Chapter 121
“Alright.” Sensing the sudden quiet in the air, Jiang Jitang withdrew his previous question. He had forgotten that these were all public officials, upright and principled people. Even if the monster was humanoid, in their eyes, it was still “human.”
“Forget what I asked before. Now, what are you planning to do?”
Old Zhang exchanged a glance with the others. The rest subtly indicated that he, knowing Jiang Jitang, should speak first.
“We plan to go in as visitors and follow the footprints to identify the owners…”
“Too slow. Why not just catch them directly?” The curious one asked again. At first, he had intended just to observe, but their pace was so slow he couldn’t resist speaking.
“Ah? Catch them directly?” Old Zhang asked instinctively. As a public official, he was used to waiting for evidence before taking action and instinctively stood on the side of justice—sometimes less flexible than civilians.
“These people live together. If there really was collective sexual assault, do you think anyone could hide it?” Jiang Jitang rested his chin on his hand. “The bystanders are accomplices too. You’re skilled—pick a suitable household, control them, then interrogate separately. You’ll get the answers.”
“Good idea,” Wu Gou nodded. He hadn’t expected to be the first to agree.
“I think it’s a good idea too,” Wei He said.
Old Zhang stared in surprise at his first-time collaborators. They weren’t rigid; thinking it through, it really was the most efficient method. They just weren’t used to being the “villains” yet.
Following the path to the village, it was evening—fishermen returning home. After observing for a while, they selected their “targets”: a small four-person household with children and an elderly member.
The primary reason for choosing them: the woman showed signs of past violence. She endured it numbly, but occasionally harbored hidden resentment.
This was an unstable household, easy to break from within.
Moreover, a violent man who would harm his own wife could potentially harm the villagers he considered “communal slaves.”
Even based on speculation, any adult male on the island could be a “participant.” Randomly detaining someone wouldn’t cause injustice.
The five silently assigned tasks by hand signals. Tasks were delegated, and as superior and healer, Jiang Jitang was naturally exempt. He didn’t mind.
Those with professional training moved silently, swiftly entering the house, controlling the few inside, covering their mouths, and removing them.
Wei He handled cleanup and erased traces.
The four locals were taken to a secluded forest outside the village, next to the sea—a perfect place for interrogation where yelling wouldn’t alert anyone.
As Jiang Jitang approached with hands in his pockets, the young couple in the house was already being interrogated. The man claimed ignorance, while the woman wept uncontrollably.
“They’re lying.” The team specialized in detecting lies. The man knew more than he admitted and might be one of the perpetrators. The woman knew this as well.
Shi Xiuming crushed the man’s arm. He endured the pain while denying everything. The woman did the same—no matter the questioning, she stayed silent.
“So resilient?” Shi Xiuming was baffled.
“Probably due to the clan,” Wu Gou realized. Being local, he understood the power of clans. Two hundred years ago, clans could rival local governments. Even now, their influence was strong.
“Perhaps the clan elders or rules stated that revealing the island’s events would result in clan elimination.”
“Is clan elimination worse than death?” Old Zhang didn’t understand.
“It turns them into wandering spirits. They still believed in the clan’s protection after death,” Wu Gou explained.
“Then what do we do? We can’t break these two, and the others are probably just as tough.”
“Can I try?” Jiang Jitang, youthful in appearance, smiled and walked forward, gesturing. “Bring the old woman and the boy.”
As the superior, and with curiosity from the team, the elderly woman and child were brought before the young couple.
The man remained composed, but the woman broke down, breaking free from Old Zhang’s grip to clutch the boy.
“He doesn’t know. Don’t hurt him. He truly knows nothing.”
“Butterfingers,” Jiang Jitang silently noted. Now he understood why public officials’ game levels weren’t as high as casual players—their morality was too strong.
Old Zhang reluctantly let go; after all, these were dungeon “monsters.”
“Doctor…” he whispered to Song Hechuan, then crouched in front of the terrified mother and child, eyes twinkling.
“This your child? Strong build. With proper guidance, he could achieve great things. How do you usually teach him? Do you hope he grows like you, or like your husband? Have you told him about the island Guardian?”
The woman shuddered violently. “Please, I beg you…”
Before she finished, Jiang Jitang covered the boy’s ears with his hands. Softly, he said: “You said he doesn’t know, but you must know, right? You seem to have only this child. Did you fail to raise a second, or is it punishment noted by the King of Hell, so there can’t be another?”
Using magic to counter superstition, Jiang Jitang shook her. The woman trembled, pale, lips moving as if to speak.
“Tell me, and I’ll spare the child. If anything happens to him, you lose your child, your descendants, everything. In a hundred years, no one will even remember you. Pitiful, isn’t it?”
“I…”
The woman opened her mouth, but the previously meek man shouted: “If you speak, I’ll kill you!”
“So noisy,” Jiang Jitang frowned, then smiled chillingly. “Here’s a chance.”
He looked at the woman: “If you speak voluntarily, I’ll spare you and your child, but kill this man and the elderly woman. The sins are his; justice is served.
