31: Chapter 31 The Killing Game in the Rainstorm

There were no screams as expected.

The figure in the white dress disintegrated instantly, like a wax figure melted by high heat.

There was no flesh or blood.

Only a pool of foul-smelling black slime remained, quickly seeping into the gaps in the floorboards.

"Disgusting."

Emma wrinkled her nose and flicked the black sludge off her dagger with an expression of disgust.

"Is that it?"

"It's only just begun."

Qin Ming stared at the gaping hole blown into the floor.

Sizzle, sizzle—

A teeth-grating grinding sound came from deep underground.

It was the sound of wet skin scraping hard against rough stone walls.

A hand gripped the edge of the well.

Pale, bloated, with nails turned outward.

Followed by a second, then a third.

Countless Samaras in dirty white dresses poured out of the narrow, dark well opening, scrambling like ants from a disturbed nest.

They squeezed and trampled over each other.

Their joints were twisted at inhuman angles.

Some even crawled up the walls upside down, their long hair hanging down to cover their faceless visages.

If they didn't run, they would be overwhelmed.

"Retreat."

Qin Ming grabbed the dazed Emma, turned, and kicked open the flimsy wooden door.

The two of them rushed out into the pouring black night.

The rain was bone-chillingly cold.

But the things behind them were colder than the rain.

The doors and windows of the cabin were instantly burst open.

Those white-dressed figures crawled out, using both hands and feet like a black tide.

Looking out.

They were packed densely.

The number was definitely over a hundred.

Those pairs of pale hands waved in the rainy night, accompanied by the crisp sound of grinding bones, as they swarmed toward the two children.

"Emma, are you okay?"

Qin Ming stood on the muddy grass, rain dripping from the tips of his hair.

He didn't look back.

His gaze coldly swept across the group of monsters rapidly approaching.

"Of course."

Emma, behind him, wiped the rain from her face.

That exquisite black lace dress was already soaked, clinging tightly to her body.

But there was no fear on her small face.

Instead, it betrayed an indescribable excitement.

"I just hate that they're dirtying my shoes."

"I don't have many special bullets left."

Qin Ming flipped his palm.

The shotgun vanished into the void.

In its place, he removed the golden halo from behind his head.

The materialized halo was heavy, with a high-temperature, holy radiance flowing across its surface, causing the rain falling on it to hiss and vaporize.

"These copies are semi-corporeal."

"Breaking them apart only turns them into black water; there are no points for that."

Qin Ming cracked his neck, the sound sharp and crisp.

"So, don't hold back."

Facing the tide of ghosts surging toward them like a tsunami, Qin Ming assumed a standard fighting stance.

He lowered his center of gravity.

His eyes were like blades.

Since firearms weren't cost-effective.

Then he would solve the problem in the most primitive way.

"Stay close to me."

Qin Ming's voice was low.

The next second.

The mud beneath his feet exploded.

He shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, charging headlong into the pile of disgusting white-dressed monsters.

It wasn't a retreat.

It was a slaughter.

Emma watched her brother's back, a brilliant smile spreading across her lips.

She raised the newly materialized glintstone magic sword in her hand and followed close behind.

"Let's play."

She whispered.

The first Samara lunged in front of Qin Ming.

Her rotting face was only centimeters away from Qin Ming, sharp nails aiming straight for his eyes.

Qin Ming didn't dodge.

His left hand was lightning-fast as he grabbed the creature's slick wrist.

He yanked hard.

He used the halo in his right hand as brass knuckles, smashing it simply and directly into that ghostly face.

Bang!

A dull bursting sound rang out.

The head, like a rotten watermelon struck by a hammer, instantly exploded into a mass of black ink.

Before the headless body could fall, Qin Ming kicked it away, knocking down a swathe of others behind it.

"Zero points."

Qin Ming coldly announced the number.

This was just the beginning.

The rain grew heavier.

This bizarre performance of violent aesthetics on Shelter Mountain was reaching its climax.

Qin Ming completely let loose.

The intermediate physical enhancement brought not only five times the strength of an ordinary person but also superhuman neural reaction speed.

In his eyes.

These twisted Samaras were as slow as if they were doing calisthenics.

Whoosh—!

Three Samaras lunged simultaneously, blocking his left, right, and front.

Qin Ming didn't retreat, but instead advanced.

