It was a snake’s face. Its eyes were incredibly elongated, unlike a mask or any other face covering; it looked like a real snake’s visage.
“What is that?” Wei Tuoma stared at him in terror as Zhang Haiyan slowly descended from the tree with a strange, crawling motion.
“What are you?” Wei Tuoma tried to raise his gun, but that snake face seemed to possess a kind of magic that made it difficult for him to even move.
“What do you think I am?” Zhang Haiyan stood up, his tall figure and the eerie smile on his face circling around Wei Tuoma.
“Are you a demon? Are you the one who made a deal with me?” Wei Tuoma suddenly realized he was looking at a true demon, the master of the dark magic that had made him taller, turned him into a man, and helped him escape punishment time and again.
Zhang Haiyan had no idea what he was talking about, but he reveled in the fear of others. The fear radiating from Wei Tuoma was astonishing, and it excited him immensely. “You have mistaken me.”
He first became addicted to this kind of fear after he ate a person. It was during a famine that had reached a point of hopelessness when Zhang Haiyan’s father cooked the starving little daughter of their neighbor. It was the first time they had cooked a human, and his father was inexperienced, resulting in a pot full of hair and teeth stuck between them. But Zhang Haiyan enjoyed it immensely.
At that time, the village had split into two factions: those who had eaten humans and those who had not. By eating a human, Zhang Haiyan instantly transitioned from one camp to another. When he walked down the road, the uncles and aunts who usually cared for him looked at him with strange eyes.
It took him a long time to realize that it was fear.
Those who had eaten humans and those who had not were two different kinds of beings. Those who had eaten humans did not belong to the human realm.
However, everyone feared themselves, which was actually pleasurable, especially when you wanted to do something you normally couldn’t. No one would come out to stop you. It felt as if you were absolutely free, as if you had complete control over your entire world for the first time.
Wei Tuoma looked at him, “So what exactly are you?”
Zhang Haiyan turned to look behind him, causing Wei Tuoma to immediately turn around, only to see Ma Dexun standing behind him with a knife.
Wei Tuoma quickly realized, “It’s you. Why are you here?”
He instinctively wanted to draw his gun, but when he raised his hand, he discovered that all his fingers had vanished. He looked down to find his fingers, only to see Zhang Haiyan had circled around from under his arm to stand in front of him, holding his fingers out in front of him. Wei Tuoma’s fear reached its peak; he wanted to escape but found himself completely unable to move.
A pen was lodged in his cervical spine, severing all his nerves.
He could only sit there, fearing that soon he wouldn’t even be able to sit still.
According to Ma Dexun’s memoirs, he didn’t see how Zhang Haiyan accomplished these things at all. Everything was too surreal, almost like a comedic performance.
Zhang Haiyan turned to look at Ma Dexun and stepped aside to let him pass.
Madesun trembled as he approached Weitomah. Weitomah looked at him and grinned, “I understand now, you’re here for revenge. Is a yellow-skinned child worth all this? You could easily adopt another group. Remember, you are a priest; you cannot kill. And when I confess to you, God will forgive me.”
Madesun grabbed the cross hanging on his chest, tearing it off, wanting to throw it aside. Zhang Haiyan came up behind him, holding his hand down and placing the cross into Madesun’s pocket. “Don’t take it so seriously,” Zhang Haiyan whispered, gripping Madesun’s wrist and bringing the knife to Weitomah’s neck. “Human skin is tough; if the knife isn’t fast enough, it won’t cut through. When knocking, use your wrist, elbow, shoulder, waist, and ankle to exert force. Imagine yourself as a whip, generating power from your ankle, increasing your strength each time. When you reach your wrist, cut across the neck, severing both the trachea and the artery.”
Madesun nodded, staring intently at Weitomah. Weitomah began to feel fear: “You are a priest; you cannot kill. You will go to hell.”
“It’s fine, he will confess to other priests, and God will forgive him,” Zhang Haiyan said.
Zhang Haiyan noticed that Madesun’s body was stiff, unable to strike. He leaned close to Madesun’s ear, adjusting his vocal cords, and spoke in a girl’s voice, “Daddy.”
Madesun’s eyes immediately turned red. Zhang Haiyan supported his wrist, spinning around, and with one swift motion, he cut Weitomah’s artery directly.
Blood sprayed out far and wide, and countless horseflies instantly flew over, circling above Weitomah.
“The trachea, the trachea wasn’t cut!” Madesun shouted.
Zhang Haiyan sighed, “The first time was already good.” He walked over to find Weitomah collapsed in the mud, covered in horseflies, blood gushing from the artery.
“Who are you?” Weitomah glared at Zhang Haiyan, who removed the pen from the back of Weitomah’s neck, aiming it at his heart. “Are you annoying? Why should I tell you?”
“Don’t kill me, and I’ll tell you a secret,” Weitomah said with his last bit of strength. “In the rainforest, there’s a huge secret that Herman forbids us from sharing. Don’t kill me, and I’ll tell you.”