Chapter 552 - 403: The Descent of Amaterasu

The night was a heavy black cloth, smothering the construction site until it was airtight.

The sense of oppression was overwhelming.

And at the site of the pit,

it now looked as if it had been cursed by a Demon, having transformed in an instant

into a hideous volcano, sunken into the earth from some deep abyss,

furiously spewing out blood-red sludge.

The sludge was as thick as if it were congealed directly from fresh blood,

its color vivid, yet possessing a sinister quality.

The stench of blood spread rapidly through the air as the sludge sprayed out,

shrouding the sky above the site in a bloody mist.

The acrid stench grew stronger, boring into one’s nostrils and making one gag.

This intense stench of blood was like Dark Magic, exuding a fatal allure,

driving the nearby stray cats, dogs, and all manner of birds out of their minds.

They had been hiding in dark corners, but now, as if possessed by Evil Spirits,

their eyes flashed with a feral madness as they charged heedlessly toward the construction site,

and plunged straight in.

Instantly, a startling transformation began.

In mere moments, these animals—the stray cats and dogs, the birds—that had just been normal,

suddenly had eyes that turned fiery red,

and they began to radiate a terrifying, frenzied aura.

They snarled and bared their teeth at the bizarre pit,

letting out guttural roars, their fur standing on end.

It was as if some terrifying presence lurked within the pit, one that could annihilate them in an instant,

instilling a terror that struck them to their very souls.

And yet, paradoxically,

an inexplicable yet powerful force of attraction seemed to emanate from the pit’s depths.

It bewitched them, and though they trembled with fear,

they couldn’t suppress the urge to charge inside,

as if it held a bloody feast upon which they could gorge themselves.

Meanwhile, a handful of Samurai and Ninja,

like the battered remnants of a defeated army fleeing from Hell, scrambled for their lives away from the pit.

Their clothes were tattered rags, soaked through with blood,

and every one of them was grievously wounded—a sight too gruesome to behold.

One Samurai’s right arm was severed at the shoulder, the wound a mangled mess of flesh and stark white bone.

Blood still dripped from the stump, spattering onto the ground like macabre flowers.

A Ninja, with both legs gone below the knees, dragged himself desperately across the gravel-strewn ground with his hands,

leaving a long, bloody smear in his wake.

They struggled desperately, each inch of movement seeming to drain the last dregs of their strength.

They hadn’t made it more than a few meters before the blood-red sludge raining from the sky fell upon them like deadly shooting stars,

slamming directly onto their bodies.

Instantly, the sludge SIZZLED where it touched their skin, and thick white steam billowed up,

as if it carried the searing heat of Hell’s depths,

mercilessly incinerating their flesh.

Agonized wails, shrill and desperate, tore from their throats and ripped through the night sky.

But their wretched screams didn’t last long.

Soon, they became like husks from which the souls had been ripped,

lying limply on the ground as their violent struggles slowly ceased.

The flesh on their bodies began to visibly rot and peel away,

leaving them in a ghastly state, as if they had been flayed alive.

Then, something even more bizarre occurred:

They began to slowly rise from the ground, their movements stiff and sluggish, their eyes vacant and lifeless.

All traces of their former vibrant emotions were gone, replaced by an eerie calm.

Bloody fluid constantly oozed from their eye sockets, which looked as if their eyeballs had been gouged out,

a particularly grim and terrifying sight in the dark of night.

They stared fixedly at the people around them,

and finally,

their dead, fish-like eyes locked onto Chu He and the others, who had just emerged from the corrugated iron shack,

looking as if they would pounce and tear them all to shreds at any moment.

"This... this is like something out of Resident Evil!"

Zheng Bolan’s face was as white as a sheet. His body trembled uncontrollably as he swallowed hard,

trying to moisten a throat that was parched from sheer terror.

His voice trembled noticeably,

on the verge of cracking into a scream, his eyes filled with terror and despair.

Zheng Xuezhen, on the other hand, was much quicker-witted. She remained silent the entire time,

but her eyes revealed her intelligence and alertness.

With light, silent steps, she gradually moved to Chu He’s side.

’She knew perfectly well that in this chaotic and terrifying situation,’

’the only way to survive was to stick close to the strongest person here.’

The night seemed endless now. A cold wind howled past like a razor’s edge,

whipping across the now-desolate construction site,

producing a hair-raising wail, like the cries of countless wronged souls or the roars of ravenous ghouls.

"Mr. Chu... are you... are you going to do something?"

Zheng Bolan asked, his voice trembling,

his words barely a whisper, but his eyes were fixed on Chu He, full of hope,

hoping to find some sliver of comfort and hope in him.

In an instant, the gazes of Zheng Qifeng, Xiang Xiufang, and Zheng Xuezhen all converged on him like spotlights,

landing squarely on Chu He.

Every eye was filled with profound hope, awaiting his response.

In this desperate predicament, Chu He was their only lifeline.

Chu He slowly shook his head. His movements were unhurried, calm, and deliberate. His expression was perfectly composed, showing not a single trace of panic.