Untitled Episodechapter 2
912 Words
Chapter 2: The Scuttle in the Dark
The darkness was absolute. It wasn't just the absence of light; it was a physical weight, pressing against my skin like cold oil.
[Warning: The 'Guest' is hungry.] [Detection: 4.2 meters above. Moving at 1.5m/s.]
I didn't breathe. My "Trace-Less Breathing" passive kicked in, a cold hush falling over my lungs. Above me, the scuttle-thud, scuttle-thud of many legs across the vaulted ceiling made the air vibrate.
"Help... me..." a wet, choking sound came from across the table. It was Princess Mei.
A sudden, sickening crunch echoed through the hall. A high-pitched scream was cut short by a sound like a wet sponge being squeezed. Something had dropped from the ceiling.
[Notification: Princess Mei has been 'Disposed.'] [Bonus: +50 Sins for witnessing a Royal Death.]
"Show yourself!" Second Prince Zhen’s voice was hysterical. A flash of golden Qi ignited in the corner—a desperate, flickering torch. In the brief light, I saw the "Guest." It was the Emperor’s shadow. It had detached from the corpse and grown tall, its limbs elongated and spindly, with the dead Emperor’s white-star eyes embedded in its chest.
"Zhen, shut up!" I hissed, but it was too late.
The Shadow-Guest vanished. Another crunch. The golden light extinguished.
[Notification: Prince Zhen has been 'Disposed.'][Bonus:+50 Sins for witnessing a Royal Death. ]
I was alone in the dark with a shadow-beast and my unconscious brother, Wei Long. But then, the system pinged with a new notification that made my stomach drop.
[New Lifeform Detected: The 'Locked Calamity.'] [Location: Beneath the Table—Left.]
I froze. I wasn't the only one hiding under here.
I reached out, my fingers brushing against cold, heavy iron. Not a table leg. A chain. I followed the metal link until my hand touched something warm, wet, and shivering.
I pulled a small, hidden latch I hadn't noticed before, and a tiny "servant's light" flickered on—a dim, guttering candle used by the floor-scrubbers.
In the weak light, I saw him.
He was curled in a space no larger than a dog crate, bolted to the floor directly beneath the Emperor’s feet. This was the Male Lead, Yan.
He was a mess of scars and filth. His silver hair, matted with blood, fell over eyes that had been blindfolded with a strip of jagged, spirit-suppressing cloth. Heavy "Dragon-Slaying" spikes were driven through his collarbones, chaining him to the very foundation of the palace. He was the "Imperial Hound," a fallen war-god kept as a literal footstool for the Emperor to rest his boots on during dinner.
[Identity: Yan (The Nameless Sword)] [Status: Extreme Malnutrition / Mana-Sealed / Humiliated.]
He sensed my presence. His cracked lips parted, baring teeth that had been filed sharp. "Back to kick me again, little prince?" he rasped, his voice a ghost of a roar. "Or did the Emperor run out of wine and decide to drink my marrow instead?"
My heart twisted. As a "disposal specialist" back in my world, I knew what it was like to be the invisible trash everyone stepped on. But this was a different level of cruelty.
"I'm not the Emperor," I whispered, my voice shaking as the shadow-beast’s claws raked the table above us. "And he’s dead. Everyone is dead."
"Then why are you here, Wei An?" Yan sneered, though a cough racked his thin chest, spraying blood onto my silk robes. "Come to mock the man who once burned your cities? Look at me. I am a dog in a cage. Do your worst."
He flinched, expecting a blow. It was a reflexive, pained movement—the flinch of a man who had been beaten every day for a decade.
[Warning: The Shadow-Guest has detected a 'Full Heartbeat.'] [Time to impact: 00:03]
The table above us groaned as the beast landed on it. Dust and splinters rained down on us. Yan didn't even try to hide; he just closed his sightless eyes, waiting for the end.
"I’m not kicking you," I said, my voice turning cold as I looked at the "Dragon-Slaying" spikes in his chest. "I’m the guy who cleans up the mess. And right now, the Emperor is the mess."
I reached into my Void Pail and pulled out a jagged piece of the salt-treated silver tureen.
"It’s going to hurt," I warned.
"Everything hurts, little rat," Yan spat, his pride still flickering like a dying coal.
I didn't hesitate. I jammed the silver shard not into the beast, but into the keyhole of the Dragon-Slaying spikes.
The system screamed a warning. [Penalty: Attempting to release a Calamity-rank prisoner will result in—]
"Shut up," I snarled at the blue screen.
I twisted the shard. The lock shivered. Above us, the Shadow-Guest lunged, its claws shredding the heavy oak table like paper. The wood exploded downward.
In that split second of falling debris and certain death, the spikes snapped.
Yan’s hand—thin, bone-white, and trembling—shot out from the dark and caught the shadow-beast’s throat mid-air.
The blindfolded man stood up, his spine cracking as he unfolded his tortured frame. He was a head taller than me, even half-dead. He turned his head toward me, the black blindfold soaked with fresh blood from his exertion.
"You released the hound, Wei An," Yan whispered, a terrifying, beautiful smile spreading across his face. "Now, give me a reason not to eat you first."
[Relationship Unlocked: Master & Monster.] [Frenzy Meter: 100%]
- Writer
