Chapter 237: Wanderers Have Their Own Code of Honor

(T/N: Content Warning ⚠ — This chapter contains explicit violence, graphic gore, and themes of psychological torment and trauma. Please proceed with caution.)

Murong Juhui had been holding back screams the entire time.

Or perhaps she hadn't been able to hold them back at all.

The horrifying sensation of flesh being torn apart. The guard screamed endlessly. Her ears felt clogged, as if submerged in water. Were her own screams mixed in, or not? Murong Juhui couldn't tell.

The dismantling of a person was filthy and gruesome.

Even if it was an enemy she hated so much she wanted to kill him.

Yet, amidst this dreadful place, this entirely dreadful and horrifying world, dreadful time, dreadful self, dreadful memories, dreadful everything—a clean voice whispered, seeping sweetly into her ears.

"You did very well. Next, shall we try... the torso? Yes. Shall we open it up? Right here, like this—"

A long, beautiful white finger traced a line across the guard's—the guard bastard's—belly fat. As if tipped with a sharp blade, the skin split open smoothly, revealing everything beneath.

Yellowish, lumpy fat tissue was exposed.

After the finger passed, the internal, pulsating organs were laid bare, only to be quickly submerged in the shallowly pooling blood.

"Uuugh."

"Oh dear. Young Lady Murong, you seem to have a weak stomach," Qing said.

"No, it's not—I'm fine. I can endure it."

No, I can't show weakness.

Murong Juhui desperately fought back the nausea.

Young Lady Ximen is... warm... she came to save me... if I seem pathetic, she'll abandon me. Just like everyone else did.

"It might look disgusting, but if you look closely, you can appreciate how negligently these things are made. They call them the five viscera and six bowels, don't they? The five viscera are..." Qing continued.

"Ugh, bleegh..."

Murong Juhui finally couldn't suppress the surging nausea. Thin, pale stomach acid, empty of food, spilled into the open abdominal cavity.

The guard, doused in acid, spasmed with jerky, malfunctioning movements.

Amidst the convulsions, his already dislocated and dangling arm swung wildly, slapping weakly against Murong Juhui's cheek—

Ah, no...

"Hic, haaah... I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Sorry for dirtying you. I'm sorry..." Murong Juhui cried.

"Oh dear. It's alright. It's alright. Yes, it happens. These dog-like bastards should at least provide a chamber pot out of basic human decency," Qing soothed.

Murong Juhui struggled to get off Qing's lap, out of her embrace. No. No.

"It's alright. It happens. It's not Young Lady Murong's fault. Young Lady Murong has done nothing wrong," Qing reassured her.

"Let go! Let go of me! No. I'm sorry, please let me go. I'm dirty. I—"

"Shh. Young Lady Murong is not dirty. You told me yourself, didn't you? That you didn't do anything dirty or despicable. That you endured well. You're admirable."

Such warm affirmation. Tears threatened to spill over. Yes, if I listen well, if I just listen well like this—

"Now," Qing said, her voice gentle. "He's starting to fade. Shall we watch this vermin die together? The one who tormented Young Lady Murong was such a pathetic creature. There's no need to be afraid."

Murong Juhui looked at the dying guard.

His limbs revealed overturned muscles and white bone in places, his chest and abdomen were wide open, and he was barely clinging to life, making rattling, phlegm-choked sounds with each breath.

"There. Look. Look at his eyes," Qing prompted softly. "They're desperately pleading for help, aren't they? Isn't it amusing? How such a wicked man begs so wretchedly and earnestly for help when facing his own death."

"Hhhp...!"

Murong Juhui could only desperately swallow her screams as she met the frantic, bloodshot gaze pleading for life.

Long ago, Qing had received top marks in her Introduction to Psychology course.

This wasn't because Qing was an enthusiastic, studious, or particularly insightful student. Rather, in the graveyard of failed course registrations known for its notorious boredom, where attendance hovered around fifty percent, she simply succeeded in staying awake, which accounted for the other fifty percent.

If that psychology lecturer saw Qing now, they would surely beat the ground, regretting it for ages.

Counseling a client involves healing a wounded heart through unconditional acceptance, affirmation, and empathy.

