National Guardian's Gone and We're Done

Sun Canxing, Lai Yu Yao, Yu Yingjie, and all the other young men and women felt a sense of dread as they witnessed the sudden turn of events.

They never imagined that the evil hand would be so depraved as to take the residents of Xia Shui Village hostage, all to threaten Chu He and stop him from taking further action.

In an instant, it felt as if an invisible hand had seized their hearts, leaving them hanging in suspense.

Even with a peerless expert like Chu He present—truly one of the best of the best—they couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of dread.

After all, these sheltered youths had only heard tales of the cruel methods used by those from the Evil World. That alone was enough to fill them with apprehension and fear. Now, seeing it firsthand, the terror was inescapable, chilling them to the bone.

"Lord... Lord Mountain God, it’s me,

I’m Chang Bailin, the chief of Xia Shui Village. Don’t you recognize me?"

Perhaps it was the desperate will to survive, a blazing fire ignited in this hopeless situation, that spurred Chang Bailin’s body and soul. He summoned every ounce of his strength to force his mouth open.

Each word seemed to be brutally squeezed from the depths of his throat, laden with endless pain and struggle.

His eyes darted wildly in their sockets.

He tried to pierce through the layers of darkness and fear

to get a clear look at where this so-called "Lord Mountain God" was.

The sheer effort made the muscles of his face contort and stiffen,

as if he were wearing a grotesque mask.

However, the moment the words left his lips,

Chang Bailin’s body convulsed as if struck by a wicked bolt of lightning from Hell.

He was instantly plunged into an abyss of unprecedented panic and agony.

His eyes flew wide, his sockets straining as if they could no longer contain them.

They threatened to burst through the fragile skin as his eyeballs were instantly webbed with terrified, bloodshot veins.

The veins spread out like a fine, crimson spiderweb.

It was as if some indescribable horror was wreaking havoc before his very eyes.

The sight was so ghastly it made his very soul tremble.

He was unable to withstand the dual assault on his sight and spirit.

At the same time, his neck, as if controlled by an invisible, malevolent force,

began to swell rapidly.

His skin stretched taut, turning a deep crimson from the surging blood and spasming muscles within.

The color was as vivid as a flame about to ignite,

threatening to burst at any moment.

Veins bulged against his reddened skin,

like twisted, malicious snakes,

writhing wildly upon his neck.

Every twitch seemed to play another note in a symphony of death.

The sight

was like watching his body endure a silent but horrific catastrophe.

Every inch of his skin and every vessel shrieked of his desperation.

A Demon had dragged him into an endless, dark abyss, where only death awaited.

Chang Bailin’s mouth opened slowly, arduously.

The process was like a heavy iron gate, rusted and corroded by time and malevolent power,

being slowly forced open.

Every inch of movement was accompanied by a blood-curdling CREAK.

His lips trembled violently.

His teeth chattered, the sound subtle yet clearly audible.

It was the sound of him enduring some unspeakable, immense pain.

Then, Chang Bailin’s mouth gaped wider and wider.

The cavernous opening was nearly large enough to fit a grown man’s fist.

His posture twisted like a puppet under a Demon’s Curse.

He struggled in agony, as if he had swallowed a lethal, indigestible poison.

He was trying with all his might to vomit it up

but was held down by a stronger force, powerless to do so.

He could only sink into endless suffering.

A strange, sinister gurgle escaped his throat, "HURK... HURK..."

The sound was like the wail of a tormented soul from the depths of Hell.

It was a sound that mixed extreme pain, bone-deep terror, and utter despair.

The sound echoed through the deathly silent air,

carrying a heart-stopping chill

that could pierce one’s very soul, sending a shiver down the spine of all who heard it and making their skin crawl.

Sweat and tears mingled uncontrollably,

forming small rivulets

that ran down his features, which were twisted into an inhuman mask of pain.

They finally dripped to the ground, the sound faint but startlingly clear in the silence.

It was like the ticking of a clock counting down to his death.

Every drop was saturated with his desperation to live and his terror of dying.

Chu He, Sun Canxing, Yu Yingjie, Lai Yu Yao, and Qi Shulei all subconsciously looked up.

Their gazes fell in unison on Chang Bailin, the chief of Xia Shui Village.

Some of the more timid youths in the crowd turned deathly pale at the horrific scene.

They trembled, unable to bear looking directly at the nightmarish display.

They could only turn away, averting their eyes in an attempt to escape the terror before them.

As for the slightly braver ones,

they suppressed their inner fear and watched cautiously.

Their gazes were a mixture of curiosity and concern.

They wanted to know what would happen next,

but they were also afraid of witnessing something even more horrifying, their minds caught in a desperate struggle.

Those who had the courage to stare directly at the grisly scene,