Chapter 20: The Knocking Inn (Part Five)

The dark, greenish-black fingers looked like gnarled wooden roots, their cracked nails digging deep into flesh and blood, sprouting as if feeding upon the host.

Compared to the panic clawing its way out of her heart, the physical pain was insignificant.

"How is this possible?" Chen Minqun, collapsed on the floor, her pupils dilated to the limit, looked back toward the doorway in sheer disbelief.

Beneath the bottom edge of the door, a blurred silhouette twisted with a rhythmic clicking sound, its neck elongating and poking through like a winding white maggot.

Drenched, long hair covered its entire face. Peering through the gaps in the strands, a bulging, ghastly white eyeball met her gaze.

It was watching her.
It had locked onto her.

Chen Minqun suddenly felt her body being dragged outward by a powerful force. Panic-stricken, she dug her nails into the floorboard, struggling violently while screaming, "Impossible! The doorbell is still ringing!"

As if a thought suddenly occurred to her, she looked up at Zhou Ke, her face twisted in a mix of shock and rage. "Did you do this? You intended to kill me from the very beginning!"

At that moment, the doorbell outside stopped right on cue.

In reality, the real Zhou Ke, who was standing outside, had ceased pressing the doorbell of Room 3.

He had done this to lower Chen Minqun’s guard, causing her to misjudge the position of the Doorbell Ghost.

Undoubtedly, he had succeeded.

"Didn't you tell me to kill someone?" Zhou Ke’s phantom sat steadily, mimicking the original, continuing to write in the book in his hands as he explained matter-of-factly, "You didn't specify whom."

"You despicable, subhuman wretch!" Chen Minqun shrieked, desperately firing a water projectile.

However, with the Doorbell Ghost dragging her from behind, most of her energy was spent on resisting, making it impossible to aim. Her shot went wide.

Not only did she miss Zhou Ke, but the distraction caused her body to be dragged significantly further back, and now the top of her thighs was about to vanish outside the door.

"No, no, no! I don't want to die, I don't want to die..." Chen Minqun was truly terrified now. She dared not make any more rash moves, focusing all her Aether to resist the Doorbell Ghost.

These efforts could not save her; they could only delay the inevitable.

She knew this perfectly well and began to beg Zhou Ke for help: "Save me! I can't die! If I die, you won't be able to explain this tomorrow. You’ll be branded a 'traitor,' and you won't have a good ending!"

Zhou Ke turned a deaf ear.

Chen Minqun’s abdomen disappeared beyond the door.

She was weeping, tears and mucus streaming down her face, her broken nails carving harrowing, bloody gouges into the tiled floor.

"I was forced into this, I’m innocent too! When I woke up, those ghostly things were written on the ceiling; I couldn't survive without killing someone. Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to hurt people? I just wanted to live! What did I do wrong? Do I deserve to die?"

Perhaps these were heartfelt truths; perhaps they were lies meant to elicit pity.

Like a final confession before death, Chen Minqun poured out her inner torment, desperate for a shred of sympathy or mercy. But there was none.

There was nothing at all.

"Are you under some kind of misunderstanding?" Zhou Ke finally looked up, his expression devoid of ripples, as calm as a lake under moonlight. "I don't think you did anything wrong, or that your crimes are unforgivable. The only reason you ended up in this death trap is—"

"I wanted to do it. That is all."

Chen Minqun finally understood. The man before her was definitely not normal; he wasn't even fit to be called human. "You’re not human! You’re a demon! You’ll get what's coming to you sooner or later!"

Her eyes were filled with hatred, the blood-red hue almost overflowing.

"I am the protagonist. Doing a few bad things to benefit myself at the expense of others is no big deal, right? I’ll surely be forgiven."

"You're sick! This isn't that, there is no such thing as a damn protagonist here!"

"You're wrong again. Everyone is the protagonist of their own life." Zhou Ke watched quietly as Chen Minqun’s chest disappeared through the door and into the darkness.

Then, the door panel closed.

The panel, wedged against her neck, began to shut, turning into a guillotine.

She could no longer make a sound, able only to use eyes bulging from the sudden spike in blood pressure to express her lingering resentment and regret.

"Let me tell you a fairy tale," Zhou Ke said.

"After the Gray Big Wolf was defeated, the shepherd was unwilling to accept it. He sacrificed his own left hand to create a second alchemical wolf.

Considering the cause of the Gray Big Wolf’s failure, the shepherd equipped the second wolf with many weapons to compensate for the disadvantage of being outnumbered.

Things like a katana that could cut through iron like mud, shurikens for long-range victory, a flamethrower to burn the plains, an axe for breaking down doors, a long spear for its reach, poisoned daggers, and so on.

Because there was too much equipment to carry, the shepherd designed the second wolf’s left arm as a mechanical limb, convenient for storing weapons and capable of delivering unexpected strikes.

Thus, the second wolf became the one-armed wolf, known as—Sekiro.

The shepherd sent Sekiro to the sheep village with full confidence, but things did not go as planned.

Sekiro was defeated in the end.

The iron-hearted, ruthless Sekiro had his mind clouded by the flock; he turned his back on his master and pledged allegiance to the sheep as his lord."

He finished the story, paused for a moment, and added:

"This story teaches us—one must harbor the worst and most malicious suspicions toward everyone, even your most loyal creation."

Zhou Ke didn't know how much of this Chen Minqun had heard. When he looked over, only a head remained rolling by the door, tears and blood flowing incessantly.

Before long, the Doorbell Ghost’s hand reached in from the side of the door and retrieved the head.

Only the door panel remained, swinging slightly in the wind.

*Creak—*

The door was pushed open from the outside, and a foot stepped over the corpse and into the room.

The real Zhou Ke, who had just entered, glanced at the corpse by his feet and then at the phantom sitting on the chair with a smile. He politely raised a hand: "Hi, hello."

The phantom raised its hand in return, then shattered and dissipated into the air.

Zhou Ke then slowly closed the broken door and sat on the edge of the bed.

Having killed someone just minutes ago, he felt no great emotional fluctuation, a fact that made him despise himself slightly.

"Mr. Zhou, oh Mr. Zhou! How have you become so cold-blooded and ruthless?"

He could barely find a sense of guilt, perhaps because he was a selfish pragmatist.

Or perhaps he simply felt that people like Chen Minqun were not worth pitying.

Even for a twisted individual like Mr. Zhou, whose values were shattered, there remained a clear line between good and evil in his heart.

He never considered himself a champion of justice acting on behalf of heaven, but he always felt that the world would be better off with more good people in it.

With nothing left to do, Zhou Ke wrapped himself in a small quilt and had a lovely sleep.

Having not closed his eyes for two days and two nights, extreme fatigue had severely hampered his brain’s efficiency.

In any case, now that he knew the killing rules of the Doorbell Ghost, he didn't need to worry too much. Surely his sleeping posture wasn't so bad that he would roll over to the door while asleep, right?