"Please…"
"Please…"
"I–I'm sorry…"
The muffled pleadings barely escaped his cracked lips, trembling with desperation. That was all Duō Yī could produce now ,a pitiful echo trapped within the stone walls of the cavern. His throat was raw, his voice half-gone, but still he begged. For mercy. For death. For something,anything to end the torment.
It had been two weeks of what could no longer be called torture. Torture was too clean a word, too human. This was desecration. Flesh flayed, bones split, nerves burnt until even pain itself began to rot. Every breath was a struggle. Every second was a lifetime.
Each day began with hope and ended in flayed skin, ruptured meridians, and screams swallowed by the dark. The Gardener's tests blurred together. needles of bone, cauldrons of acid, pills that seethed like burning stars. From the moment he survived those first two pills the ones that should have killed him his fate had been sealed. The Gardener had turned him into a mere experiment, a puppet on strings woven from pain and madness. Day after day, the dosage increased an insidious escalation each pill more deadly than the last.
What began as curiosity had devolved into obsession. The Gardener wanted to unearth a "holy physique," something Duō Yī did not have,some divine body that didn't exist, but was forced to pay for regardless. The pills came in increasing doses, each one pressing his mortal body closer to collapse.
In his desperation, Duo Yi had tried to bleed the burden into Hei Lóng, For a time, that had saved him. But even now, that body was reaching its limit, the twin hearts beat in disharmony, both bodies cracking under strain. the [Hive] system allowed the pain and qi load to be shared, balanced. But even that salvation had limits.
All for One had long since ceased to function. None of his skills responded. His mind was an incoherent fog, clouded by agony and exhaustion. Only one thought hammered ceaselessly through the chaos
SURVIVE!
Somehow, he knew. If he died here, he would stay dead. No reincarnation. No rebirth. Nothing. he would stay dead. It was not logic, it was instinct, something that whispered from deep within his soul, from the abyss but the cold truth was brutal. There was no escape from this madman's hands.
They were in the wilderness. No messages, no sect, no help only silence and the creeping dread that no rescue was coming. His comrades long dead, refined into dust and had fallen in vain. Now, only the grotesque mess of his battered body remained, a testament to the madness that had consumed him.
tsh-tsh-tsh-tsh-tsh—That sound,that nauseating nasal laugh. An insidious nasal laugh, a sound that had become a curse rooted deep within his bones. The sound had carved itself into Duō Yī's spine,hearing it was like being skinned alive by memory alone. it signaled what was to come , more experiments, more pain, more suffering.
He began to struggle instinctively, a bound beast thrashing against invisible bounds, panic ripping through his ravaged body, like a trapped beast, primal and frantic desperately searching for some means of escape.
"NO!"
"NOOO!"
"PLEASE!"
"PLEASE, DON'T COME CLOSER!"
His screams tore at the air.
"AHHHHHH!"
"HELP!"
"HELP ME!"
"IS ANYONE THERE?! HELP MEEEEE!"
His voice cracked, the last shreds of sanity spilling out with every word tears streaming down his face—an animal's cry, a desperate prayer to the void. This had become his daily routine. scream, plead, despair. Though he knew no rescue was coming, he clung to that faint flicker of hope—perhaps, just perhaps.
He knew there was no answer. Still, he screamed because to scream was to defy silence. Perhaps Heaven would hear.
The caverns swallowed his voice like a grave. No echo returned. No light, no salvation only the thick stench of blood and herbs, and the wet squelch of steps approaching him.
It didn't matter. He continued to scream. If there was even the faintest chance that heaven would hear him, he had to try. The heavens had given him a second chance once, only to throw him into this abyss.
Was this retribution for the sins of his past life? Was he paying an eternal price for every life he had taken? Was this his hell, his divine judgment?
Tears blurred his vision.
"I'm sorry…"
"I'm sorry…"
"Please… please… I'm sorry…"
The words came out broken, pathetic. He no longer knew who he was apologizing to , himself, the heavens, or the corpses that surrounded him.
"Now, now, lad," the Gardener's voice slithered from the shadows, ugly and mocking like oil dripping from a rusted blade.
"We wouldn't want you ruining such a fine physique, would we?" His words oozed like poison, a sick lullaby.
The torchlight revealed him hunched shoulders, eyes glinting like shards of glass. His breath smelled of iron and old rot. A twisted shadow wearing the guise of a man. His lips curled into that grotesque smile Duō Yī had come to fear more than death.
"Open up," the Gardener crooned.
"I have finally perfected it. And you… you're almost ripe."
His words dripped with reverence and hunger.