“If your husband speaks first, I’ll kill you and your child, and spare them.
“Heaven, earth, and we know the truth; your clan elders and rules do not. Decide.”
The game began.
“Speak, son! You must live! The Zhang family must not die out!” The elderly woman reacted first, struggling fiercely even while bound.
The man’s eyes flashed with cruelty as he prepared to speak, but the woman’s sharp voice cut in:
“I’ll speak. Spare me and my child, I’ll tell!”
“Too late,” Jiang Jitang said regretfully to the stunned man.
Before the words finished, Song Hechuan, silently present, slashed the man’s throat and carotid artery. Blood sprayed; he collapsed and twitched twice before dying.
The elderly woman, splashed with blood, rolled her eyes and fainted.
Song Hechuan showed no trace of shyness; he caressed his scalpel, savoring the clean, precise kill.
Jiang Jitang held the boy’s head: “Good boy, don’t look back.”
Old Zhang swallowed nervously but maintained a fierce expression. Jiang Jitang’s dungeon style was startling.
Though he spoke to the boy, his eyes watched the woman, smiling.
“You chose correctly. Now, the rude ones won’t trouble us. You may speak.”
The woman was dazed, shocked. The man was dead; her world seemed to collapse, then not. Her gaze shifted to the child; the gray, directionless eyes now held light.
“I’ll tell you everything.”
Jiang Jitang interrogated; Song Hechuan observed; Wu Gou watched with interest; Wei He pondered; only Shi Xiuming felt out of place.
“We feel like villains,” Shi Xiuming muttered.
He sometimes did reckless things in dungeons, but threatening a mother with her child and killing like chickens was unthinkable. Despite his appearance, he was a good man in real life.
“This dungeon is special. The villagers may be scripted villains; killing them has little impact. Following conventional methods would be inefficient,” Wei He explained, giving Shi Xiuming a moral anchor.
“I thought Song Hechuan’s mental state was already risky. Manager Jiang, maybe let him do more,” Wu Gou said quietly.
“I’m fine,” Song Hechuan smiled politely.
Old Zhang shook his head—normally gentle Jiang Jitang, but in the dungeon, he was like a different person.
By now, Jiang Jitang had learned much.
As rumors said, many men had committed atrocities against the Island Guardian. This had persisted for years, from when the boy was nine, now seven or eight years later.
She only learned this after marrying in. The village’s women were outsiders who only discovered the horrors after coming to Sansheng Island.
Young women hadn’t been fully assimilated. Some sympathized, some numb. The older generation was consumed by the island, even encouraging sons to vent at the tall building, forgetting they too could be victims.
Her mother-in-law was such a person.
Her dead drunk husband once said, beating her violently, that the Guardian was desensitized, like a corpse, unreactive, uninteresting.
Her body was also broken; soon, a new Guardian would have to be chosen.
“Why endure so long and remain numb like a corpse, yet suddenly go mad? Did something happen the Guardian couldn’t accept, causing total collapse?” Jiang Jitang pondered.
He considered real-world perverse cases.
“Did the Guardian’s father or brother go? Or her sister or niece could become the new Guardian?”
The woman’s pupils dilated.
“They… her father and brother went. I heard they wanted her to choose her niece as the next Guardian. The chosen family gets compensation—two big bags of rice, a pig leg.”
Jiang Jitang slowly released the boy’s ears, stood, and watched the trembling woman clutch her child.
He recalled unpleasant memories: pushed into a river by a cousin, surviving barely, only to be locked in a dark cellar by the only blood relatives he had hoped would protect him. He became a true orphan.
Whether it was a final straw from oppressive family or a new girl destined to become a victim, the Guardian’s family couldn’t escape this judgment.
“Which family are the Guardian’s parents and siblings in?”
Having revealed much, the woman told them the original Guardian family and nearby symbols.
Jiang Jitang turned to Old Zhang: “Find a boat to send them away—alive or dead, depends on luck.”
The woman hugged her child, thankful.
The mother and child left. The team stood in the small forest. Darkness fell, wind cut through the trees, sounding like shaking blades.
Old Zhang patted his pockets—no cigarettes. He looked at Jiang Jitang, awaiting his decision.
“Manager Jiang, now that we know the Guardian rumors are true, what next?”
Wu Gou had called him Manager Jiang out of courtesy, now sincerely. A military man and decade-long intelligence officer, he respected those stronger than himself.
“Killing, burning the ancestral hall, blowing up graves, saving people,” Jiang Jitang answered.
“Ah?”
“The Guardian follows old customs, but the current generation wasn’t the only victims. When selecting this girl, villagers knew what she would face.
“Elders keeping barbaric human-eating traditions should die. Men acting like beasts should die. Those who feigned ignorance should be half-dead. Perhaps only the ignorant children are innocent.”
Jiang Jitang produced a sharp-edged engineer’s shovel.
“This island is beyond saving. All adults have eaten humans. If I were the Guardian, I’d burn this cradle of evil. ‘They’ are beyond saving, but some children can still be saved.”
