Chapter 37: 36, Dog-Faced Woman

36, Dog-Faced Woman

The stench of blood hung thick in the air, dense and unyielding.

Zhou Chang sniffed the suffocating odor, slapped his dull head, and staggered upright.

His gaze blurred as it swept over the rows of white dog carcasses hanging from iron hooks, searching for the source of the chopping sounds.

Beyond the freshly eviscerated dog carcasses, Zhou Chang saw a tall figure with long hair standing across from him, back turned.

The figure faced a wall caked in filth.

On the wall hung numerous iron knives glinting coldly.

On the chopping block before the tall figure lay half a dog.

The gender-ambiguous figure pressed one hand on the half-dog and swung a cleaver repeatedly, dismembering it.

The room hung with meat dogs, the mad figure hacking flesh, the dim and frigid chamber…

All of it stirred a faint unease in Zhou Chang.

A sense of unknown danger continually warned him.

He staggered off the “bed,” his bare feet touching the icy floor—

Zhou Chang instinctively looked down and realized he wore only a pair of shorts.

The plank he had lain upon was not a real bed, but a massive chopping block.

On the blackened block, suspicious bloodstains had dried into dark smears.

Between the cracks of the block, faint traces of rotting bone and flesh could be seen.

“Where are my clothes?”

Zhou Chang’s thoughts were fragmented, unable to form coherent lines—his mind jumped from one thought to another without connection.

He scanned the surroundings, and when his gaze fell again on the tall, long-haired figure facing away, he suddenly realized—he was still in grave danger, and this was no time to search for clothes.

Zhou Chang took a step, his body swaying unsteadily, toward the only door emitting light in the dim space.

Rows of meat dogs passed on either side of him.

From the hollow cavities of the dog carcasses, foul odors drifted.

He reached the doorway; below the threshold’s two steps lay a corridor paved with blue bricks, its surrounding rooms half-open, still shrouded in gloom, their interiors indiscernible.

The eaves on both sides squeezed out a narrow sliver of sky, pitch black.

Zhou Chang raised his foot to step over the threshold—his left thumb suddenly stabbed with pain, as if bitten by a rat, and a chill shot straight to his forehead, sharpening his awareness.

He heard a rush of wind behind him!

Without hesitation, he spun around—and saw—

The tall, long-haired figure, draped in a leather apron, held a gleaming dagger in one hand and pushed aside the hanging dog carcasses blocking its path with the other.

Iron hooks swayed; dog corpses collided.

The clatter of metal and the thud of flesh erupted into chaos.

From the hollowed cavities of the inverted dog carcasses, illusory, colorful aura streamed forth.

The aura filled the dim room, and in that haze, the pale-skinned dog corpses seemed to transform into human figures—old or young, all emaciated and withered.

The entire room was filled with disemboweled corpses, swaying on iron hooks, their hollow frames trembling.

The chill surging toward Zhou Chang’s forehead deepened.

Amid the swirling aura, the tall, long-haired figure suddenly drew near Zhou Chang’s face—he finally saw its face: beneath the long hair, it bore a pair of eyes with long lashes.

Beneath the round eyes, its nose was black, its mouth elongated.

—It was a dog’s face!

Grafted onto a human head!

“Sss—” The dog-faced woman bared her mouth, revealing a full set of canine teeth slick with saliva, letting out a hissing, threatening growl.

Her lips stretched wider, exposing blood-red gums; the skin beside her nose wrinkled into grotesque folds.

Looking at those foul, canine teeth, Zhou Chang thought of an old acquaintance—Li Xiamei.

Was there any connection between this dog-faced woman and Li Xiamei?

Had the Paper-Faced One brought him here?

As Zhou Chang pondered, the dog-faced woman lunged forward, driving her dagger straight at his chest!

Shhh!

Threads of crimson thought-essence drifted down from Zhou Chang’s third eye, coiling tightly around his left arm; his left palm opened wide—though slower to move than the dog-faced woman, his grip reached her wrist before her blade could strike—

His palm clamped onto her wrist holding the dagger, and the crimson thought-threads, tethered to his spirit, snapped taut with sudden force!

Zing!

Each thought-thread stretched like bowstrings.

From the bone ring on Zhou Chang’s left thumb, sounds of canine pursuit and tearing echoed: “Ha—sss—”

Roar!

Wo—”

He twisted his wrist, snapping the dog-faced woman’s wrist clean off!

“Aaagh!”

The dog-faced woman screamed, clutching her broken wrist and recoiling.

The dagger in her hand was now seized in Zhou Chang’s left hand.

Zhou Chang advanced step by step, dagger in hand, toward the dog-faced woman.

Threads of thought-essence drifted as his mind turned, drawn into the seven hollows of the bone ring on his left thumb, feeding his spirit into the seven “thoughts” within.

The seven thoughts within the ring fed back more “chill” to him.

His forehead grew colder, his mind clearer—but his limbs remained stiff, no longer as nimble as before.

—Throughout his advance, he walked on his toes, never letting his heels touch the ground.

“Who are you? Why try to kill me?”

Zhou Chang pressed forward; his shadow stretched behind him, stretching from his feet all the way to the doorway.

Around the long shadow, for a fleeting moment, seven dogs seemed to follow.

“You’re this weak? You want to become a demon?”

Zhou Chang asked again.

The dog-faced woman growled and whimpered, as if unable to understand him, offering no reply.

But as she retreated toward the corner, Zhou Chang caught a flash of cunning in her black eyes.

“Third sister! Third sister!”

The dog-faced woman shrieked in a shrill female voice!

As she opened her mouth, her intact arm seized a corpse hanging from an iron hook and hurled it straight at Zhou Chang’s head!

Zhou Chang saw the hollowed human corpse hurtling toward him; he dropped his raised dagger and sidestepped the flying body.

The next instant, the dog-faced woman charged again, gripping an iron hook.

Zhou Chang still did not understand the meaning of her cry “Third sister”—until the dog-faced woman drew near, when he suddenly heard the Paper-Faced One’s faint voice right behind him: “Sister, I’m here…”

Hearing that voice, Zhou Chang could almost see its smile.

The voice came no farther than an inch from his ear.

As the Paper-Faced One spoke, Zhou Chang’s entire body turned icy, freezing in place, utterly unable to move.