Chapter 64: Pick That Up for Me, Thanks
What Tang San did not know was that, at this very moment, the teacher he held so dear was confined within the dungeon of the Spirit Hall branch in Nuoding City.
Here, the light of day never reached; the air was thick with a foul stench—a putrid blend of mildew, excrement, and rust.
Unidentifiable dark stains seeped across the walls, while the flickering glow of dim oil lamps cast dancing shadows, rendering everything within the dungeon twisted and eerie.
"Let me out! You bunch of shortsighted fools! I am an Elder of the Spirit Hall!"
A hoarse roar erupted from the third cell, echoing through the narrow corridor.
Yu Xiaogang gripped the iron bars—each as thick as a rice bowl—with both hands; the sheer force of his grip caused his fingernails to tear back, drawing blood.
He had been shouting like this for days; his voice was now utterly raw and hoarse, his eyes bloodshot, his hair matted and clinging to his forehead, and his black robes stained with filth.
"Just wait until I get out of here—I will make you pay! Bibi Dong will show you no mercy!"
The only response to his cries was the faint sound drifting from the far end of the corridor—the groans or snores of other prisoners—and the hollow echo of his own voice.
At the entrance to the dungeon, two guards leaned against the wall, looking utterly bored.
"Tch. Hasn’t this guy gotten tired of shouting yet?" Peter, the younger guard, dug at his ear with a look of sheer impatience.
"It’s been days, and it’s the same few lines every single day. ’Elder! Elder!’ If he really were an Elder, would he be locked up in here?"
John, the older guard, yawned.
"Who cares? Master Matthew knows gave orders to look after him well. Just make sure he doesn’t starve to death; as for the rest... let him shout all he wants."
Peter’s eyes darted around, and suddenly, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Hey, John, I’ve got an idea—one that’ll get this guy to finally shut his trap."
John shot him a skeptical glance. "What kind of twisted scheme are you cooking up this time?"
"Remember that guy locked up on the second level of the dungeon?" Peter lowered his voice, winking conspiratorially. "The one who keeps complaining about being bored? Let’s send him a cellmate. I guarantee..."
John blinked in surprise for a moment, then broke into a smile of perfect understanding. "You mean... send our ’Master’ down there to keep that guy company?"
"Exactly!" Peter rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Who asked him to be such a nuisance? It’s about time he got a taste of true suffering."
The two exchanged a knowing smile, reaching a silent consensus.
They hoisted a heavy ring of keys—which clanked loudly with every step—and headed toward Yu Xiaogang’s cell.
Hearing the approaching footsteps, Yu Xiaogang snapped his head up, his eyes lighting up with hope.
"Are you finally letting me out? I knew it! In the end, you are afraid of..."
Clang! The cell door flew open.
Peter and John stepped inside and, one on each side, grabbed Yu Xiaogang by the arms.
"What do you think you’re doing?! Let go! I am an Elder! How dare you...!" Yu Xiaogang struggled in panic, but against the two guards, his meager strength was utterly useless.
"Easy there, Master," John said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "We’re just moving you to a nice, quiet private room."
Without another word, they dragged Yu Xiaogang out of the cell and forced him down the stairs into the deeper levels below.
The deeper they descended, the damper and colder the air became, and the foul stench grew increasingly overpowering.
The oil lamps on the walls became fewer and farther between; the light grew so dim that it was nearly impossible to make out the steps beneath their feet.
"Where are we going? Where are you taking me?!" Yu Xiaogang’s voice began to tremble.
No one answered.
Finally, they halted before an even heavier iron door. A massive padlock hung upon it.
Peter fished out a key and unlocked the door, revealing a darkness even deeper than before.
"In you go," John said, giving him a forceful shove.
Yu Xiaogang stumbled and tumbled into the cell, nearly falling flat on his face. He turned back in terror, only to see the iron door slam shut right before his eyes; the clanking of sliding chains sounded jarringly loud in the silence.
"Enjoy your stay, Master!" Peter’s voice drifted through the iron door, dripping with undisguised malice.
"Oh, and by the way—the ’friends’ inside might be a little... overly enthusiastic. Do try to be accommodating!"
The sound of their footsteps gradually faded away.
Yu Xiaogang slumped to the ground, his heart pounding wildly. He looked around the cell; it was larger than the one upstairs, but also much darker.
A pile of moldy straw lay heaped in the corner. Aside from the usual stench of filth, the air was thick with the pungent smell of male sweat—and... some other indefinable odor.
"Who... who’s in here?" he asked in a trembling voice.
From the darkness, a rustling sound emerged.
A figure sat up from the pile of straw.
By the faint sliver of light filtering through the crack in the door, Yu Xiaogang could barely make out a man of immense, burly stature.
He was bare-chested, his muscles bulging and knotted. A hideous scar—the mark of a blade—slashed diagonally across his face from forehead to chin; in the dim light, it looked like a centipede crawling across his skin.
