Chapter 42

Night deepened, and the thick fog merged with the darkness. Looking out the window revealed only pitch black, as if the cabin in the desolate Small Town had been shrouded in a black curtain—stifling and dank.

The fog was heavier than during the day, signaling that the night would not be peaceful.

Jie Jialiang calmly drew the curtains, took off his trench coat and tossed it onto a chair, then unbuttoned his shirt as he walked into the Bathroom.

He hadn’t even turned on the water yet when he heard the faint sound of running water.

It was the person next door taking a shower.

【Tsk tsk tsk, that’s gotta be the Pretty Boy next door~】

【The Bathrooms are right next to each other; I can hear it so clearly. Sounds amazing.】

【If it were me, I’d press my ear to the wall right now.】

【You think Big Bro Jie is like you? He wouldn’t do something so sleazy.】

【Little Nian turned off his livestream, so I had to come here just to listen and satisfy my craving. Please, Big Bro, listen a bit longer!】

Jie Jialiang paused his actions and chuckled helplessly. He spoke softly to the Live Stream Room: “Eavesdropping isn’t good. I need to shower too, so I’m turning off the livestream first.”

Ignoring the flood of gifts and pleas in the Live Stream Room, Jie Jialiang quickly shut it down.

Without the noisy barrage window, the Bathroom seemed even quieter, and the sounds from next door became clearer.

Through the thin wall came sounds vivid enough to imagine the impossibly beautiful youth standing naked under the shower, letting the water glide over every inch of his skin.

Even the small glimpse of skin exposed beyond his clothes was as soft and white as jade, tempting beyond measure. Who knew what delights hid beneath…

In the Bathroom, the sound of a man swallowing and panting rose.

Jie Jialiang stood there until the water sounds next door stopped. Then, as if his soul had been drawn away, his body moved on its own, following the youth out of the Bathroom.

He stood fixed in place by the wall.

After a moment of silence—likely the youth dressing—he went straight to bed.

The old wooden bed frame creaked faintly under the slender figure’s weight, and then nothing more could be heard.

Jie Jialiang lingered a while longer before finally resuming the task he’d delayed for nearly an hour.

He showered for a long time. When he emerged, there was no steam; his body was ice-cold. His eyes, freed from glasses, churned with unrelenting heat.

He lay on the bed, trying to dispel the endless stream of lascivious thoughts flooding his mind, but he couldn’t calm his heartbeat.

In the deathly silence, he could hear the person next door turning over—and even catch hints of their slightly heavy breathing.

The night amplified hidden dark sides, letting private desires grow like vines, unstoppable once started.

Night deepened further. The rundown cabin couldn’t block the invading chill; cold air seeped in waves.

The moment it permeated, Jie Jialiang’s eyes snapped open. He drew the Weapon hidden in his sleeve.

He heard faint noises from downstairs, drawing closer, then pacing the second-floor corridor.

Hunting for prey?

Jie Jialiang tugged at his lips and closed his eyes again.

Suddenly, a short, soft moan rose.

“Mm…” It was hazy like gauze, sweet as nectar, numbing the listener to their core.

It flitted by dreamlike, making one wonder if a seductive ghost was luring souls—or if it was just an illusion from pent-up desire.

“Don’t…”

Then came a sob-choked murmur drifting in.

Jie Jialiang sat up and looked toward the next room.

–

In the quiet room, the Bedside Lamp extinguished without cause.

Heavy fog surged through the window cracks, invading the space.

Something damp, sticky, and ice-cold—like a snake or some Tentacle—slithered in from the foot of the blanket.

It first brushed his toes and instep, then coiled tightly around his ankle, rubbing back and forth.

Whether from cold or itch, the youth deep in sweet dreams seemed to sense it and shrank his foot, curling his legs as he rolled onto his side.

But the sensation vanished only briefly before wrapping up again, slipping into his pant leg from the ankle.

The thin sleep pants were pushed to his knees, exposing his soft calf, which landed in an invisible palm. It kneaded with moderate pressure, soft flesh squeezing through the fingers.

“Mmm…”

The teased youth furrowed his brows, burying his face in the pillow, and kicked his legs twice to shake off the disturbance.

But that hand stuck like a sucker to his skin, impossible to dislodge.

If anyone else were in the room, they’d see a bizarre sight.

On the bed meant for one, the blanket bulged high, its outline like some tall, sturdy beast buried inside, moving.

