? Who was it? Who brought its anchor in here?”

No one answered. In the chaos, no one had the spare attention to care about rank or hierarchy anymore.

If not for the many sacrificial offerings to Upper Abominations on the altar suppressing its power, and if the priest had not seized the opportunity to trap it within that space, the Hunger House would have probably swallowed the entire altar by now.

Those damned bastards from Wulou Temple! Why had they not kept proper watch over their things?

No, this had to be the work of those bastards from the Celestial Heart Society, since they only ever stood back and watched the spectacle...

But there was no point assigning blame now. As numerous black handprints spread across the room, hungry panting and laughter echoed from all around.

Then came the weeping. The illusory doorway was cracking.

From the darkness behind the curtain, a huge, naked, hunched figure could faintly be seen squatting on the ground, covering its face with its hands, but even those enormous hands couldn’t hide the split-open mouth beneath them as it chewed, thick crimson fluid slowly dripping down. Behind the gaps between its fingers, its hollow eyes moved, staring straight at the priest.

And in that very moment, the seal enveloping Spring City Bank cracked open.

In the dark rear alley, a shimmering membrane of light emerged. From the center, it was pulled open from both sides, like a curtain, under the tearing bites of two enormous metal hounds. Even with such a massive breach torn open, not a single alarm was triggered. The barrier and esoterism continued operating as though nothing had happened, showing off an astonishing display of craftsmanship.

These were, after all, the prized tools Master Kong had once used to... well, learn from others’ strengths. They truly were extraordinary. No wonder those two dogs looked a little like huskies.

When Ji Jue slid down from the high-rise along a mercury rappel line and arrived at the rendezvous, this was what he saw. Admiration filled his face, but a faint ache stirred in his heart. He had lost count of how many days it had been since he parted from Mr. Ball. He missed him. If Mr. Ball were here, would he still be in such a sorry state?

A mobile workshop came with its own defenses and internal space. It was equipped with a Blessing Cage and a spirit matter reserve vault, lacked none of the necessary materials, and even had a furnace personally tuned and built by Professor Ye. Wherever he went, he could work, fight, and refine as long as he had Mr. Ball.

It was so wonderful it felt like a dream. Just thinking about it made him want to shed a few tears. When would he ever get a mobile workshop that amazing?

“Everyone understands the plan, right?” Tong Shan asked one final time. He reached into his storage ring and pulled out the flag Ji Jue had welded back together as best he could.

Ji Jue had forcibly reconnected the shattered spirit circuits and barely restored its functionality. It was hardly in good condition, but it would serve its purpose, much like Tong Shan himself. On his newly grown right hand, several fingers were still stiff and difficult to move. He could only control them by force with telekinesis, but fortunately, they didn’t get in the way.

Everyone nodded.

“I’ll go over it one last time,” Tong Shan said over the channel. “My primary objective is to end the ritual as quickly as possible. Beyond that, I’ll monitor the overall situation and provide support. Once we’re inside, everyone will assist Mechanic in seizing the central controls before the cultists can trigger an alarm or call for reinforcements. Garlic Girl will protect him while Big Brother and Iron Man will handle the sweep and bring Mechanic’s vehicle with them.

“Everyone inside is to be eliminated. Leave no survivors. Gossip Junkie and Big Hose will remain outside to maintain communications and provide support. If necessary, I’ll give the order to retreat. When that happens, no one hesitates. Understood?”

Everyone nodded in perfect unison once more.

Tong Shan smiled. There was nothing more to say.

Cumbersome equipment hit the ground. Ji Xue tossed aside her backpack and undid the outer layer of equipment Ji Jue had specially made for her, revealing the thin protective suit beneath. Its fitted lines showed off her graceful figure.

She took a deep breath, twisted her waist, and swung her arms to warm up. Then she reached out and held Ji Jue’s shoulder. Noticing how tense he was, she narrowed her eyes behind her respirator. “Don’t be nervous. Since it’s your first time, just leave everything to me.”

Ji Jue sighed. “I have no problem leaving it to you, but could you phrase that in a less suggestive way? Does our team have any rules against sexual harassment?”

“Sorry. We don’t.”

Low laughter rippled through the group.

A searing light slowly emerged within Ji Xue’s eyes as she warmed up. It grew dazzlingly bright, while the fluctuations of spirit matter around her intensified. It was like some enormous creature slowly waking from slumber. Veins crawled across her cheeks, making her once-beautiful features look terribly ferocious.

“I’m almost ready.” She forced the words out through clenched teeth. “I can only accelerate time tenfold for six seconds.”

Tong Shan nodded and gave her shoulder one final pat. “That’s enough.”

On the flag in his hand, a myriad of scenes revolved and shifted until, at last, they transformed into a manifestation of a vortex. As the tip of the flagstaff pointed forward, an invisible storm of surging tides instantly enveloped the entire bank. Due to the violent tremors, countless panes of glass shattered at once, yet not a single sound could be heard.

The pressure inside shifted from the crushing weight of the ocean depths to the absolute emptiness of a vacuum. Vast quantities of air compressed and expanded, creating a devastating blast that surged through the building under the guidance of telekinesis and tore through everything in its path.

Even the sound of the explosion was completely suppressed. Crimson clouds of blood burst from every corner of the bank as fragile human bodies were crushed like empty sacks by the violent change in pressure without mercy.

Apart from Xu Guan and Lou Feng, everyone vanished from where they stood. Ji Jue nearly failed to react, despite having kept the Transcendent Vision within his ring active the entire time.

“Move!”

The world seemed to grind to a sudden halt. Ji Xue seized his hand and raced forward as time slowed to one-tenth of its normal speed. Following close behind the others, she dragged him into the darkness inside the bank.

At the very front was Ji Liu, wreathed from head to toe in blood and fire, laughing soundlessly and wildly. He activated Storm Sweep without hesitation and charged into the nearest crowd before anyone could even scream, dragging two enormous weapons behind him as he unleashed a crimson storm.

As her elder brother, when he glanced back from the corner of his eye at his sister following close behind, a trace of envy and longing couldn’t help but surface in his gaze.

The Swarm Path was indeed terrifying, and its destructive power was astonishing, but it had been a choice made out of necessity.

The siblings came from the Ji family of Shangui Hall in Central City—the same family Ji Jue had once heard about from Lou Feng. The fact that they had managed to establish themselves in Central City, the Federation’s capital and home to countless powerful figures, spoke volumes about the Ji family’s resources, influence, and ability.

Their inherited matrix was Daylight, a compound matrix that was rare even among all matrix classifications. To use it, one needed excellent compatibility with multiple Supreme Benevolences at the same time. It pointed toward Origin, the Supreme Benevolence most skilled at control, and the Eternal Gate, the most mysterious and rare among all the Supreme Benevolences.

Should its user successfully awaken through the extraordinarily complex and difficult process of Supreme Resonance, there was only one ability they could obtain: control over time. Not only their own time, but also time within a certain range, and even the time of others.

Through the interference of the Origin Path, the powerful figures in their family could even accelerate the flow of time of hundreds or thousands of people at once by dozens or even hundreds of times. Unlike Transcendent Vision, which merely enhanced the soul’s perception, this was genuine time acceleration, free from air resistance, inertia, g-forces, or any other side effect that would normally accompany such speeds.

However, that level of mastery was still far too distant for someone like Ji Xue, who was at the Metamorphosis Realm. For now, accelerating time tenfold for just five people was already pushing her to the limit.