Lost in the Otherworld

Slowly, it descended, with strands of hair fanning out in all directions, momentarily blotting out the sky and moon. An overwhelming darkness pressed down upon the four of them, like the end of the world.

“Isn’t this…” Fat Jun finally remembered, “the same hair monster that attacked us that night?”

“Exactly.”

Gao Yang felt a chill in his heart. Frankly, even if all five were in peak condition, they might not stand a chance against this thing—let alone now, in their battered, depleted state.

He glanced at Officer Huang. “Does the Zodiac Organization know about this?”

Officer Huang’s face darkened. “I fear they knew, and that’s why they sent us.”

“This isn’t a test. It’s a death sentence,” Gao Yang’s voice carried a note of resentment.

“We’ve been used,” Qing Ling said coldly. “We’re nothing but cannon fodder.”

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault. Wu Dahai didn’t seem like a bad guy. I thought I could trust my instincts…” Officer Huang was filled with guilt.

Gao Yang shook his head. “It’s not your fault. Joining the organization was our choice.”

“Enough! Think of something! I don’t want to die…” Fat Jun shouted, panicking.

“Qing Ling, can you still fight?” Gao Yang asked.

Qing Ling remained silent. She had at least three fractures, and the muscles in her right arm were severely torn, making it impossible to exert any strength. Though she still held the Tang sword, it was mere posturing.

Of course, she could use her metal ability, but at level 2, it was only effective for controlling projectiles against humans. Against a creature of this magnitude, it was utterly useless.

Gao Yang had already thought of this, and Qing Ling’s silence spoke volumes.

—Escape? Impossible.

—Fight? Certain death.

All rational thought told Gao Yang: this is a dead end.

Nothing is more excruciating than waiting to die, but this torment didn’t last long. The hair, as vast as the sky, closed in on the four of them like a black, inverted carnivorous flower.

“Everyone, be careful!”

Gao Yang shouted, but it was in vain.

Fat Jun was the first to be ensnared by the black strands. He gave up resisting entirely, closing his eyes and sobbing, hoping for a swift death free of pain.

Officer Huang was the next to be captured. He struggled briefly but was bound into a tight bundle within seconds.

Gao Yang fared no better. The agility points he had hastily added did little to help him evade the entangling black hair.

Qing Ling held out the longest. She wielded her metal ability, controlling daggers, blades, and the Tang sword, spinning them around her in a rapid orbit, severing countless strands. But even she couldn’t prevent the hair from slipping through her defenses. In a mere six or seven seconds, she, too, was tightly bound.

As the hair tightened, Gao Yang’s feet slowly left the ground, and he, along with his three companions, was lifted into the air.

Qing Ling, the last to be captured, seemed to be the creature’s most desired prey. She was pulled toward the monster at an alarming speed, soon hanging upside down in front of the skull.

The black strands entwined around her, writhing like cold, slender serpents, slowly weaving into Qing Ling’s waterfall-like black hair, as if they sought to merge with it.

At that moment, the skull suddenly spoke. Its voice, hollow, chilling, and twisted, was that of a woman. “Hair, hair, such beautiful hair…”

Qing Ling stared at the skull without a trace of fear.

Suddenly, she opened her mouth, and the small blade hidden beneath her tongue flew out, aiming for the skull’s brow.

“Metal!” Qing Ling shouted, focusing all her control on the blade.

It was futile. The blade, too thin and fragile, was crushed by the immense psychic pressure, leaving only a faint scratch on the skull’s brow.

But this attempt at a sneak attack enraged the creature.

Hundreds of strands twisted together, instantly forming a solid “black needle,” which, like a scorpion’s tail, arched and pierced through Qing Ling’s chest from below.

“Qing Ling!” Gao Yang cried out.