Among these, the biggest taboo is offering alternatives. If things could be solved that way, the person wouldn't have been hurt in the first place.

Qing got confused and did the exact opposite.

She was trying to be considerate in her own way.

Isn't revenge supposed to feel empty if the climax is weak, making life feel pointless?

Rather than killing him easily, she should derive maximum comfort from watching him suffer.

Since people tend to mistakenly assume their own thoughts are universal, Qing believed that the gruesome anatomy lesson of the Heavenly Slaughtering Star would also be helpful to Murong Juhui.

"Young Lady Murong, are you okay now?" Qing asked.

However, if a violent anatomy lesson could heal the heart, Murong Juhui would have needed to be born under an ominous star herself, perhaps not the Heavenly Slaughtering Star, but at least an Earthly Killing Star or Earthly Ominous Star.

It might have been more cathartic if Qing had let her strangle the enemy herself, but Qing's attempt at kindness ended up being just another form of torture for Murong Juhui to endure.

"Yes, uh-huh, I, I did well, right?" Murong Juhui stammered. "I did everything you, Young Lady Ximen, told me to. You won't abandon me, right? You're not leaving me?"

"Abandon you? Don't say such things," Qing replied. "Of course, Young Lady Murong was a bit annoying—"

"I was wrong! I'm sorry. I apologize. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It was all my fault, me? No, you! It's all your fault! If it weren't for you! It's because of you! Take responsibility! Of course, you have to take responsibility!" Murong Juhui shrieked, suddenly frantic.

Oops. Qing felt a jolt.

She hasn't quite come to her senses yet.

Can't even take a joke.

Wait, if she acts like this, what does that make me?

Qing let out a deep sigh.

At that, Murong Juhui flinched violently.

Then, she scrambled forward, practically scraping her knees, and clung to Qing's legs again.

"No, no. I didn't mean it," Murong Juhui pleaded. "Don't leave me? Please? I only have Young Lady Ximen now. I, I did everything you asked. I'll listen well from now on too. What, what should I do? Right, that thing, you like breaking things, right? Should I, should I smash his head? Or if I gouge out his eyes, will you believe me then?"

"We don't play with corpses," Qing stated flatly.

"Ah. Then, then what should I do? Just tell me, I'll do anything..."

Qing pulled Murong Juhui into a tight embrace again.

"I'm sorry. It was a joke," Qing said softly. "I will absolutely never leave you, so don't worry. There, there. Stop crying."

"Yes. Yes. Yes." Murong Juhui sobbed into her shoulder.

Qing started to sigh again but forced herself to stop.

Well, she must be terrified I'll leave her right now.

"Hmm. We need to get back above ground first," Qing said. "Young Lady Murong, could you wait here for just a moment? I need to clear out some Blood Cult members on the way out—"

"Go, go together!" Murong Juhui cried out, clinging tighter. "You can't leave me!"

"But it will hurt again if those bastards use the Gu Poison. You don't like being in pain, right? If you just wait a little, I'll clear the path quickly—"

"It's okay! It's okay, let's go together. I can endure the pain. I'll endure it, so don't leave me, don't leave me alone..."

Qing scratched her head roughly.

Why is she being so troublesome?

"The poison the Gu emits is painful, but it's not life-threatening," Qing confirmed. "Are you sure you can endure it?"

"Yes! I can endure it. So—"

"Alright. Get up. Let's talk once we're out of here."

At that, Murong Juhui took Qing's hand and staggered to her feet. After taking about two trembling steps, she swayed and stumbled. Qing quickly caught the falling Murong Juhui.

"Young Lady Murong? Your feet..." Qing noticed. "Those dog bastards, pulling out someone's toenails—"

"It's okay. I can walk. It just hurts a little," Murong Juhui insisted through gritted teeth.

"How can you walk with all your toenails pulled out? This won't do."

"No, I can walk. I can walk!"

"Calm down," Qing said firmly but gently. "Yes, Young Lady Murong can walk, but it would hurt too much. I'll carry you on my back. Here."

In the end, Qing secured Murong Juhui to her back, tying her firmly with the guard's tunic and trousers.

