In his heavy sleep, Huai Shi felt himself falling.
Downwards, again and again into the darkness, as if many others were with him. Some screamed in terror while others numbly struggled, but soon, they all disappeared.
He plunged into water, as if sinking into a deep pool, yet felt buoyantly lifted as though without weight, drifting with the currents in the darkness.
It was as if he were already dead.
But it was also as if he were on the way to death.
It would be soon.
A voice told him so.
Yet death seemed endless, carrying him bit by bit into deeper darkness, until the icy tide delivered him to a muddy shore.
A hunched figure emerged from the gloom, looked down at him, then bent over to grasp his leg and drag him to a crude hut on the mudflat.
It knocked.
The door opened.
The stench of rotting flesh wafted out.
In the hut, the only light came from an oil lamp above a bloodstained operating table. An old man with white hair and wrinkles, wearing a mask, was intently dissecting the corpse before him, occasionally pausing to sketch on a diagram beside him.
Under the faint glow of the oil lamp, neatly preserved specimens on surrounding hooks dripped with embalming fluid.
The hunched figure pointed at Huai Shi and gestured towards the old man behind the door, as if asking for something.
The elder glanced at the youth on the floor with turbid eyes and slowly shook his head. "He's not quite dead yet. Why did you sell me a living person?"
"Soon, very soon..."
The hunched figure emitted a strange noise, like the mixed yowl of a dog and a fox. "He's close... the Source Substance is still... the Source Substance is still..."
"I can only give you half. Take it or leave it," the old man said, arms folded, watching indifferently.
The figure, seemingly enraged, shrieked loudly.
The old man remained unmoved, watching it dispassionately until it extended its hand in resignation. "Half, half..."
An ancient copper coin landed in its palm.
"If you have no other business, get out. Don't disturb my work."
The elder glanced at Huai Shi on the ground, frowned, then with effort, grabbed one of Huai Shi's legs and dragged him to the operating table, carelessly sweeping aside the dismembered corpse that had been there.
The sound of the figure closing the door caused Huai Shi's pupils to shudder slightly. He struggled to move, tried to speak, but only coughed up a mass of bloody froth.
"Not dead yet?"
The old man peeled back his eyelids, looked at the whites of his eyes in surprise, and with dry hands, prodded Huai Shi's bones all over, finally nodding in satisfaction.
"A very standard structure. Although lacking in strength, it should make a temporary spare part... if only the best effect could be maintained," he sighed.
Huai Shi's throat made a rasping sound, but it was no use.
"Do you have something to say?"
The old man looked at his trembling pupils, somewhat helplessly. "You're about to die. Wouldn't it be better to die peacefully? I've seen plenty like you. Since you've already crossed the Border and fallen into Hell, death is only natural, isn't it? Now, it's just that your Source Substance hasn't dissipated yet. What's there to complain about?"
He took out a bottle of Potion and poured it into Huai Shi's blood-foam-filled mouth. The intense spiciness and strange sour taste seared Huai Shi's throat. A sensation as scorching as molten copper coursed down it, like fire igniting his body, allowing him to let out a hoarse cry of pain.
"This Potion is from that Dog-headed Man. It's used for mummification, to maintain the vitality of organs at the brink of death. But don't even think about living; it just converts what little lifespan you have left into vitality to be squeezed out... This way, you can speak a few more words before you die, making my work a bit easier. How about cooperating a bit?"
The old man continued his work. "Remember, don't scream," he said. "I hate loud noises."
Huai Shi struggled to suppress his cries of agony, his body convulsing. Just as the old man had said, he somehow managed to produce a weak voice at the brink of death.
"...Where is this place?"
"In your terms, this is Hell, Depth Twelve. It's my Corpse Workshop, a place where I sell a few trinkets to customers. Soon, you'll become one of those trinkets."
As the old man spoke, Huai Shi, swallowing the taste of agony and gasping for breath, said, "How about we make a deal...? I actually quite want to keep living. Let me go."
"No way. I've already bought your corpse. How could you not die? Besides, you won't live more than a few minutes. If you die out there, I'll still have to drag you back in here."
Under the dim lamplight, the old man's eyes moved independently, one black orb on Huai Shi, the other, red, focused on where to make the incision. "Look at your body," he said. "Your Source Substance is depleted, your time was up long ago... Despite such a vigorous life force, it's already like Ashes, about to burn out completely."
Huai Shi stared blankly at the ceiling, covered in dried bloodstains. Agony had given way to numbness, and his voice became dry and hoarse. "I can't die here..."
"Why can't you die?" the old man asked seriously. "After all, everyone can die."
As if this had sparked his interest in conversation, he rambled on, "I've seen many people. They all think they're so important, playing the most special role in this world, but when they come here, they're all dead.
"After they died, the world continued to move on, the sun rose as usual, and reality didn't halt or stagnate because of their absence. So they were wrong; they were really no different from anyone else."
He pointed to the specimens one by one, explaining to Huai Shi, "This one was once a high and mighty figure; that one was a Justice Messenger who had slain countless evildoers; this one was a Dictator's Professor, under whose tutelage a tyrant became an enlightened leader; and this is the Dictator he taught... Yet, they are all dead.
"Since life is given, death is inevitable. Even for gods, it's the same. A hundred years, two hundred years, watching the world undergo vast changes... After a thousand years, even gods would find this world tedious.
"Compared to them, what are you?"
"But I still don't want to die."
Huai Shi struggled to blink, trying to clear the uncontrollable tears blurring his vision. "Look," he pleaded, "don't be fooled by my frail appearance; I'm actually quite tough. They say a man's tears are precious... I'm crying now. Can't you just let me go?"