The burly man rubbed his eyes and let out a massive yawn, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth.
"Newcomer?" His voice was coarse and raspy, like sandpaper grating against wood.
"Who... who are you?" Yu Xiaogang recoiled, pressing his back against the cold stone wall.
The man stood up and stretched his neck, his joints cracking with a sharp snap.
He advanced toward Yu Xiaogang, his massive shadow completely engulfing the frail-looking Master.
"Me?" Scarface squatted down, resting one rough, massive hand casually on Yu Xiaogang’s trembling shoulder.
"I got hauled in by those meddlesome busybodies from the Spirit Hall for getting into a massive brawl. This scar right here? That’s a souvenir from back then."
He pointed to the blade-scar on his face with his other hand, then grinned broadly, revealing a row of yellowed teeth.
"The guys in here all call me Brother Scar. What about you? What did you do to land yourself in here?"
The hand resting on his shoulder was thick and warm, yet stained with sweat and grime; the sensation made Yu Xiaogang feel a wave of nausea.
He wanted to pull away, but he didn’t dare. The man’s imposing physique—combined with that palpable aura of ferocity—instinctively filled him with dread.
Forcing himself to appear calm, he struggled to uphold the dignity befitting a "Grandmaster."
"I... my name is Yu Xiaogang. The... the world knows me as the Grandmaster. I have been framed! I possess a Spirit Hall Elder’s Token—I am a genuine Elder! How dare these imbeciles..."
"An Elder?" Brother Scar cut him off, a flicker of undisguised mockery and disdain flashing in his eyes.
The right hand resting on Yu Xiaogang’s shoulder slid downward ever so casually, quietly coming to rest against his belt buckle. Then, with a seemingly "accidental" nudge...
Clink.
A small, metallic object detached itself from his waist and clattered onto the stone floor between the two men, emitting a crisp, ringing sound.
Yu Xiaogang’s gaze instinctively darted toward it.
It was a key. An ordinary-looking key, yet one that appeared perfectly capable of unlocking the door to this very cell.
"Oops, dropped something." Brother Scar feigned surprise, though he made no move to pick it up immediately; instead, he patted Yu Xiaogang on the shoulder.
"Hey, buddy—do me a favor? Pick that up for me?"
Yu Xiaogang’s eyes remained locked on the key, his heart pounding so violently it felt as though it might burst right out of his chest.
A key!
He jerked his head up to look at Brother Scar, his eyes blazing with a sudden, wild ecstasy: "This... is this the key to the cell door? Brother Scar, you... you can come and go as you please?"
Brother Scar let out a hearty laugh that made the entire cell hum: "You bet! I know this place like the back of my hand; I’ve got everyone—from top to bottom—well-bribed. I can walk out whenever I want, walk back in whenever I want—it’s just like coming home!"
He leaned in closer, his heavy, foul breath washing over Yu Xiaogang’s face: "So? You want to get out?"
"Yes! Of course I do!" Yu Xiaogang’s voice trembled with excitement.
"Brother Scar, could... could you take me out with you? If I can just get out of here, I’ll repay you handsomely! Gold Soul Coins, Soul Tools—anything you want!"
"Easy, easy!" Brother Scar thumped his chest.
"We’re brothers in misfortune here; helping each other out is just the right thing to do!"
He pointed at the key lying on the ground: "In that case, how about you pick up that key for me first?"
"Right! Right!" Suspecting nothing, Yu Xiaogang hurriedly bent down, reaching out to grasp the key that lay just within his reach.
Just as his fingertips were about to make contact with the cold metal...
A pair of thick, brawny arms—strong as iron bands—suddenly wrapped tightly around his waist from behind!
"Bro... Brother Scar?" Yu Xiaogang’s body went rigid as an overwhelming sense of foreboding instantly washed over him.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
Brother Scar offered no reply.
His arms tightened further and further, squeezing so hard it felt as though he might snap Yu Xiaogang’s ribs. Hot, sweat-laced breath puffed against the back of Yu Xiaogang’s neck, sending shivers of goosebumps crawling across his skin.
Then, a low, hoarse voice—laced with a chilling blend of lewd desire and sinister amusement—whispered right into Yu Xiaogang’s ear:
"It’s alright, brother..."
"It’ll be over quickly..."
"Just hang in there..."
Yu Xiaogang’s pupils suddenly constricted to the size of pinpricks.
"Wh-what are you going to do?!" His voice suddenly rose to a sharp, piercing shriek, trembling with undisguised terror.
"Let go of me! Let go!"
He began to struggle frantically, his frail body twisting within Brother Scar’s vice-like arms—yet his efforts were as futile as a puny ant trying to shake a mighty tree.
"No—!! No! Let go of me!"
"Spare me! Please! Brother Scar! I was wrong! I’ll give you money! Lots and lots of money!"
"Help—!! Somebody help me—!!"