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37.93% The Founder of Diabolism / Chapter 11: Aggression (8)

Chapter 11: Aggression (8)

Amidst the dark, a fire lit up suddenly. Lan SiZhui ignited a Flame Talisman.

The fire from the Flame Talisman would not be extinguished by sinister winds. He used the talisman to light up the candle again, and the rest of the boys went to comfort the others. Under the light, Wei WuXian casually looked at his wrists. Another cut had healed.

After looking, he suddenly realized that there was something wrong about the number of cuts.

Originally, he had two cuts on each of his wrists. One healed when Mo ZiYuan died, and another healed when Mo ZiYuan's father died. The death of the servant, A-Tong, healed one more of the cuts. Adding it up, only three cuts should have healed, with the last cut being the deepest and most hate-filled one.

But, right now, no cuts remained on his wrists.

Wei WuXian knew that Madame Mo was definitely one of Mo XuanYu's targets of vengeance. The longest and deepest cut was probably saved for her. Yet, it had disappeared.

Did Mo XuanYu suddenly reach a point of epiphany and let go of his hate? That'd be impossible. His soul had already been sacrificed as the price for summoning Wei WuXian. Only the death of Madame Mo could heal the wound.

His gaze slowly moved towards the pale-faced Madame Mo, who recently woke up and was surrounded by everyone.

Unless, she was already dead.

Wei WuXian was sure that something was already possessing Madame Mo's body. If the being wasn't a spirit, then what was it?

Suddenly, A-Ding cried, "Hand… His hand! A-Tong's hand!"

Lan SiZhui moved the Flame Talisman to above A-Tong's body. Sure enough, his left hand had disappeared as well.

Left hand!

With lightning speed, Wei WuXian's mind became clear, with the being that was wrecking havoc and the missing left arms finally completing the puzzle. He promptly bursted out laughing. Lan JingYi snapped, "You idiot! How can you still laugh in a situation like this?" But, after a second thought, he knew that he was an idiot anyways, so what's the use of haggling over him?

Wei WuXian tugged at his sleeve, "No, no!"

Lan JingYi was annoyed, pulling his sleeve back, "What 'no'? You're not an idiot? Stop fooling around! Nobody has the time to pay attention to you."

Wei WuXian pointed at the corpses of Mo ZiYuan's father and A-Tong, which lay on the ground, and spoke, "These are not them."

Lan SiZhui stopped the fuming Lan JingYi and asked, "What do you mean by 'these are not them'?"

Wei WuXian stated solemnly, "This is not Mo ZiYuan's dad, and this is not A-Tong either."

With his makeup-covered face, the more solemn he looked, the more he seemed like an actual lunatic. Yet, surrounded by the dim candlelight, his words sent chills up everyone's backs. Lan SiZhui stared for a second, and asked in spite of himself, "Why?"

Wei WuXian exclaimed proudly, "Their hands. None of them were left-handed. I'm sure of this, because they'd always hit me with their right hands."

Lan JingYi spat, running out of patience, "What are you being proud for? Look at how complacent you are!"

However, Lan SiZhui broke into a sweat. Thinking back, A-Tong had used his left hand to strangle himself, and Madame Mo's husband also used his left hand to push his wife.

But, during the day, when Mo XuanYu was causing trouble in the East Hall, the two were rushing to get him out of there, both using their right hands. It was impossible for them to suddenly turn left-handed before they died.

Although he didn't know why, in order to figure out what the creature was, they had to think in the direction of "left hands." After Lan SiZhui realized this, he felt surprised and looked at Wei WuXian. He couldn't help but to think, suddenly saying this… It doesn't seem like a coincidence.

Wei WuXian only smiled. He knew that the hint was too deliberate, but he couldn't have helped it. The good thing was that Lan SiZhui didn't think too much about it either, and thought, anyways, if Young Master Mo was willing to remind me of it, he probably didn't mean any harm. His eyes moved away from him, passing A-Ding, who fainted from crying too much, and landed on Madame Mo.

His gaze traveled from her face down to her hands. Her arms were hanging down and were mostly hidden inside her sleeves, with only half of the fingers showing. Her right hand had fair, thin fingers, undoubtedly those of a woman who lived comfortably and never worked.

However, the fingers on her left hand were much longer than the ones on her right. They were also thicker. The knuckles were bent, full of power.

The hand isn't that of a woman's—it was a man's hand!

Lan SiZhui commanded, "Take hold of her!"

A few boys grabbed Madame Mo. Lan SiZhui said "excuse me" and was prepared to slap down a talisman when Madame Mo's left hand suddenly twisted in an absurd way, aiming for his throat.

Unless one's bones had been broken, it was impossible for a living person to twist their arm like this. She attacked quickly, and was extremely close to grabbing onto his neck, when at the same time, Lan JingYi shouted "hey" and threw himself in front of Lan SiZhui, blocking the hand for him.

A flash passed, and as soon as the arm grabbed Lan JingYi's shoulder, green flames ignited on his arm, making it loosen its grip. Lan SiZhui escaped death, and was about to thank Lan JingYi for it, when he saw that half of the latter's uniform had already been burnt to ashes, looking quite awkward. Lan JingYi took off the other half of his uniform and scolded, fuming with rage, "Why did you kick me, you lunatic? Did you want to kill me?"

Wei WuXian scampered away like a frightened rat, "It wasn't me!"

It was him. Inside of the Lan clan's uniform jacket, there were compact stitchings of incantations using thin threads of the same color, included for protection. However, against strong ones like this, it could only be used once before it became invalid. During the emergency, he could only kick Lan JingYi and use his body to protect Lan SiZhui's neck. Lan JingYi wanted to scold him again, but Madame Mo fell onto the ground, with all of the blood and flesh on her face being drained until only a thin layer of skin was left on the skull. The male arm that didn't belong to her had fallen off her shoulders. Its fingers bent freely, as if it was stretching or exercising, and the throbs of its veins were clearly visible.

This was the evil being that the Phantom Attraction Flag had attracted.


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