Chapter 157: Must Hide the Half-Eaten “Food” Well

Chapter 157: Always Hide Your Half-Eaten "Food"

The little wooden cabin by the woods was cramped, furnished only with a wooden table, a chair, and empty liquor bottles scattered and rolling across the floor.

Thus, Meng Siyou and the drunkard simply sat on the ground, and amidst the thick, boozy air, a secret story began to unfold.

"After those damned tree branches stabbed into my eyes, the pain knocked me out cold. My colleagues took turns caring for me. Luckily, someone had emergency pain meds and bandages on hand, and another had unexpectedly gathered some plants in the forest to prevent infection, to treat my wounds... Otherwise, I might've lost more than just my eyes."

"When I woke up, I realized I was slung over a horse’s back, and the group was moving in a certain direction. I asked excitedly if they’d found a way out."

"But the friend leading my horse replied that some woman calling herself Hekate had promised to take us to a nearby village to rest for the night..."

Hardly anyone ever listened to his "ravings." Old John’s booze-fogged mind cleared a bit, and his hollow eye sockets seemed to quiver and widen into fearful black holes:

"I listened as they spoke with this so-called 'Hekate,' but I could only hear my companions’ laughter and voices—never once did a woman’s voice respond to them! Yet, it seemed I was the only one who noticed!"

"I—I was scared shitless. At first, I thought my ears were failing me, then I grew paranoid, wondering if I was stuck in some nightmare. But gradually, I became certain that the young, beautiful woman carrying an oil lamp in black robes they described... didn’t actually exist..."

"White-knuckling the reins, I didn’t dare sit up or look around, afraid that monstrous thing would notice me."

"I pressed myself against the horse, listening carefully to the sounds around me. Every time someone spoke to 'Hekate,' it was followed by a rustling—like plants rapidly swelling and rubbing against themselves—"

"That was the real 'Hekate,' a monster that might not even be human-shaped."

Meng Siyou recalled the rustling sounds he’d heard from Anna’s room late at night and could roughly imagine the scene.

Under the dappled shadows swaying of trees, a woman who appeared beautiful to everyone might, in truth, have been a vast, multiplying mass of glowing green dots, dancing forward like a massive gathering of fireflies, a surging wave of light slowly creeping through the forest.

And the humans it had bewitched couldn’t perceive the horror unfolding, ignoring the restless snorts and uneasy steps of their horses as they followed the glowing tide in a trance.

Perhaps, during this process, those glowing dots were also seeping into their eyes.

Like moss settling on fertile soil, the glowing green dots quickly took root inside their eyeballs, spreading into a furry green carpet...

Only young John, blinded by those branches, had ironically been spared—allowing him to perceive the truth.

"The horse carried me forward. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but the air grew colder, and a wet, slimy feeling brushed against my face, making me shiver uncontrollably."

"Before long, my companions burst into cheers—they told me we’d finally reached the village Hekate had described, full of sturdy, bright houses, fresh sweet bread, and strong, fragrant wine... But when I reached out around me, all I felt was cold, rough rock."

"The stone walls were covered in thick, furry moss, thriving in the damp environment. Drops of water trickled down the walls and moss, landing on my face and body."

"I guessed we’d been led into a vast cavern. The village the others spoke of... couldn’t possibly exist!"

"My companions’ familiar voices echoed through the cave. They drank from the cave’s streams as if savoring freshly brewed ale, chomping loudly on something I couldn’t identify."

"They kept urging me to eat too, but what they shoved into my hands was a wad of furry moss..."

"I could feel its cold, slick surface, covered in short, fine hairs, its interior made of countless tiny spherical particles—they... they seemed to throb and swell, quickly filling my palm and clinging tightly to my skin. Terrified, I immediately threw the damn thing away!"

"How could the others possibly put this in their mouths? Would these creepy moss clumps slide down their throats with the water, taking root and multiplying in their stomachs?"

As he spoke, Old John seemed to relive that horrific, helpless night, his hands trembling uncontrollably around the liquor barrel.

His breath grew ragged with fear. He took a big swig of alcohol, drowning his fear.

"Madness—I thought then, everyone’s gone mad! Maybe I’ve gone mad too, doomed to never escape that desolate forest..."

"I couldn’t share in my companions’ wild excitement. I didn’t even dare make a sound, curling up in a corner, silently praying for the nightmare to end."

"As night wore on, the air grew colder. My consciousness began to fade, but the rustling in my ears only grew clearer..."

"—It was the moss! It spread wildly through the cave, the rustling like Hekate’s whispers, until it formed an endless, huge, soft blanket, wrapping tightly around all of us, pulling us into sleep..."

After downing more liquor, Old John’s eyes glazed over again, his voice wavering:

"When I next woke, I was back at the estate. I have no idea what happened in between."

"Ha! The duke was lucky to get out alive. If it were me, I’d have taken my fortune and fled far away, never to return! But he actually brought that monster back to the estate and married it!"

