Chapter Thirty-One: The Miserable Ma Yi

The tiger was somewhat stunned. The little thing that had been so small just moments ago suddenly swelled to match its own size—should it fight or not?

"Calm down, calm down," Ma Yi kept warning himself. Now, he was on the verge of losing control again. His mind was muddled, as if he might lose consciousness at any moment.

His right hand swung a slap at the tiger's head, but his left hand hurried to grab his right. Ma Yi seemed like a man with two souls battling for control of one body—half of him obeyed, while the other half rioted, trying to destroy everything within reach.

The tiger, flung a dozen meters away, was left dazed. The little creature, now so huge, was fighting itself. Its head was spinning from the slap, and in fright, it quickly backed away.

"Calm down, calm down, think of Liu Wen, think of Liu Xue, think of Ruhua, think of your family." Ma Yi forced his eyes open, using his left hand to restrain his right, which had begun to pummel his own body. He collapsed onto the ground, not because he did not wish to stand, but because half his body refused to obey him. Summoning all his will, Ma Yi looked at his restrained right hand and was horrified to see an eye, cold and pitiless, wide open on his wrist.

A chill shot down Ma Yi’s spine. Since when had an eye appeared on his wrist? The three eyes met. Around the wrist-eye, circles of black markings radiated like tentacles from a center, standing out starkly on Ma Yi’s golden body. Looking at the red and black patterns on his skin, Ma Yi began to understand.

Suddenly, he recalled that this eye was at the very spot where Liu Wen’s husband had once bitten flesh from his wrist. Could it be that if he tore out this eye, he would regain his senses? As the thought flashed through his mind, the eye on his wrist flickered with a savage glare. The black lines wrapped around the red ones tightened abruptly, then lunged straight for Ma Yi’s face. This strange eye shared a brain with Ma Yi—whatever he thought, the eye knew. Realizing Ma Yi’s intent to tear it out, the eye attacked him proactively.

The tiger glanced at the sinister black shadow enveloping Ma Yi and shuddered as if gripped by some ancient terror. Without a backward glance, it bolted into the forest, dragging its two mates along. In the blink of an eye, they vanished among the trees.

Ma Yi had no time to care about the tiger now. He felt as if his brain were about to split apart. The black shadow’s method was insidious, threatening to rip his mind asunder. Every nerve felt on the verge of explosion.

Clutching his head in agony, Ma Yi rolled on the ground, his teeth grinding so hard that one could hear a tooth shatter, if not for his wretched cries. Blood spurted from his mouth with each scream.

As the pain intensified, blood began to trickle from Ma Yi’s eyes, nostrils, and ears. Anyone could see that he was suffering a torment beyond words.

"I’ll make sure you don’t get away with it, even if I die," Ma Yi suddenly roared, lifting his head. His bloodshot eyes fixed on the eye on his right wrist, and with a mouth full of broken teeth, he bit down hard.

Pain lanced through him. The broken teeth, sharper than ever, pierced his flesh easily. Not only did his teeth ache, but his wrist throbbed, the agony reverberating in his brain. With all his might, he tore at his wrist, biting into a firm, elastic sphere.

He pulled with savage desperation, desperate to rip the orb from his wrist. Each yank sent spasms of pain through his brain, as though every nerve in his body was being slowly torn out, one by one.

His left ear was torn off by his own right hand in the throes of agony. Ma Yi’s frantic yanking made his right hand claw at himself wildly. After his ear came off, his right hand dug into the wound and began peeling the skin from his left cheek, fingers gouging into his left eye socket, bursting his eyeball in an instant.

As Ma Yi wrenched and tore at the grotesque eye on his wrist, his right hand dragged the muscles from the left side of his face, pulling them away from the bone. The more pain he endured, the more frenzied his efforts became; the more he tore, the more his brain screamed in agony.

Half his face was now a bloody ruin, the eye socket gory and exposed, pale golden bone laid bare. Through the gap where his left teeth had once been, one could see a black, fleshy eyeball clenched between his jaws, countless resilient black tendrils sprouting from it. These tendrils connected the eye to the muscles and bones of Ma Yi’s right wrist, and with each frenzied tug, more of them were dragged, strand by strand, from his flesh.

As Ma Yi continued to extract the tendrils, his right hand spasmed into grotesque positions but ceased its assault on him. Seizing the moment, Ma Yi gripped the wriggling tendrils with his left hand, preventing them from burrowing into his nose. Despite the agony in his brain and his now-paralyzed left side, he ground his teeth and chewed relentlessly.

Suddenly, a jolt shot through his brain. The pain vanished in an instant. He watched as the black lines receded from his right shoulder to his wrist, and his left hand held the squirming tendrils more tightly.

With a raw scream, Ma Yi summoned all his strength, biting down on the elastic eyeball. The resilience of the eye was reaching its limit, but so was Ma Yi’s bite force.

