Chapter 316: Fear Itself Becomes Enjoyment

The handcart's wheels went "creak-creak," their axles clogged with blackish-red gunk, rotating circle after circle, looking just like "minced meat" in a mixer.

The next second, they jammed and stopped turning.

Lou Rui kicked the stalled wheel in agitation; his boot was instantly coated in wet minced meat and scraps.

He tugged irritably at his collar, then spat a mouthful of phlegm toward the handcart, cursing a string of obscenities:

"Those bastards in the Security Bureau make a filthy mess and wash their hands of it, leaving us to do the work — fuck their mothers."

Lou Rui's features were coarse; rough skin hid years of accumulated anger and resentment.

His eyebrows were thick and unruly, like two clumps of untrimmed weeds; his eye sockets were abnormally sunken, as if they might spew flame at any moment — his whole face gave the impression of a violent, overbearing temper.

He cursed fiercely a few more times; seeing the handcart still wouldn't budge, his face darkened further and he kicked it several more times.

The corpse pile stacked like a small mountain on the handcart swayed and tumbled; the topmost body slammed onto the ground with a dull "thud," its twisted, ferocious dead face turned upward, revealing a Prison Guard uniform from the Security Bureau.

The timid Prison Guard following alongside couldn't bear to watch and whispered an admonition:

"Is it possible the Security Bureau colleagues don't want to wash their hands of it either — they're just all laid out flat?"

Hearing this, Lou Rui's anger flared even hotter; the corner of his eye twitched, his eyes bulged round, and he shouted in a rage:

"When it comes down to it, they're just slacking off, aren't they?"

The timid Prison Guard stammered, unable to speak; meeting Lou Rui's fierce gaze, he shrank his neck involuntarily, feeling the choke marks left on his throat ache faintly again.

He lowered his head and walked over, bent down, and dragged the corpse off the ground inch by inch, then laboriously lifted it onto the handcart bit by bit.

Filthy blood trickled down the corpse as it was dragged, gradually soaking his hair, yet he didn't utter a sound, just silently continued this heavy work.

Lou Rui didn't help either; he just stood to one side watching with a cold laugh, urging them on incessantly:

"Hurry up, every single one of you drags your feet — when can we get off shift? I don't want to work overtime in the prison tonight; the stench in this air is too overpowering."

Probably driven by the desire to get off early, Lou Rui finally cursed his way forward and helped lift the corpses together.

But his mouth grew even more grating: "A bunch of useless trash, dead heavy every one — didn't know to lose some weight before dying, really damn bad luck."

Suddenly, a trembling, hoarse voice cut in: "Then you must have lost weight in advance, right?"

Lou Rui instantly let go; the corpse fell again, dragging the unresponsive Prison Guard down with it.

The timid Prison Guard was pinned under the corpse, looking timidly at the speaker — that face looked a bit familiar, like a... senior who used to order him around when he first reported to the prison?

Only later, for some reason, that person was transferred to another Security Bureau, and he took over the other's position; he remembered this person seemed to be called... Guan Zhong?!

Lou Rui turned his head to look; upon recognizing the newcomer, he habitually reached out to pinch the other's throat, while the corner of his mouth curled into a savage grin:

"So it's you, scared the hell out of me — but you showed up just right, I've got some work here that needs your help, you wouldn't refuse me, would you?"

The scene before him seemed to overlap with the nightmares in his memory; Guan Zhong's body froze in place instinctively, letting that rough palm clamp around his throat once more.

Hearing that familiar voice, the one that appeared again and again in his nightmares, Guan Zhong's teeth chattered, his voice trembling even more: "Okay, I'll help you."

Lou Rui was very satisfied with Guan Zhong's compliance; he gently released his palm, yet failed to notice that within that trembling voice, mixed in with the fear, were threads of a morbid excitement:

"But, I've helped you so many times — this time, can you help me with something first?"

Lou Rui froze on the spot, almost suspecting his ears had produced a hallucination.

His voice unconsciously rose a few notches: "What did you say? I didn't hear clearly — say it again!"

Guan Zhong took a deep breath, then slowly raised his palm, pushing Lou Rui's hand away from his throat bit by bit.

The moment the backs of their hands touched, a distinct layer of goosebumps rose on Guan Zhong's arm; his whole body couldn't help but shudder with a chill.

Guan Zhong would never forget the first time he pushed Lou Rui's hand away — the surging agony that rushed through his body; he couldn't even make a begging sound, because his throat had been squeezed mute.

Of course, even if he could make a sound it would have been useless; back then no one would pay attention to the faint cries for help from the corner, because that is a component part of this cold prison.

But today is different; today he isn't alone, he has backup.

Most importantly, Feng Mu told him that right now is his Reward Time.

"During my Reward Time, even relived fear feels incomparably enjoyable."

Guan Zhong's thigh trembled, his hip muscles tensed, and his body actually produced a strange pleasure, like the refreshing sensation of holding back a release.

He bit his lip hard until blood oozed at the corner of his mouth, then gently licked the bloody taste; his face showed an indescribable morbid eeriness.

"I'm saying, we now have evidence suspecting you of involvement in this morning's Security Bureau riot, so we'd like to invite you to come have a cup of tea with us — hope you can cooperate with our investigation."

Lou Rui's eyes went round; his brain hadn't yet digested the meaning of the other's words, but the anger in his heart had already erupted like a volcano.

He lifted his foot and kicked viciously at Guan Zhong's lower abdomen.

The latter stood still, not dodging in the slightest, and was kicked straight over onto the ground.

Feeling the pain from his lower abdomen and the cold of his back hitting the ground, Guan Zhong lay there, turning his head to glance at the timid Prison Guard pinned under the corpse.

Then, under the latter's incredulous gaze, the corner of his mouth slowly split open, widening more and more, the smile tearing his lip muscles until blood seeped out — Guan Zhong laughed wildly, hahaha.

That laughter was hearty and unrestrained, full of release and mockery, but drilling into Lou Rui's ears it sounded like ghost howls in the night wind, making his heart inexplicably tighten.

As if a gloomy chill rose from the soles of his feet, rapidly spreading to his back, every hair standing on end.

Lou Rui's violent movements subconsciously froze; he looked down at Guan Zhong lying on the ground, the corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably: "You, are you... crazy?"

Guan Zhong looked at Lou Rui's frozen expression and laughed even more joyfully; his lips were stained a moist, deep red by blood, shockingly good-looking.

(End of Chapter)