Old John sputtered in disbelief.

Were it not for his blindness making survival outside the estate impossible, he would never have stayed anywhere near "Hekate."

Or perhaps, the only reason everyone treated the duchess so normally was because they were all under that monster’s spell.

No one could see that behind the duchess’s slim figure stretched a massive, swollen shadow.

"A few years later, they even had two healthy children..."

Old John touched his empty eye sockets beneath shrunken eyelids and laughed bitterly. "At times like these, I’m glad I can’t see. At least I won’t witness those two little monsters growing up!"

Soon after, Old John drank himself silly, slumping over clumsily among the empty bottles.

Meng Siyou thanked him and gently closed the door on his way out.

Since entering this strange scenario, Meng Siyou had been unable to contact the system or see the mission’s completion conditions, relying solely on the Book of Fate to track his progress.

The Book of Fate faithfully recorded Old John’s account before adding:

*"...Finally unburdened of his long-held secret, Old John felt a huge weight off his shoulders, his soul led by fragrant liquor into a hazy, beautiful dream."*

*"In the true course of history, poor Old John never spoke of that horrific experience before his death. Everyone dismissed him as a blind drunk spouting crazy talk. And when a lie is repeated enough, it becomes truth—so much so that even Old John himself came to believe he was just a pitiful, drunken wreck."*

*"Only in the dead of night, when the faint rustling of growing vegetation echoed through the estate, was there proof he hadn’t lied."*

*"Chapter 2: Tales of the Shadowed Forest—Completed. Current Fate Alteration Value: 24% (+N%)."*

The alteration value had risen significantly!

Meng Siyou guessed part of it came from changing Old John’s fate of dying without revealing the truth, and another part from "Meng Na" avoiding the luminous tide’s corruption...

But what did the "+N%" in parentheses mean?

When Meng Siyou asked in confusion, Wu Suer replied, "Your actions inadvertently caused a High Being who should have long left the estate to choose to remain."

"The 'N%' lacks a fixed value because its potential influence is immeasurable."

Meng Siyou understood.

So, if he hadn’t been sneaking around eavesdropping in the bushes, the prophet wouldn’t have grown curious...

In the original timeline, the prophet should have merely passed through, leaving shortly after his deal with the old duke?

Flipping further through the Book of Fate, Meng Siyou was startled to find a new page had appeared.

*"Next Chapter Preview: Chapter 3—The Burning Harvest Season. Unlocked opening passage:"*

*"Last night, terrified by ■■■’s horrific 'joke,' Isildur lay awake until the first light of dawn before finally daring to close his eyes."*

"It was nearly 2 p.m. when Isildur finally woke from his slumber, but the moment he opened his eyes, he sensed something amiss."

"...Why did his mouth taste faintly of blood?"

"Troubled by this thought, Isildur approached the mirror and was horrified to find his lips and chin smeared with large, uneven patches of dried crimson blood—thick and sticky, clinging to stray tufts of some creature's fur at the corners of his mouth. As if he had, in his sleep, unconsciously devoured something alive."

"The realization hit him like a punch. Isildur paled instantly, his stomach churning violently."

"Vomiting up clumps of blood-streaked fur, he lunged frantically toward the bed, flipping the pillow to reveal a decapitated bird, its skull gnawed clean off. Then, by the nightstand, he found a severed rat's tail..."

"Did... did I do all this? Isildur staggered under a splitting headache, his vision blurred with overlapping hallucinations. Kneeling by the bed in agony, he was overcome by nausea, terror, and gnawing doubt."

"Amidst the phantoms flickering before his eyes, shadowy figures stood at a distance, covering their noses with handkerchiefs as they pointed and whispered in disgust:"

"'The Duke's eldest son—a blood-crazed monster!'"

"'How could the Iris family ever pass to him?'"

"'They say he murders in his fits—didn’t he push his own nursemaid down the stairs?'"

"'...'"

"Madman. Murderer. Demon. Every vile epithet imaginable would soon prefix his name."

"In his dazed state, Isildur resolved to hide these half-eaten 'meals' where no one could ever find them..."

"But just then, someone knocked at his door."

"To be continued..."

Meng Siyou froze, hit by an unsettling sense of familiarity in Isildur's ordeal.

The underlying method was psychological torture—escalating external doubt and oppression until the victim’s own mind buckled, twisting their perception of reality...

Wasn’t this precisely what Old John had endured for years?

Old John, mocked as a drunken liar; Isildur, labeled a psychotic monster—their hidden torment was identical!

Whatever the shadowy mastermind sought, it must not succeed.

If the hidden foe wanted Isildur’s "atrocities" exposed and his sanity shattered by public condemnation, then Meng Siyou would thwart it no matter what!

"Shit—what time is it? I must intervene before that knock—!"

The realization sparked urgency. Without hesitation, Meng Siyou whirled around and raced toward the mansion.