Translator: CinderTL
The plan had been flawless, but when it came time to execute it, Jiang Cheng hesitated.
Gazing down at the obese man from above, memories flooded his mind. To be fair, Fatty had treated him well.
Truly well.
Though his motives might have been self-serving, he was diligent, obedient, and remarkably self-aware. Whether in reality or in the Nightmare, he had always proven reliable.
It might seem like Jiang Cheng had led them through the Nightmares, snatching survival from the jaws of death time and again, but only he knew that without Fatty, he would have struggled to make it this far.
To put it more bluntly: if Fatty hadn't earned the little beggar's trust in the ancient book, they would never have obtained the true Mystic Pouch, and everyone would have died.
This had nothing to do with skill.
Jiang Cheng had replayed that mission countless times, concluding that without detailed intel, both Crimson and the Night Watcher would have reacted the same way he had: by trying to capture the little beggar and using every means possible to pry open her mouth.
They wouldn't have considered approaching the situation from the perspective of this foolish Fatty, genuinely caring for her and even trying to save her a meat-filled bun.
Whatever happens in a Nightmare is erased without a trace upon leaving.
Besides, they didn't have the patience for that.
They had come here to survive, not to do charity work.
And the result of such actions was complete annihilation.
Jiang Cheng tried to see things from Fatty's perspective, but after a few attempts, he couldn't stand it anymore.
It made him feel incredibly stupid.
Like he was being ground into the dirt.
He couldn't fathom how this Fatty had managed to survive this long with that massive head of his, instead of being sold off to some remote mountain coal mine.
Did even someone like this have someone backing him? Were they in the scrap metal business?
His hand tightened and loosened on the knife hilt. Jiang Cheng told himself to wait a little longer. It wasn't that he couldn't bring himself to do it; he just hadn't found the perfect angle yet.
Fatty snored contentedly, completely oblivious to the fact that he was only a step away from becoming a corpse.
Finally, Jiang Cheng moved. His hand gripping the knife hilt no longer trembled, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes, erasing all the images that had flickered before.
Everything... ends here.
Jiang Cheng slowly leveled the knife, aiming the tip at Fatty's throat. He took a deep breath and glanced one last time at Fatty's face.
But to his surprise, Fatty groggily opened his eyes, clearly startled by Jiang Cheng's sudden appearance at the foot of his bed. "What the hell, Doctor? What are you doing standing here?"
Jiang Cheng was momentarily flustered. The knife tip he had been about to thrust trembled. "I..."
Dawn was breaking. Fatty saw the knife in Jiang Cheng's hand, and his pupils constricted. His expression turned strange.
He couldn't wait any longer.
Just as Jiang Cheng steeled his resolve to strike, Fatty suddenly leaned forward, staring at the knife with a look of surprise. "Doctor, where did you find this knife?"
"See? I told you it wasn't lost. The cleaver was right where it should have been in the kitchen. No one touched it. How could it have gone missing?"
"You must have just left it lying around after you used it," Fatty grumbled, "and you were too stubborn to admit it. Now I had to use that pathetic fruit knife to cut potatoes."
With that, Fatty reached out to take the knife from Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng's tense arm finally relaxed, and Fatty took the knife.
"Doctor," Fatty said, testing the blade with his hand, "this knife is incredibly sharp. You're up so early today—did you go out to sharpen it?" He looked up at Jiang Cheng.
It was still before 6 a.m., and the sky outside was just beginning to lighten.
Based on Fatty's understanding of Jiang Cheng, he wouldn't normally be up this early for no reason. Usually, he'd wait until Fatty had prepared breakfast before deigning to get out of bed.
"Yes," Jiang Cheng said, his face grim, forcing a smile. "I went out to sharpen the knife."
Fatty gave him a knowing look and said, "Doctor, you must have taken advantage of the dim light before dawn to sneakily spend that fake ten-yuan bill, didn't you?"
"That old man who sharpens knives gets up so early just to earn a few hard-earned coins," Fatty frowned. "It's not right to take advantage of his poor eyesight. We can't do things like that."
With that, Fatty got up, put on his coat, and pulled out a few five- and ten-yuan bills from his pocket. "Doctor," he asked, tilting his head, "has the knife sharpener gone far? I'll go return the money to him."
"It's okay," Fatty said. "I'll just tell him you took the wrong money. When I realize it, I'll come get the rest from you." With that, he grabbed the knife and clattered down the stairs.
Jiang Cheng was left standing alone in the shadows, where the light couldn't reach. He lowered his head, lost in thought.
When Fatty returned, bewildered, he found Jiang Cheng back in his bedroom with the door closed. "Doctor?" Fatty called through the door. "I couldn't find the guy. Since I'm up anyway, I thought I'd go to the market. The vegetables are freshest in the morning."
"Oh, and I found the cleaver. I can make ribs now. Besides the bok choy, what else do you want me to add?" Fatty suggested. "How about yam, Doctor? It's good for your kidneys. You should eat more of it. It's perfect for what ails you."
After a long silence, Fatty frowned and called out again, "Doctor?"
"I'm not hungry," Jiang Cheng's voice replied, sounding utterly exhausted. "Just make your own portion."
"Oh." Fatty finished dressing and went downstairs.
Fatty also felt the Doctor had been acting strangely today, as if he were hiding something. But Fatty scratched his head, unable to make sense of it.
In the end, he simply stopped thinking about it. After all, the Doctor wouldn't harm him.
He must have his own reasons, and Fatty's brain was better off not getting in the way.
With this thought in mind, Fatty grabbed a vegetable basket from the kitchen, opened the gate, and headed toward the market.
If the fish was fresh today, he'd stew one for the Doctor at noon. The Doctor seemed to have enjoyed it last time, and it might even help sharpen his mind, Fatty thought as he walked toward the sunlight.
"Hey," Huai Yi's voice cut through Jiang Cheng's thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"
Though it seemed like Jiang Cheng had been lost in thought for a long time, in reality, it had only been a brief moment.
Huai Yi noticed Jiang Cheng's vacant stare and quickly snapped him out of it.
They were in the middle of a desperate escape, yet this man was daydreaming. Huai Yi sized up Jiang Cheng, thinking he might be a bit off.
Was he fearless, or had he simply never faced death before?
"What time is it?" Jiang Cheng asked in a low voice.
There hadn't been any movement outside for a long time. The Multi-headed ghoul seemed to have vanished into thin air.
"I don't know," Huai Yi replied softly, peering through a crack in the gate. "Haven't you noticed? Our sense of time has been completely disrupted since the Multi-headed ghoul appeared."
(End of the Chapter)
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