"A true marvel," he whispered, caressing the trembling outline of Duō Yī's chest as if admiring a divine artifact. "A marvel, an apex body that can contain twelve times the qi of any ordinary Qi Refinement Realm cultivator.... Oh, Heaven truly favored me. A pill refined from you will take me beyond the Dragon's Gate. No more barriers. No more limits!" he muttered, eyes feverish.
Duō Yī's breath caught in his throat. He knew what came next. He reached into his robes, revealing nine crimson pills, blood-colored orbs pulsating like tiny hearts, emanating a sickly, bloodstained aura. The scent was metallic, oppressive, the aroma of death and madness intertwined. Duo Yi's trembling hands tried to resist, but exhaustion and despair had drained him dry. Sometimes, the Gardener fed him two pills at once. Sometimes five. The price escalated exponentially, but never had he been forced to swallow nine at once. Until now.
The last thread of sanity inside him snapped. He began to thrash wildly, teeth gnashing, nails clawing at his bindings until his fingers bled.
He screamed.He bit.He clawed.He fought like a rabid beast, the terror in him older than thought itself.
"No!"
"NO!"
"PLEASE! PLEASE!"
"DON'T COME CLOSER!"
"AHHHHH!"
His voice shattered into screams, raw and primal, echoing through the cavernous darkness. Tears blurred his vision, yet he kept fighting—fighting the inevitable, fighting the abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.
The Gardener only chuckled, unbothered. "Now, now… open up." A bony hand seized his jaw like an iron vice.He forced Duō Yī's jaw apart with a strength born of obsession. Duō Yī tried to twist away but the Gardener's grip was unyielding. One by one, he shoved the pulsating orbs down the youth's throat. Each pill burned as it slid down like swallowing molten suns searing his flesh from within.
His body convulsed, veins writhing under his skin like black serpents. His pale flesh turned translucent, revealing the chaotic storm of qi rampaging inside. His once-white hair hung in filthy, blood-matted clumps. His once-clear blue eyes were now red and broken, trembling like a candle in the wind.His robes, once pristine, were tattered, stained with dirt and blood—emblems of a fallen warrior.
Veins ruptured beneath his pallid skin, blood pouring from his eyes, ears, and nose, seven orifices bleeding in unison. His body swelled grotesquely, muscles tearing, bones cracking—an unholy symphony of destruction.
Nine pills.
Nine deaths.
A sickening crack,his skull, ribs, limbs—breaking apart like decayed wood.
The pressure within him grew unbearable. His eyes burst with a wet pop, fluids mixing with tears and blood.
The spasm lasted half an hour. Every twitch of his body sounded like the snapping of tendons, the tearing of muscle.
Then… stillness.
Only the faintest heartbeat remained—slow, struggling, refusing to die.
Thump.
…Thump.
The Gardener stepped forward, expression trembling between awe and glee.
"Such tenacity," the Gardener's voice was a whisper of awe and madness. "As expected of a sacred physique."
With a lazy flick of his wrist, the vines binding Duō Yī's corpse loosened. His body fell to the ground with a dull thud. The Gardener waved his hand again, and roots slithered forward, dragging the limp body toward a massive bronze cauldron etched with ancient patterns. The cauldron's mouth yawned open like a hungry beast.
CRACK.
CRACK.
CRACK.
The sound of pestle meeting steel reverberated through the cavern. Each strike was methodical, almost reverent. Blood and bone were crushed into pulp, steam rising from the cauldron as the Gardener worked, muttering incomprehensible chants between each strike.
Hours passed. The rhythmic pounding slowed, then stopped. When he emerged, his face was aglow with satisfaction.In his hand, two pills. Deep crimson, almost black, throbbed faintly as though alive. The very air seemed to recoil around them.
"Perfect," he breathed.
He grinned a mouth full of crooked yellow teeth. Then, with unholy delight, he tossed both pills into his mouth. And with that, all that remained of Duo Yi was devoured his suffering, his will, his very flesh swallowed by madness.
They hit his tongue, and his body shuddered violently. His veins glowed. The cavern trembled.
"I feel it!" he roared, voice echoing with ecstasy.
"I FEEL IT!"
"YES! YESSS!"
His laughter grew, booming, deranged, filling every crevice of the underground chamber.
"Truly… the perfect ingredient! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The sound clawed at the walls, merging with the rumble of thunder outside. Rain began to fall heavy, endless, merciless.
The Gardener stood there, back arched, arms spread wide, consumed by madness. The light of the torches flickered and died one by one,the sound of water mingled with the unending cackle of the madman, Only his laughter remained, echoing through the darkness.
Laughter, and the sound of rain.