"FREEDOM!" He Yuying screeched as he flopped onto his stomach. He pointed one trembling finger skyward. "Don't… bury me with him. I don't want to share a tomb with that oversized man!"
Song Meiyu clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and shining. "You're alive!"
"Barely!" He Yuying croaked, dragging himself across the floor. His gaze landed on the absurdly long needle still clenched in Linyue's hand.
She noticed, tilted her head, then calmly held it out. "Here. If you want revenge."
He Yuying sat up with great effort, took the needle, and cracked a crooked grin. "Let's continue the acupuncture session."
Shen Zhenyu, who had been tossed around the room like a sack of rice, staggered to his feet. His hair stuck out at alarming angles, his robe looked like it had been used to mop the floor, but his eyes were sharp and unyielding. Without a single word, he stepped forward and joined He Yuying in their… therapy session.
Poke. Jab. Stab. Slice. It was the weirdest group attack anyone had ever seen.
Meanwhile, Linyue and Song Meiyu, clearly deciding they had both earned the right to do absolutely nothing, plopped down on the dusty, corpse-adjacent floor. Song Meiyu let out a shaky sigh. Linyue adjusted her sleeve.
"This is strangely satisfying," Song Meiyu murmured as she flicked imaginary dust and possibly despair off her sleeve.
"Too bad," Linyue replied with a quiet sigh. "No snacks."
In front of them, chaos looked almost artistic. He Yuying let out a triumphant yell as his absurdly long needle jabbed into some unfortunate nerve point, causing the big man to spasm. Shen Zhenyu, expression perfectly serious, was viciously working his crescent knife into the man's thigh.
It was the kind of scene that might end up in a history book if anyone was foolish enough to record it. More likely it would be whispered as a cautionary tale titled: How Not to Fight a Giant.
After what felt like several eternities and several accidental pokes in places no one should ever be poked, He Yuying and Shen Zhenyu finally stepped back from their chaotic "therapy session." The big man was still alive. Somehow. He lay on the floor, chest rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths.
He Yuying flopped down onto the nearest relatively clean patch of floor, arm dangling at his side. "Please tell me we're done stabbing. My hand's cramping. I've got acupuncture trauma now."
Shen Zhenyu stood beside him, eyes locked on the fallen man with sharp focus. Slowly, he lowered the crescent blade until the cold edge pressed against the thick neck. "What happened here?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
No response.
Shen Zhenyu's grip tightened. The blade pressed harder, just shy of cutting skin. "Say it, or I slice it."
Still no answer. But then the big man opened his mouth, as if trying to speak. Nothing came out. Just silence and a little blood.
Shen Zhenyu narrowed his eyes, stepped closer, and grabbed the man's jaw, prying it open. And that was when they all saw it.
There was no tongue. Just a jagged stump where one should have been.
Song Meiyu gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. "His tongue! His tongue's gone!"
Linyue blinked slowly, completely unshaken. "That explains a lot."
He Yuying threw his head back and groaned. "Oh great. We finally win, and the boss fight doesn't even come with a monologue."
Shen Zhenyu let go of the man's jaw with a sharp flick of his hand, disgust clear in his usually unreadable face. The big man's mouth stayed open a little too long like he forgot how it worked before it closed again with a wet, awkward sound. If he had any last thoughts, they were probably something like, ow.
Song Meiyu clung to Linyue's sleeve. "Do… do you think someone cut it out? Or… or do you think he did it himself?!"
He Yuying didn't miss a beat. "Oh sure, I'm sure he just woke up one morning and thought, Hm, this tongue is really getting in my way."
Linyue, perfectly straight-faced, added, "Or maybe he bit it off mid-yawn. Happens all the time."
Shen Zhenyu's mouth twitched. It was hard to tell if he was horrified or holding back a laugh.
They were so caught up in their absurd theories about the big man's tongue that no one noticed the tall, flickering shadow stretching across the wall behind them. Not until a voice mildly annoyed and very much alive broke the tension.