No view of what hid beneath, but the youth’s once-peaceful face outside twisted, an unnatural flush blooming on his cheeks. He bit his lips, spilling tiny whimpers.

From this restless dream, he sweated slightly, filling the blanket with fragrance.

Besides the scent, heavy panting emanated from within.

The breaths were too rough for a human—more like some massive creature.

As the odd sensation climbed from his calf, Zhong Nian jolted awake. His long lashes trembled nonstop, eyeballs darting beneath closed lids.

He had long escaped the clinging nightmare, but his body wouldn’t obey, pinned by some heavy force. He couldn’t move or open his eyes.

It had to be the Devil… He’d been targeted.

But he couldn’t even cry for help, let alone flee—like fish on a chopping block.

If he weren’t a newbie without a prop or two, he wouldn’t be this passive.

A chill licked across his belly.

Terrified, Zhong Nian contracted his abdomen and despaired: I’m done for… The Devil’s going to eat me—starting from the stomach?

No, that would hurt so much.

Driven by fierce survival instinct and fear, Zhong Nian struggled fiercely and actually broke free from the “ghost oppression,” regaining control.

His first instinct was to scream for help, but a massive palm immediately clamped his mouth and nose, making breathing hard.

He tried to kick, but the weight on him was too great and heavy; his legs wouldn’t lift. Pushing at the head on his belly was futile, like an insect shaking a tree.

In the chaos, he touched something cold and hard as jade, curved—like…

Trembling, he looked down with fluttering lashes and saw a goat’s head.

And what he gripped was a goat horn.

The Devil slowly raised its head, lake-blue irises with black slit pupils staring at him.

“Mmm…”

The shocked youth’s eyes widened, color draining from his face. He burst into frightened tears.

His cries muffled in the Devil’s palm, barely audible. Only tears vented his terror, wetting his lashes, reddening his eyelids. He shook pitifully.

The Devil stared a moment, then extended a scarlet tongue, licking a tear before it slid into his hairline.

Seeing the youth cry harder, the Devil retracted its tongue and examined him.

Zhong Nian didn’t know what the Devil scrutinized—maybe where to bite first.

“Very afraid?”

The Devil spoke, in an adult male’s voice—husky, low, magnetically strange.

Though human words, they sounded like ancient poetry or mystic incantations invading the soul.

Zhong Nian froze, even his tremors halting.

Then, the goat head before him shifted into human form.

Silver-gray hair, coldly pale-to-bluish skin, handsome male features—but black goat horns and slit pupils betrayed its inhumanity.

Not like any teammate—wholly unfamiliar.

“Better like this?” the Devil asked again.

Mouth covered, Zhong Nian couldn’t speak, only stared in fright.

“Why shaking again?” the Devil murmured, leaning to lick a fresh tear from the eye corner. Unsated, thin lips pressed the youth’s eye, sucking damp lashes, then tonguing more.

“It’s been so long… so long since I encountered such a delicious human.” The Devil sighed.

Zhong Nian squeezed his eyes shut, fearing they’d be eaten.

The Devil licked elsewhere, consuming sweat from forehead and neck, savoring it. His eyes gleamed with excitement.

“No—truthfully, you’re the most delicious. Unique, so addictively so?”

Eyes met; Zhong Nian saw the madness and heat, holding back tears in vain as they flowed.

But the Devil wanted sweeter, more fragrant fare.

He released the youth’s lips, pinching jaw to force it open, then thrust his tongue inside.

Zhong Nian couldn’t even scream; his mouth filled with the long, thick tongue.

Cold, alive-like, it stirred his mouth, sucking saliva, stealing warmth.

“Mmph… mmph mmph…”

Zhong Nian couldn’t close his mouth, forced wide. Hands pinned overhead, he endured the suffocating ravage.

The Devil’s greed seemed ready to extend down his throat to his guts. Terrified, Zhong Nian dared not resist.

Under extreme fear and suppression, breath-starved, he neared fainting.

At the last moment, the wooden door burst open with a boom that shook the entire Cabin.

Half-delirious, Zhong Nian strained to look. A tall figure stood in the doorway, holding what looked like a gun.

“Bang!”

Muzzle flash; the Devil on Zhong Nian took a headshot, dispersing like black mist—leaving no trace, as if it were all a nightmare.

The room fell silent.

Zhong Nian struggled upright and made out the rescuer.

Hooded and masked tactically, only sharp, cold eyes showed.

Unexpectedly, not Jie Jialiang who promised aid during voting, but the most aloof Lone Wolf Player.