Paintings of Terror

Chapter 32: The Second Death Condition



Last night was the first time Wei Dong had seen a person be killed by some horrifying, undefyable power since he had started to go into paintings.

The immense fear and helplessness chilled him down to the bone.

Wei Dong knew that he was like an ostrich. He was great at deceiving himself and sticking his head into the sand. He would always try to avoid thinking about anything he didn’t want to think carefully about.

During the day, he could joke around to escape this oppressive fear. But at night, there was no way to fight off the fear. There was no way to press it down.

Wei Dong felt like the fear had already snapped his last strand of reason. Suddenly, he felt a wave of mania and anger break through the walls. He looked up to look at the calm and composed Mu Yiran a distance away and at Ke Xun, who had always helped him and protected them since they had been young. Their strength and fearlessness made him seem even weaker, causing him to feel even worse about himself. He wasn’t willing to be tormented by fear anymore. He couldn’t take being made to see how pitiful and powerless he really was anymore.

“Is it wrong to be a normal person who’s afraid of death?!” Wei Dong wiped his face with a hand. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his emotions were unstable. “That’s right. I’m stupid and weak. That means I should die, right?!”

“Dong zi, calm down.” Ke Xun sensed that Wei Dong’s emotions had suddenly changed. He reached over to place a hand on the other’s shoulder but Wei Dong pushed him away.

“I don’t want your pity.” Wei Dong took a few ragged breaths. He knew that he was falling apart but he couldn’t help himself. “You don’t want to die, but I want to die even less! My mom and dad are waiting for me at home. There’s also my work. I’m not alone like you. Ever since your parents…. To put it nicely, you’ve become disillusioned with the world. You’re carefree and nonchalant about everything. To put it harshly, you have nothing left to live for. You’re just barely getting by. But what about me? I’m afraid of dying. I value my life. I want to live. I want an ordinary life like before. I fucking….”

Wei Dong’s voice had a nasal quality to it. He covered his head and buried his face in-between his knees.

Ke Xun didn’t say anything. He sat there motionlessly, his eyes on the raggedy rug beneath them.

Mu Yiran was also silent. There was only the sounds of Wei Dong’s muffled, rough breathing inside the tent.

This continued for a long time. But slowly, it slowed down. The sound also became a lot more empty. It circled around them and started to sound like it was above them as well.

Ke Xun pressed down on the nape of Wei Dong’s neck. He whispered into his ear: “Dong zi, don’t make a sound.”

Wei Dong immediately froze. He didn’t dare move.

The snow outside the tent was deathly white. A large, thick, black mass gradually fell to the ground from the night sky that seemed many times closer to the ground compared to the day time sky. Slowly, eight thick and solid arms, a trunk and a head could be made out. The thing landed on two bent legs and slowly began to walk.

Mu Yiran lied down and signaled to Ke Xun with gestures. He grabbed a few marvels of Peru and held them by his chest.

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

As soon as Mu Yiran settled down, he felt the guy behind him scoot over and hug him. Mu Yiran’s body went rigid. He reached over to squeeze the hand Ke Xun had around his waist with a lot of force. Ke Xun broke out into a cold sweat from the pain.

“There isn’t enough space. Bear with it.” Ke Xun’s quiet voice drifted into his ear. “Dong zi’s about to be pushed out.”

A long time later, Mu Yiran forced himself to let go of the other’s wrist.”

Suddenly, he noticed the marvels of Peru in his arms. The vein in his forehead throbbed.

This person was the most adept at seizing the moment he had ever met. Give him an inch and he’d take a mile!

The giant shadow slowly moved towards Sha Liu and Li Ziling’s tent. In the end, Qin Ci had become their third member. The giant shadow bent down to examine their tent. Its arms waved through the air uncontrollably.

After staring at the tent for a while, it walked away, heading for the tent the family of three resided in.

After a long period of observation, the giant shadow once again moved to the tent Ke Xun and co. resided in.

The giant shadow loomed over the tent, its long, coarse breaths drifting into their ears. Ke Xun could faintly make out the sound of something rubbing together. He then saw the thing’s fingernail scratching at the fabric of their tent.

—Had it chosen them?

Ke Xun felt Wei Dong trembling behind him. But he couldn’t do anything to help him. He couldn’t even help himself.

Maybe it was because this was his second painting—which meant that he had more experience with facing death—but he was more used to death now and had a greater tolerance against it. Or maybe it was because Wei Dong had lost control of his emotions and had poked Ke Xun’s sore spot that he had been actively avoiding for a long time. In any case, now that he was once again on death’s door, he suddenly realized how he truly felt.

What surprised Ke Xun was that he wasn’t particularly afraid of dying.

However, it wasn’t like what Wei Dong had said. The reason he muddled his way through life wasn’t because he had lost all desire to live, but because he no longer had anything to worry about or hold onto. Because of that, he lived life very casually and just did whatever he wanted to.

He wasn’t afraid of death, but he was still willing to work hard to live.

His belief wasn’t money. Actually, he probably didn’t believe in anything. Or rather, following his heart was probably what he really believed in.

The scratching sound suddenly disappeared.