Pivoting on his left foot, he spun his body sharply to the right.

His right leg swept out like a steel whip, whistling through the air.

Snap!

This low kick landed precisely on the monster's knee joint.

The sound of bone cracking was crisp and melodious.

The Samara lost its balance and pitched forward.

Using the momentum of the spin, Qin Ming backhanded the golden halo downward.

The edge of the halo slammed into the monster's chest like a heavy shield.

Bang, bang, bang!

The three vengeful ghosts were knocked away like bowling pins, turning into black smoke while still in mid-air.

But this wasn't enough.

There were more and more white dresses all around, like an endless nightmare.

"Too many."

Qin Ming frowned.

A Samara crawled along the ground, trying to grab his ankle.

Qin Ming violently grabbed the monster's ankle.

The hundred-plus-pound body felt light as a feather in his hands.

"Get lost!"

Engaging his core, he swung the Samara around, using it as a humanoid weapon to smash into the surrounding swarm of ghosts.

The massive impact cleared a small area instantly.

Severed limbs and black water flew wildly in the rainy night.

And behind him.

Although Emma didn't possess such monstrous strength, she was more like a gardener pruning branches in a garden.

Whenever a straggler tried to approach Qin Ming's back, a flash of blue glintstone light would streak by.

Precise.

Ruthless.

Specifically severing the monsters' hamstrings or throats.

"Brother, there's no end to them!"

Emma shouted, her tone full of excitement, "That well is like a printer!"

Qin Ming punched a Samara that tried to bite him, shattering it.

He looked at the dilapidated wooden cabin.

A constant stream of black mist was pouring out from within.

"As I thought."

Qin Ming's eyes narrowed.

"The protagonist of that videotape sealed her in the world beneath the well, then jumped off a cliff to return to the real world."

"As long as that world exists, these copies will be endless."

Qin Ming crushed the throat of the monster in his hand and tossed it aside.

He made a decision.

"Emma."

"Hold the line here."

Qin Ming turned around and looked at the cabin that seemed to lead to hell.

"I'm going to unplug the cable."

Emma pierced an enemy's heart with her sword, turned back, and blinked: "You're going into the well?"

"Yes."

Qin Ming took a deep breath, the muscles in his body tensed to the limit.

Swift Shadow Step!

A golden streak of light left an afterimage in the curtain of rain.

He stopped engaging.

He turned into a cannonball, smashing through the dozen puppets blocking his path and charging straight into the cabin.

Without hesitation.

In front of the foul-smelling, dried-up well, Qin Ming took a leap.

Whoosh—

A sense of weightlessness washed over him.

But the fall didn't last long.

When his feet touched solid ground, the surrounding scene changed.

It was no longer the cabin floor.

It was a pitch-black, cold, and damp space.

Beneath his feet was standing water that reached his ankles, giving off the stench of rotting water plants.

All around were moss-covered circular well walls, extending up to the small patch of sky above.

This was the bottom of the well.

And it was also Samara's domain of resentment.

Time was forever stuck on the seventh day she was buried alive.

Drip.

Drip.

The sound of dripping water was infinitely amplified in this enclosed space.

Qin Ming stood in the black water.

He saw a figure slowly rise from the center of the well water.

This time, it wasn't one of those cheap copies.

The tangible resentment caused the surrounding temperature to instantly drop to freezing.

Samara Morgan.

The true original.

Wet, long hair clung to a pale, twisted face, and those eyes without whites stared fixedly at the intruder.

Her nails were like sharp claws, and every step she took was accompanied by static-like noise.

"You…"

"Why…"

"Still not dead…"

Her voice sounded like it was squeezed from the depths of her throat, carrying endless malice.

As she raised her hand.

The well water rose frantically.

The surrounding well walls began to compress inward, and countless twisted human faces appeared on the stone walls, emitting shrill screams.

Qin Ming stood in the rapidly rising black water.

He still felt no fear.

He simply placed the glowing golden halo back behind his head.

The warm yellow light illuminated the cold bottom of the well.

"Stop screaming."

Qin Ming rolled up his soaked sleeves, revealing a pale yet explosive forearm.

He looked at the terrifying vengeful spirit, a cruel arc playing on his lips.

"There are only the two of us here."

"No one is coming to save you."

"And I have nowhere to run."

He assumed a boxing stance.

"Come."

"Let me see if you can survive the second round."