"Excuse me?"
They all spun around at once.
Standing at the doorway, shirtless and confused, was none other than Prince Lu. Half his hair sticking up. His pants barely clinging on for dear life.
Linyue glanced at him. "Oh right. We almost forgot about you."
"Almost?" Prince Lu's voice cracked. "Didn't you forget me altogether?!"
Song Meiyu let out a high-pitched shriek and slapped both hands over her eyes. "Where are your clothes?! PERVERT!"
Prince Lu let out a noise of pure despair and threw up his hands. "Do you think I want to be like this?! In front of a mountain of corpses?!"
Linyue only shrugged. "Don't worry. Half of them were missing eyeballs. They won't peek."
That was when fate—cruel, mischievous fate—chose to betray him completely. As Prince Lu stepped forward, his pants, which had been clinging on for dear life, finally gave up and slid to the floor with a soft fwump.
Song Meiyu screamed at a pitch that could probably shatter glass. "AAAHHH! MY INNOCENCE!"
Shen Zhenyu reacted instantly, striding forward like a true gentleman and raising his palm to cover Linyue's eyes. "Don't look."
At the same time, He Yuying, less noble but equally dramatic, slapped a hand over Song Meiyu's face. "Do. Not. See. The horror."
Unfortunately, he miscalculated his own strength. Song Meiyu, still screaming, toppled backward and landed on the floor with a loud thump.
Meanwhile, Prince Lu let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a sob and a growl, as he yanked his pants back up. "WHY IS THIS MY LIFE?!" he wailed, clutching the traitorous garment.
On the floor, Song Meiyu groaned and rubbed her face. "Why did you slap me?!"
He Yuying, completely unapologetic, said, "I was saving you."
"Saving me?! Really?!" Song Meiyu shot back, still sprawled like a starfish on the cold floor. "Is he done wearing his pants yet? I'm not getting up until it's confirmed."
He yuying raised a hand to shield his eyes. "Hang on, let me check the situation for you. Risking my own eyes."
Shen Zhenyu lowered his hand from Linyue's face. "It's safe now."
Prince Lu looked deeply offended, his hands still gripping his pants. "What do you mean safe? There's nothing wrong with it! This is not my fault!" Then his finger shot out, pointing at the large, twitching man still groaning on the ground. "And what happened to him?!"
He Yuying waved vaguely toward the fallen giant. "Long story. Involves eyeballs, acupuncture session, and… a series of bad decisions."
Linyue added helpfully, "And very little planning."
Prince Lu stared at them for a long moment, then nodded slowly like somehow, that actually explained everything. Which, tragically, it kind of did.
Everyone let out a collective, exhausted sigh.
Song Meiyu clutched her sleeves nervously, her voice small. "So… what are we going to do next?"
Linyue tilted her head. "That big guy definitely knows the way out. But…" She gestured at the massive man twitching on the floor, "his eyes are gone. And he can't talk."
Shen Zhenyu nodded grimly.
A depressing silence fell over the group.
Prince Lu looked around at the pile of corpses, eyes narrowed in disgust. "What exactly happened here?" Then, pointing to one of the bodies with its insides clearly not where they should be, he added, "Did they… use that to make dolls?"
Linyue's gaze followed his finger. "Looks like it. But there's something else going on. You don't need internal organs to make dolls." She pointed to the corpse with a gaping hole where its stomach used to be. "This one's missing… too much."
Everyone stared at the corpse for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then their gazes shifted slowly until they were all looking at each other instead.
Shen Zhenyu let out a long sigh. He turned back to the big man sprawled helplessly on the floor, grabbed his jaw firmly with one hand, and kept his crescent knife in the other just to make things extra persuasive.
His voice was low and sharp. "We're going to ask questions. Nod for yes. Shake your head for no. Understand?"
The big man gave one slow nod.