The cannibal demon was worth so many Experience Points. Dean was not surprised. If he hadn’t gotten involved himself, Merck and his group would have only ended up being played by their informant, instead of being so easily beaten down.
Dean had realized one thing: whether it was the previous ’Toy Serial Killer’ or this cannibal demon, they both adhered to a bizarre style, easily attracting the attention of the ignorant. And it seemed they both aspired to trample the police underfoot, make a name for themselves, and become legends in the criminal world. Their methods were somewhat similar to the entertainment industry’s star-making.
The Lucifer Game Organization is now so brazen, Dean thought. Could it be that they feel their wings have hardened and are starting to pave the way for a public appearance?
"Hopefully, that kid Annorth will bring me some unexpected delight later on," Dean muttered to himself, picking up the nearly two-hundred-pound cannibal demon and examining him closely.
From the outside, the cannibal demon looked like a disheveled vagrant with long, messy hair, a beard like weeds, and appearing to be at least in his forties or fifties. But upon closer inspection, one would notice the harmonious proportions of his features, the smooth corners of his eyes, and his dense hairline. His seemingly frail body was actually sturdy and muscular beneath his wide clothes. This was a man no older than twenty-five who, with a simple makeover, would be quite handsome. This slovenly appearance was merely his disguise.
Upon searching him, Dean found an inconspicuous black phone, a large-print book as thick as a human finger joint, and a black badge the size of a dove’s egg on the cannibal demon. Besides these, there were no knives or firearms on his body.
Dean first opened the large-print book and discovered it wasn’t truly a book, but a ’stamp album’—only, the ’stamps’ this person collected weren’t actual postage stamps, but photos of victims. Each page featured a photo of a victim tied to a chair. Beneath it, exquisite script detailed the victim’s general information, personality analysis, reactions as they neared death, and an evaluation after being "tasted."
Dean counted. This seemingly thick book contained only nineteen photos, mostly of young girls in their prime, with a few young men not much older. There were Caucasians and Asians, but no Black victims. Dean couldn’t tell if they were lucky or had been discriminated against again...
Putting the book back, Dean picked up the black badge. It looked antique, with an intricately carved monster resembling a religious demon, its gaping, blood-red maw wide open as it roared outwards. Unfamiliar with it, Dean could only memorize its appearance.
He put the badge back on the cannibal demon and finally picked up the inconspicuous phone. Before Annorth had left, he had told Dean that the Lucifer Game Organization’s online presence was divided into "insiders" and "outsiders." "Insiders" were those with official positions who received special communication devices gifted by the organization. "Outsiders" were visitors, or rather, fresh blood. These people could initially only pay to read content or participate in certain "cleansing games." Only when individuals from the Lucifer Game Organization on the dark web deemed a visitor valuable, and after they passed a review without issue, would the organization proceed to the next step of contacting and recruiting them.
These special communication devices provided by the Lucifer Game Organization often housed two operating systems: one overt and one covert. The overt system appeared as an ordinary phone display—basic yet not outdated. The covert system required a special password to access and enabled encrypted internal communication, safe from being traced or recorded by telecom companies. Such a device required robust and sophisticated technical support, akin to spy gear.
Without the password, the phone in Dean’s hand was nothing more than a brick. He tried to examine the phone’s call history and found nothing but a mobile game on it. Clearly, the cannibal demon lying on the ground had just used the phone’s covert encrypted system for communication.
"I was thinking of letting you die a simple death," Dean said, grabbing the still-unconscious cannibal demon. "But my curiosity about who was communicating with you compels me to resort to some methods I’d rather not use for your interrogation!" He hoisted the demon up and carried him across the manor grounds towards Manor No. 34.
The night grew darker. Under the moonlight, a faint white mist rose, drifting with the chill of the late-night breeze, forming a dreamy scene like rippling white gossamer in the sky.
Dean dropped the cannibal demon to the ground. He ran his palms over the contours of the man’s muscles, bent his hands, and with a sudden, forceful insertion, grabbed two protruding muscle groups and twisted them in opposite directions.
The unconscious cannibal demon actually opened his mouth, emitting a sound of severe, irrepressible panting from the unbearable pain.
The human anatomy is intricate. The skin, flesh, the various tissues beneath, bones, internal organs—the distribution of pain nerves in these areas all differ. Dean’s technique was to stimulate areas of the cannibal demon’s body with highly developed pain responses, inflicting the most direct and intense pain possible without leaving external injuries. Follow current novels on novel※fire.net
When the pain reached a certain threshold, the cannibal demon suddenly snapped his eyes open. His eyes were slightly dazed, his face contorted as he tried to turn his neck to survey his surroundings. Suddenly, a large hand fiercely grabbed his throat. The hand lifted his almost two-hundred-pound frame, forcing his eyes to meet Dean’s—emotionless pupils staring out from beneath a pale mask.