Seeing more black tendrils about to escape from his right hand, Ma Yi wrapped his left arm around them, yanking with all his might. A cold liquid dripped onto his tongue—bitter, sour, and burning.

With a final wrench, the black tendrils were pulled completely from his right arm. Finer than hair, they were tough as alloy, but Ma Yi tore them out, skin bursting and golden blood spraying everywhere. The tendrils still writhed, trying to burrow into his left arm.

"You won’t succeed," Ma Yi snarled, tightening his grip. More of the strange liquid flooded his mouth as the tendrils constricted his left arm like blades, finally wedging against the golden bone.

Like a bubble of chewing gum, with a faint pop, a rush of cold liquid poured down Ma Yi’s throat. The once-elastic eyeball in his mouth shriveled, losing all resilience.

The tendrils binding his arm slackened, falling away like silky hair in a commercial.

Ma Yi dared not loosen his bite, terrified of any last surprise. His one remaining eye stared unblinking at the black tendrils in his left hand, fearing they might suddenly attack, burrowing into his nose or eyes and into his brain. He had no strength to endure another assault.

His teeth ground the withered skin, but no more liquid flowed. The tendrils, turning gray, began to crumble. The skin pouch in his mouth grew dry and brittle, shattering at the slightest touch.

At last, Ma Yi spat it out. A gray-white pouch lay quietly on the ground. As he opened it, he saw that this eye-like creature had a tiny brain the size of a soybean, stuck to the inside of the pouch, quivering slightly even after its container was destroyed.

With his left hand, Ma Yi picked up the little brain, crushing it into pulp with his fingers. Still unsatisfied, he continued to grind it, even after nothing remained on his fingertips.

Exhaustion washed over him. This ordeal was more harrowing than any battle he had ever fought. Who knew how long this sinister thing had lurked in his body, perhaps growing all the while, slowly infiltrating every part of him with its tendrils. He had never noticed, perhaps because it had not yet reached his mind, or because its tendrils were not long enough, or perhaps it had been too impatient—if it had truly taken its time, one day it might have possessed his entire body, and Ma Yi would have been utterly lost.

Being invaded by such a foreign entity inevitably damages memory and control. Ma Yi’s berserk states likely began when the tendrils reached his brain, his body lashing out blindly under their influence. As for why he felt nothing, only the eye-creature would know—Ma Yi could not fathom it.

He lay quietly on the ground, not just unconscious but with his mind itself temporarily shut down. Only his heart continued to beat, strong and steady, as the cold liquid he had swallowed was gradually absorbed in his stomach.

Three mice crept quietly to Ma Yi’s side, watching in amazement as the tendrils on his cheek and wrist merged seamlessly back into muscle and skin. This, they thought, must be the healing ability of the supreme boss.

The mice carefully gathered the shreds of Ma Yi’s flesh scattered around, divided them into three, and devoured them. Ma Yi was healing himself; he had no need for the leftover scraps.

Now, Ma Yi’s regenerative powers surged. His golden skin grew translucent, his muscles crystalline, his organs, brain, heart, and bones all seemingly vanishing.

The three mice retreated a little. The ground before them appeared empty, but a wild, formidable presence lurked there, unseen and unsmelled, but undeniably felt—Ma Yi lay right there.

The little mice waited patiently in the empty space, standing guard. After a day, the pressure increased. After two days, they had retreated over thirty meters, the sense of threat even stronger.

On the third day, the three mice formed a triangle fifty meters from where Ma Yi lay, his aura radiating outward unchecked. Even a tiger five kilometers away sensed the danger, raised its head, and, feeling unsafe, fled with its mate.

On the fourth day, the aura finally calmed. The three mice stood upright seventy meters out, watching alertly—not for Ma Yi, but to guard against any creature that might harm him now. Their intelligence was limited; they did not realize that Ma Yi’s mere presence was deterrent enough—no creature with any sense would dare approach, all wishing only to hide and not be discovered.

Not until the seventh day did the mice, now a hundred meters away, see Ma Yi’s transparent form gradually reappear, his body shrinking and his aura subsiding. Only then did they slowly approach.

Stretching languidly, Ma Yi opened his eyes at last. Yet he did not get up. He reviewed everything that had happened, searching for anything forgotten. Thankfully, although he could not say how long he’d been out, the names Liu Wen, Liu Xue, Ruhua—all those familiar, beloved names surfaced in his mind. But… what did they look like?

“Damn it, why can’t I remember what any of them look like?” Ma Yi scrambled to his feet, brow furrowed, desperately trying to recall the faces of those dearest to him. Disappointed, he realized he remembered everything that had happened with them, but their appearances eluded him utterly.

“Forget it. Once I’m home, I’ll recognize them.” Ma Yi comforted himself. He was sure that once he returned, all would come back to him; the loss of their faces from his memory was surely the work of the black tendrils, damaging part of his brain as they withdrew. Now, after healing, new tissue had grown, but some memories were lost.