The room was thick with a scent that riled it, a hot metallic reek that needled the nerves. It snapped its head toward the bed, toward the blanket-cocooned sleeper. It couldn’t hold back. Its five fingers fused to a spearpoint and stabbed down like a knife.
It let out a soul-rending scream with no sound at all. It ripped its hand back even faster, wracked with pain. Its palm bristled with fine, razor wooden splinters, a bed of thorns. Purple blood streamed, pattering on the floorboards.
It stared, disbelief carved into its face.
Since it became a Monstrosity, pain had left its world. Human weapons couldn’t touch it. Even a hit left only a scratch, and its warped recovery swallowed wounds in a breath.
But now its palm bled and bled. Its proud regeneration felt sealed. By what?
It tore the sheet aside in a fury. The bed was empty—only clothes rolled into a lump.
No doubt. It had been played.
A trap.
What kind of joke was this?
A Monstrosity, a hunter, tricked by mere food.
Damn humans. Where are you hiding?
It looked around, agitated and feral, until its gaze snagged on a white page pinned to the wall. Cruelty twisted its features.
—[I went to your place. If you want to find me, you’d better hurry.]
That was what the paper said.
...
...
While the Monstrosity howled without sound, Ye Weibai was sprinting down the main street. That hurting howl lived in a sub-bass no human could catch. The people of Xibei Village slept on, cradled in dreams.
But Ye Weibai staggered. He clamped his ears, nearly spilling to the ground.
“Just hearing it hurts. Noisy as rot.” His mouth tipped into a cold smile. Then the wrongness hit him.
“Why… unless—”
He didn’t dare chase the thought. He had no time. He ran faster.
“Here.”
He reached Filia’s yard. His feet didn’t slow; they flew.
He stepped onto the heap of junk by the wall, vaulted, hands hooking the lip, and flipped cleanly into the courtyard.
Splash.
Blood fanned out.
He landed in a pool of it.
Ye Weibai drew a deep breath. He slid his gaze aside and saw the broken body in the corner by the wall.
All four limbs were gone. Only the torso remained. And the belly—emptied out.
Yet the slender neck still held an intact head.
A blonde girl in her early teens. A fine face locked in the last contortion of pain. Blue eyes glazed with despair that would never dissolve.
That despair was deep and black—because it was the despair of being eaten.
He met that gaze. Ye Weibai’s hand trembled.
“What a vile palate, these Monstrosities.” He breathed in, mouth tasting iron and salt. His face went winter-cold.
Yet his eyes burned brighter, as if something inside was pressing to break free.
He looked away, stepped into the open living room, and stopped at Filia’s door.
Ye Weibai eased the wooden door open. Strange—so late, yet the little girl wasn’t asleep. She sat at the desk, drawing who knew what.
He didn’t hide his steps. He walked to her side.
Under the dim amber lamp, the girl tilted her head. Red hair flowed over her shoulders. A smile of bright interest touched her lips. The brush in her hand flicked and smeared color.
She seemed sunk in another world, and didn’t notice Ye Weibai standing right beside her.
Even when he bent down, face almost brushing hers, she didn’t stir.
So Ye Weibai could see clearly what she drew.
His breath stilled.
She was drawing… a Monstrosity.
The first sheet showed it ripping apart a blonde girl’s corpse.
The second showed it scooping out her organs.
The third showed it tearing off her limbs.
The fourth…
Her lines were childlike, her style naive. Yet that very innocence made the gold more gold, the red more vivid, painting the gore and cruelty to a ruthless edge, shading it with a peculiar eeriness.
“Ah. So that’s how it is…” He understood. “You held on for six months like this.”
Even a trash bin must be emptied when it’s full. How much more a human? Day after day facing the brother turned Monstrosity—and the cruelty of its feeding—Filia needed an outlet.
This way of drawing, like falling into her own void, was Filia’s outlet.
“But even so, you’re near your limit, aren’t you?” Ye Weibai reached out and gently stroked her hair. He could feel it, plain as rain—
Filia was shaking.
Yes. The little girl wore a carefree, eager smile, but her small body shivered on its own.
Prelude to collapse.
In that moment, Ye Weibai finally saw the girl’s true face.
Not worry-free. Not blithe.
“You’re crying, you stubborn little imp.” He couldn’t help it; he slid his fingers over her cheek, wiping away tears that weren’t there.
Strangely, as he wiped those “tears,” her trembling eased.
...
...
[I went to your place. If you want to find me, you’d better hurry.]
“Filia!!!”
Seeing that line, a nameless anger flooded the Monstrosity’s skull in an instant.
Its eyes went red. Instinct said: sprint home, seize that human.
If it had done that, Ye Weibai’s plan would have unfolded smooth as silk. But things rarely flow that clean. Or—driven by something aloof and above—Ye Weibai wasn’t so lucky.
In the next heartbeat, the Monstrosity stalled.
“Eh?”
Confusion creased its face. It drew back the foot already set on the windowsill.
“What am I doing?”
A vast hunger surged from its gut, rising with the breath, swallowing its rage and impulse.
Every emotion shrank to one word.
“Hungry.”
It was starving.
Not for a day or two. Not a week or two. Nearly half a year.
For six months, it hadn’t eaten well. The burn in its belly was enough to drive it mad.
Food sat right in front of it. Yet it couldn’t open its belly and devour them—how strange.
“I’m… not a Monstrosity?”
That hunger swelled stronger after the wound and the spill of blood. It began to burn away what little reason it had.
Its stomach growled. It stared at the words on the wall, turned in a daze.
“Why am I angry?”
“At the root, why anger?”
“Hungry, then eat. What is anger?”
“So strange… Why must I not eat them? For what? For whom?”
“For—Filia? But—why should I care about that thing called Filia—food?”
It lifted its head. Red thickened in its eyes, turning muddied and rich.
“Ah. No more thinking. Thinking is tiring. Eating is easy.”
“Eat first. Think later.”
It turned its head. Its pupils locked straight on the wall.
“Closest meal… is fine.”
From the other side of the wall, it scented food—fresh, tender, and sweet.