The giant shadow moved away from their tent and slowly headed toward the tent of Zhao Dan, Zhou Bin and Ma Zhenhua.

Suddenly, shrill screams erupted in the night. The giant shadow stood up tall—its head in the clouds and its feet on the ground—as its arms twisted around. It held onto someone who was struggling with all their might to escape.

“No—please—let me go—I don’t want to die—” Ma Zhenhua’s gut-wrenching voice sounded like it ripped out from his chest. But a second later, the giant shadow pinched his scalp and tugged lightly.

Ke Xun shut his eyes. Ma Zhenhua’s ghastly screams pierced his eardrums.

The screams lasted for a while before they slowly grew fainter. Eventually, they disappeared.

No one else died that night.

Maybe it was because he didn’t sleep last night or because Ma Zhenhua’s death had strained his nerves to the point of exhaustion, but Ke Xun had ended up falling asleep after that. By the time he woke up, it was already light out. Mu Yiran had already disappeared but Wei Dong was sleeping like a pig beside him.

Ke Xun left the tent. He saw Mu Yiran standing outside bathed in the light of dawn, motionless. He was looking at Zhou Bin’s tent.

Ke Xun walked over to him and followed his gaze. He saw a badly mutilated, bloody body near the tent.

That was Ma Zhenhua who had been skinned alive.

“What the hell’s going on? Don’t we have the offerings’ protection? Why did someone die?!” Zhou Bin fell to the ground, his head between his hands. He was falling apart.

Qin Ci blocked the girls’ views and told them not to go over there. The Geng Family didn’t even come out of their tent.

“It’s a new method of death.” Ke Xun’s gaze shifted to Mu Yiran. “Looks like the offerings are useless. It also looks like the number of people in a tent isn’t related to who gets picked.”

“The number of people in the tents is only the first death condition.” Mu Yiran said while mulling over the issue at hand. “If this condition isn’t fulfilled, the creature will move on to the second condition in making its choice.”

“What do you think the second condition is then? Do you think it has to do with the offerings?” Ke Xun also pondered over this.

“Perhaps,” Mu Yiran said.

“I don’t know if I’m just imagining things,” Ke Xun said, “But I feel like the shadow was bigger than it had been yesterday.”

“Are you certain about that?” Mu Yiran looked at him.

Ke Xun carefully went over his memories. He nodded. “Yes. I can also confirm that it’s definitely not due to lights or whatever. It was definitely bigger and taller than it had been on the first night.”

Mu Yiran lowered his eyes, deep in thought. Ke Xun didn’t disturb him. He returned to their tent and woke Wei Dong up. By the time he exited the tent again, Ma Zhenhua’s bloody corpse had already been covered by Qin Ci with a ragged blanket.

“All of his skin was peeled off.” Qin Ci whispered to Mu Yiran in the main tent. “There was nothing left. Everything was gone. I think that this is similar to the last painting. Something’s deciding our method of death.”

“Does it have to do with the fact that we all had different offerings?” Sha Liu chimed in.

“But that doesn’t explain why Ma Zhenhua was chosen,” Qin Ci said.

“Maybe it’s because Ma Zhenhua didn’t participate in the preparation of offerings.” Zhou Bin had already gotten over his breakdown. He had been comforting his frightened girlfriend all this time. “He had been suffering from extreme fear the whole time. He was a cowardly guy. He didn’t help when we were collecting the meats at all. He only stood on the side and trembled.”

“That makes sense.” Qin Ci nodded. “Except for him, the rest of us had been searching for the offerings.”

“That means that none of us will die so long as we all participate in the gathering of offerings?” Sha Liu asked.

Qin Ci didn’t respond. He simply lowered his gaze and pondered over the matter.

Mu Yiran spoke while thinking about it: “It is clear that the rules that govern death in this painting are different from that of the previous painting. In the last painting, the rules decided how we would die. I think that in this painting, who dies is determined by the fulfillment of conditions.

“The painting has set up several conditions that aid in deciding who shall die next. If someone fulfills a condition, they will be chosen. However, if no one fulfills the condition, then the painting will make its choice via a second condition.

“And so, the more conditions are added, the more stringent they become. As a result, the probability that we will be able to escape death becomes increasingly smaller. That means that it is impossible for no one to die.”

The veterans all exchanged knowing looks.

Qin Ci was pensive. “That’s to say, on the first night, the condition that led to being chosen was being alone. On the second night, it was the person who didn’t participate in the gathering of offerings.”

“No.” Mu Yiran looked at him. “I think that the two conditions were compounded. The first night’s condition was being alone in a tent. If someone had been alone last night, this condition would still be in effect. However, because no one was alone, a second condition appeared. However, the first condition is still present. That means that as long as you fulfill one of the two conditions—being alone or not participating in the gathering of offerings—you will be chosen.”

Qin Ci’s gaze grew heavy. “That means that every night, a new condition will be added. So what you’re saying is that a new condition will appear on the third night and that who will die will depend on all three of these conditions?”

When everyone heard this, they were astonished.

What did this mean? This meant that the tent quota had not been eliminated and that it will always be in effect.


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