Hmm. This is it, the greatest invention in human history that amazed the world and earned its respect, the pride of the Korean people—the podegi.

Why does this keep happening to me?

According to what she'd heard, the Unit Leader hadn't been seen since last night, and the Vice Leader had left after the morning incident, claiming he had things to do. It was the perfect time to sneak Murong Juhui out.

Qing had gotten a rough description of the underground paths, but finding her way based on verbal directions wasn't easy.

Still, Qing wasn't particularly worried. If she didn't know, she just had to find someone who did. Smart people always make use of others.

Focusing slowly, searching for any sign of presence, she wandered casually until she finally found her target.

"Wh-who's there! H— Mmph!" the Blood Cult warrior managed before Qing stomped her foot, sending a pitch-black shadow surging forward with incredible speed to clamp over his mouth.

However, the Gu Poison wasn't controlled by words.

A searing heat flared in her solar plexus, meaning—

"Aargh...!"

Along with a pained groan near her ear, sparks suddenly flew in Qing's own head.

When a person's pain exceeds the level the conscious mind can endure, they reflexively grab onto something and squeeze with all their might, trying to crush it.

Enough to damage the tendons in their own hand.

It was monstrous strength, ignoring the upper limits the brain usually imposes unconsciously to prevent injury.

Since Murong Juhui was being carried on Qing's back, a rather large handle happened to be located in a very convenient spot to grab.

"Urk."

Qing's vision went white.

The agony rivaled the Lithe Grace Refinement training.

Because female martial artists have more vital spots than men.

In response, Qing naturally clenched her own hand, which happened to be clamping down on the Blood Cult warrior's lower jaw to stifle his cries.

Ultimately, the Blood Cult warrior's upper and lower jaws were crushed, shattered, and his breath was cut off instantly.

And Qing collapsed too.

Murong Juhui was a martial artist, and worse, one who used twin swords. Since she handled each sword with only one hand, her grip strength was far greater than that of ordinary swordsmen or saber users.

That immense grip strength, amplified by monstrous power exceeding its usual output, was currently squeezing one of Qing's vital spots.

Qing couldn't even cry out to let go; she just collapsed and twitched.

The Blood Cult warrior was dead, but the Gu Poison was still alive and sending stimulus signals. It was a horrifying agony that lasted for about fifteen minutes until the Gu finally realized its host was dead and calmed down.

This was karma.

It was payback for forcing Murong Juhui through that gruesome, compulsory killing experience.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I apologize," Murong Juhui sobbed weakly against Qing's back. "Don't leave me, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to, you can hit me, ah! Young Lady Ximen, you like pulling out fingernails, right? If Young Lady Ximen wants, I have ten of them..."

It was impossible to get angry like this.

Qing discreetly checked her front.

Doesn't look like anything was torn off. But did something burst?

It kept throbbing. It hurt so much. Was this okay? It hurt... really badly...

"Haaa. It's okay," Qing managed, her voice strained. "And who spread such a horrible rumor that I like pulling out fingernails? Of course, I do like it, but still."

Qing ripped off the dead Blood Cult warrior's sleeve and stuffed a wad of fabric into Murong Juhui's hands to prevent a recurrence.

Thanks to one trial and error, the second attempt was successful.

After the next Blood Cult warrior received a parasite removal procedure that involved a hole being punched in his stomach while controlling the Gu Poison, he was so moved that he kindly changed his profession to guide, a real-time career change unfolding before their eyes.

"If you go out this way, it leads to a corner of the Northwest Road," the guide said, trembling. "Um, so, now, as promised..."

"A promise is a promise," Qing agreed coolly. "But, I didn't make a promise with Young Lady Murong, did I? Young Lady Murong? If you would."

At that, Murong Juhui, still on Qing's back, reached out with both arms and snapped the Blood Cult warrior guide's head clean off.

Leaving behind the Blood Cult member whose neck was twisted over ninety degrees, Qing briskly climbed the stairs.

(T/N: A brutally grim chapter. Murong Juhui’s complete mental collapse and Qing’s twisted idea of “comfort” were genuinely hard to read through at times. Very heavy and disturbing material this time.)