On the bed, Luo Di stared at Anna—the possessed girl before him, whose granular eyes and scorched skin now fully embodied the demon.
He had never entertained romantic thoughts, nor did he now. The only thing on his mind was how to break the deadlock and ensure that the "friends" he had so painstakingly made could survive.
Though their time together was limited to these two days, they were the closest same-age companions Luo Di had ever known in his life. Follow current novᴇls on n0velfire.net
He was unafraid of death. As a film enthusiast, he even felt a strange curiosity to experience what being possessed might feel like firsthand.
Gazing into the infernal chasm that was Anna's mouth—its exposed gums, jagged teeth, and two forked tongues positioned like welcoming hosts—Luo Di slowly leaned closer. He deliberately dragged out the motion, buying as much time as possible for Gao Yuxuan.
But Anna seemed to lose her patience.
Her full possession was complete, and the scorched patterns had spread across her entire body.
Swish! Razor-sharp barbs erupted from her wrists, slicing through the bindings.
Simultaneously, the silver needles embedded in her body were forcibly expelled, leaving her movements unrestrained.
In one swift motion, she wrapped her arms around Luo Di’s neck, her legs clamping tightly around his body. With inhuman strength, she pulled him onto the bed, pinning him beneath her.
Their bodies pressed together—soft, yet scorching hot.
“Don’t drag your feet~ Hurry up! I can’t wait anymore!”
Her arms tightened around his neck, pulling their faces together until their lips met.
Before Luo Di could even extend his tongue, two writhing appendages forced their way into his mouth.
They were more flexible than fingers—twisting, coiling, binding.
But rather than the expected moist softness, they were dry, scorching, and stripping.
Buzz…
A faint ringing filled his skull, spreading like dust and drowning out all sound.
In an instant, the world fell silent.
A peculiar sensation of falling enveloped Luo Di—not a downward pull of gravity, but a dragging force, as though every part of his body was gripped and yanked into an abyss.
He felt his consciousness being torn from his body in a visceral, bloody separation. It was as if he was plummeting toward an unknown realm, a descent into darkness and silence.
Then, the scent of sulfur invaded his nostrils and lungs, gnawing through his airways like rats wreaking havoc in his chest. The acrid, burning sensation jolted Luo Di awake.
This was no longer the small hill of the practice zone or the old house of the resurrected Jiangshi.
This was a world of ash and sulfuric fire rain: Hell.
The ashen sky burned with a jaundiced hue, while the ground oozed with an intense red—a liquid that seeped through cracks, seemingly drawn from the tormented humans suffering in Hell.
The once-charred earth became damp, pliable, even alive.
Rocks bulged and sprouted like trees, their branches shaped like grotesque human arms bearing fruit that oozed bloody pus.
The stench of sulfur was now laced with an enticing metallic tang, as if Hell itself sought to draw souls closer to its horrors.
Ashen yellow and vivid crimson—these were the colors of Hell.
And Luo Di, a newcomer to this infernal realm, had already become one of its blood donors.
His body was fixed to a towering, ten-meter-high rocky crucifix.
His limbs and neck were bound by dry, coarse tongues that writhed around him like parasites.
His flesh was lacerated in multiple places, blood flowing down the crucifix to merge with the crimson streams of other tormented souls.
Hiss!
The sound of burning.
Hell’s “rainy season” had begun, and sulfuric acid rained down in relentless droplets. Each one seared his flesh and dissolved his hair, the runoff mingling with the blood pooling below.
Once everything had drained from him—blood, strength, and will—Luo Di’s consciousness would perish here, leaving his body entirely at the demon’s mercy.
In such an extreme environment, human instincts would force anyone to close their eyes, focusing solely on enduring the pain. The acid rain, combined with the unbearable dryness, would render anyone blind in moments.
But Luo Di endured the agony, as though he had known greater pain before.
His “operation” was complete. The information had been relayed before his fall into Hell. Now, everything rested on Gao Yuxuan.
Given the chance to witness Hell firsthand, perhaps even to remain here forever, Luo Di resolved to observe as much as he could before losing consciousness.
Defying his biological instincts, he forced his eyes open to take in the sight of this infernal domain.
The Hell he saw was not entirely unfamiliar, reminiscent of the imagery in many B-movies he loved.
Yet Luo Di wasn’t overwhelmed by the sights. Instead, he strained to see as far as possible before his vision was taken from him.
“What’s that?”
In the distance, nearly a hundred kilometers away, stood a massive, pitch-black volcano.
Perhaps due to the sulfuric weather, the yellowish smoke billowing from the volcano’s mouth seemed to form an indistinct, peculiar pattern in the air—like a cryptic symbol.
But the symbol was too vague, obscured by the dense mist behind it.
At that moment, a drop of acid rain landed on Luo Di’s eye.
Despite his reflexive attempt to close his eyelid, the acid corroded it instantly.
His right eye shriveled, his vision blurring as he felt the searing pain consume him.
But Luo Di didn’t close his eyes. He stubbornly held on, determined to see the symbol clearly, even if he couldn’t explain why.
Strangely enough, though his vision had become so blurred that he could barely make out the ground beneath his feet, the once-indistinct symbol in the sky grew progressively clearer.
Ssss— Acid rain struck his other eye, quickly corroding it.
Now, with his sight nearly consumed by darkness, the entire hellish landscape faded from view.
And yet, in that very moment, Luo Di saw the symbol above the distant volcano with perfect clarity, as though the fog had lifted.
It was a unique mark, seemingly representing Hell itself.
Buzz! The ringing in his ears returned.
His body, drained of nearly all its blood, began succumbing to hypovolemic shock. Every symptom of impending death engulfed him as his consciousness waned.
The darkness of death loomed, ready to carry Luo Di to the other side.
The very last drop of blood fell from the tip of his toe.
Drip.
The sound, clear and distinct, echoed against the overwhelming silence of death. It was sharper than anything Luo Di had ever heard.
Buzz!
His eyelids, though supposedly corroded, instinctively reopened.
His blurred vision gradually sharpened, and the searing pain in his body gave way to an unprecedented sense of calm.
The scorching landscape of Hell was gone, replaced by the cold sterility of a single-bed hospital room.
The liquid dripping he had heard wasn’t his blood but the IV fluid suspended on a nearby stand.
Luo Di reached out to touch the call button strapped to his hand, and a nurse promptly entered the room to check on him.
As the nurse prepared to call the attending physician for a detailed examination, Luo Di suddenly grabbed her wrist and sat upright.
“Do you have paper and a pen?” he asked urgently.
“Y-yes…” Startled, the nurse instinctively handed him the notebook she carried. But then she realized the issue. “You shouldn’t be sitting up right now! Lie back down immediately!”
Ignoring her protests, Luo Di tore a page from the notebook. With shaking hands, he began to sketch the symbol from Hell that lingered in his memory—one that might vanish from his mind at any moment.