After my sister was bullied to death, I claimed the souls of her tormentors and meticulously crafted a terrifying game for them. I set the rules: only the victor could escape. So, they eagerly snatched up blades, plunging them mercilessly into their companions’ chests. A mist of blood coated the room, and the winner strutted out, head held high. Behind him, the mangled remains slowly reassembled, re-forming. The one who’d already drawn their last breath crawled out of the blood-soaked floor, chasing after the victor. The door closed. The door opened. The tormentors met again, their bodies fresh, ready to begin a new round of slaughter. They would feel pain, they would feel death, they would be reborn, but they would never escape this horrific game. I am an Envoy of the Ghost King, traversing the realms of the living and the dead, specializing in escorting souls. Because of this authority, I could occasionally roam the mortal world. I often lingered near my sister, the one I worried about most. She hadn’t been doing well for the past two years. She spent three years of her life and countless hours studying day and night, just to step into the halls of university. But what awaited her wasn’t a bright, warm future, but cold, bloody bullying. My sister was beautiful, but sometimes, beauty alone is a death sentence. Because of her looks, a privileged jerk, Damian Thorne, set his sights on her, demanding she be his girlfriend. My sister refused. She thought such things required mutual consent. But Damian wasn’t willing to let go of an easy target. After several failed attempts to corner her, he became enraged. From then on, he launched a two-year campaign of vengeful bullying against her. They used compromising photos of her to threaten her against calling the police. My sister could only secretly confide in her university advisor, but even the advisor didn’t dare cross someone with money and power. So, clutching a final shred of hope, my sister called our parents. All she got was a chilling scolding: “Why are they *only* picking on you and not anyone else? You must be the problem!” Isolated and helpless, my sister despaired. She could only swallow her bitterness and pain, silently praying for graduation day to arrive quickly. But she would never make it.
My sister died. Her killers were her university classmates. I watched as they tied her up with ropes, strangling her until she was on the verge of suffocating, then releasing her, only to tighten the ropes again, tormenting her repeatedly. After several rounds, my sister collapsed to the ground, too weak even to beg for mercy. I saw Damian Thorne press his foot onto her face, his eyes full of contempt, as if looking at a piece of garbage. He sneered, “Dare to refuse me? You little bitch, you love to act all pure, don’t you? Go on, act! Why aren’t you saying anything now?” His accomplices, Ryan Miller and Chloe Hayes, chimed in with sneering laughter. They paid no attention to my sister, who was coughing up large mouthfuls of blood. By the time they finished their insults and laughter, she had already stopped breathing. My heart ached beyond measure, yet these animals showed not an ounce of fear or regret. Damian even spat in disgust. “Damn it! What a jinx!” They stuffed my sister into a sack, shoved it into the trunk, and drove towards the forest. As their footsteps drew closer, a deep pit, already dug, appeared in the hidden depths of the woods. It was then that I realized: everything today wasn’t an accident, but a premeditated murder! They brutally raised their shovels, smashing my sister’s face beyond recognition. They took all her belongings that could identify her, then raised their weapons to chop and cut. They threw her shattered body into the deep pit and buried it. Finally, they drove away, laughing loudly. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and rain poured down. It washed away the traces of their evil deeds but could not cleanse their filthy souls.
Countless times, when they were beating my sister and spewing venomous words, I had questioned the Ghost King. “Why can’t I just claim the souls of these demons and cast them directly into the deepest pits of hell?” The Ghost King merely replied that they hadn’t yet committed unforgivable atrocities. But now, I looked at the token that materialized in my hand and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The abominations these animals had committed were so heinous, even the Ghost King couldn’t stand it anymore. I floated beside their car, hearing them still bragging. The two accomplices, Ryan and Chloe, were recalling the details of the crime, terrified of being brought to justice. But Damian Thorne casually dismissed their fears: “You two cowards, don’t forget my dad is the richest magnate in this state. Even if we get caught, he can get us off. What’s there to worry about?” So, that was the source of his arrogance. Did money truly mean you could disregard human life? I scoffed, lightly shaking my soul-binding bell. Under the cover of the pouring rain, a black mist gradually enveloped the speeding car. The surrounding temperature plummeted. The people inside finally realized something was terribly wrong. The car stopped. The smiles on their faces froze, and their widened eyes filled with terror. They saw ghostly hands emerge from the black mist, moving with eerie speed straight towards them. They screamed in agony, but it was just a dying struggle. The ghostly hands tore their souls from their bodies, then dragged them into the black mist, vanishing without a trace. Everything returned to calm. The car started moving again, but the three occupants stared blankly, like puppets on strings, manipulated as they drove into the distance. The tormentors thought money could fix everything, but in the world of souls, only right and wrong truly matter. All the evil deeds they had committed would be weighed on the scales. The sword of justice had long been suspended above their heads.
【Attention players, you have entered a horror game.】 【Current Dungeon: ‘Kill the Killer’】 【Number of Players: 3】 【Game Objective: ?】 As the robotic voice faded, the pitch-black room instantly lit up. On the polished floor, three people, tightly bound, writhed violently. Like three maggots. Their eyes were covered with black cloth, and their tongues were pressed tight by gags, allowing only muffled whimpers to escape. I stripped them of all their senses, leaving them there to truly feel the bone-chilling terror. Once they tired of thrashing, their tears and drool mixing to soak the floor, I casually tapped an invisible point in the air. Immediately, their restraints were released. The blinding lights made them squint for a while before they could finally force their eyes open to survey the empty, enclosed room. Damian Thorne was the first to lash out: “Who’s playing games with me! I’m telling you, my dad is the… Argh!” I didn’t want to hear him yap, so a blade materialized out of thin air, mercilessly slicing through his shouting tongue. The severed piece fell to the ground, and blood instantly gushed out. The intense pain made him writhe and howl on the floor. The other two, Ryan and Chloe, were so terrified by the sudden gore that they collapsed. A faint smell of urine wafted from beneath them, spreading throughout the room. I scoffed. Not long ago, they were laughing as they dismembered a body. Why weren’t they scared then? Indeed, a blade only hurts when it cuts *you*. Damian twitched uncontrollably from the pain, but the blade didn’t vanish. It hovered around the other two, as if examining its next prey. Ryan and Chloe trembled with fear at the eerie sight, struggling to prop themselves up and frantically banging their heads against the floor in all directions. “Who are you, great being, please, please spare us! We’ll do anything you ask!” Words of pleading spilled from their mouths. My eyes burned a little. Once, my sister had also knelt on the ground, desperately begging them to spare her. And what was the result? A cold smile played on my lips, and my mocking voice echoed through the room: “Is that so? You’ll do anything?” As I spoke, the blade seemed to come alive, flying to hover near Ryan and Chloe before dropping to the floor. “Then kill him. Let me see your sincerity.” I watched them stare disbelievingly at the weapon. One of them, Ryan, asked tremblingly, “But, murder is against the law…” I laughed out loud. “Is it? Hmm, I suppose it is. Well then, since you’re so law-abiding, you can just die with him!” A sharp voice rang out, directing the weapon. It instantly pointed its tip at the two of them, as if it would plunge down any second. Ryan and Chloe were paralyzed with fear. They scrambled backward, hands and feet flailing, quickly begging for mercy: “No, no, no! We’ll do it! We’ll listen to you!” The blade dropped to the floor again, emitting a sharp clang. “Alright. But opportunities are rare. Only one of you two can leave alive. How about a little competition?” Dominated by the fear of death, the “close allies” from moments ago instantly turned on each other, scrambling to grab the blade. In nature, it’s not uncommon for creatures of the same species to kill each other over territory, mates, and so on. Humans, naturally, can’t escape this instinct, only we’re bound by various restraints. But now, under the shadow of death, they bared their true fangs. Unfortunately, these two were a man and a woman, and the man’s strength was clearly superior to the woman’s. After he brutally kicked Chloe in the head several times, she lay on the ground, bleeding profusely, unable to get up. She could only stare with bloodshot eyes as Ryan picked up the blade and slowly walked towards Damian. At this point, the fear of death had overcome the pain. Damian propped himself up with his hands, inching backward. Without his tongue, he couldn’t speak, only shook his head frantically, his eyes full of pleading. But Ryan clearly had no intention of letting him go. He cornered Damian against the wall, leaving him nowhere to retreat. Then, he raised the blade and plunged it forcefully into Damian’s throat. Blood gushed out, soaking Ryan’s clothes. Damian clutched his neck, collapsing to the floor, making indistinct gurgling sounds. But soon, he fell silent. Only his eyes remained fixed on Ryan, filled with resentment and defiance. Ryan couldn’t bear to look at him, muttering, “Damian, don’t blame me, I just wanted to survive!” As if that could soothe his conscience. “Great one, almighty one, I… I killed him. Please let me go!” He threw away the weapon, loudly begging me to fulfill my promise. But this was my domain. All rules were set by me. “Oh? I seem to recall saying that only one person could leave alive today, didn’t I?”
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