Before I could clearly make out the words, the thin man visibly rallied and started walking towards us again.

As he passed right in front of us, we were finally able to decipher what he was saying.

The Japanese man spoke in Chinese: "Master, I answer your summons. I am here now."

Though we had no idea why this fellow spoke Chinese, we knew instantly he was under some form of hypnotic control, and he was heading directly toward the person manipulating him.

Liang Qian and I exchanged no words and followed him immediately.

The man walked straight to the gaping hole blown into the middle of the corridor and looked up.

I knew he intended to climb through, but I never imagined that despite his severe injuries, a mere spring would launch him over two meters high, allowing him to grasp the edge of the ceiling and vault upward.

Liang Qian and I admitted our own inferiority and quickly followed, scrambling up the stack of tables and chairs I had previously arranged.

By the time we labored our way up, the man had vanished.

Cursing our own uselessness silently, we began to discuss splitting up to search.

However, just as we were making arrangements, a woman's voice drifted from the adjacent room.

Liang Qian and I were greatly relieved we hadn't spoken, and we crept toward that door together.

The woman's voice was quiet, yet thick with palpable anger and hatred.

Then, suddenly, a man’s agonizing scream ripped through the air.

The cry was more hideous than a pig slaughter, spreading through the cabin as a howling, ghost-like echo that made both our hearts pound with terror.

After a moment, the man's cries began to subside, though constant groans continued.

Hearing him struggle so violently for breath, I began to imagine what kind of demon must inhabit that room.

Countless monstrous images flashed through my mind, even summoning the East Sea Crab God—that creature with the body of a crab and the face of a man—that we had encountered before.

At that moment, Liang Qian murmured, "That voice... it sounds like the sorceress from Durban Village."

Long Jia! My mind went utterly blank.

Because I realized, with startling clarity, that I had completely forgotten about this woman from beginning to end.

Jie Yuting had specifically insisted on bringing her onto the ship, but she had been so taciturn since boarding that everyone had simply overlooked her existence.

I hadn't even thought to ask where she was when we encountered Da Xiong.

Thinking back now, it seemed this woman had been concealing something since we got aboard, and now, her true nature was finally being revealed to us.

"Are you sure?" I quickly asked Liang Qian.

Liang Qian nodded, saying, "Even though we’ve exchanged very few words, I vividly remember her nasal intonation."

As she spoke, the woman's voice sounded again from inside the room.

This time, the words she spoke were still indistinct, almost like chanting a spell.

But I definitely recognized the distinct nasal quality Liang Qian had mentioned.

"If it's her, then there’s no need for us to be hesitant. Let’s go in together and demand an explanation," I told Liang Qian beside me.

I finished speaking and waited for her reply, but several seconds passed, and Liang Qian made no sound.

Puzzled, I turned my head to look at her, starting to ask, "What do you—"

I never finished the word "see," because the sight that greeted me sent a shockwave through my scalp.

Instead of Liang Qian’s face, I was staring at the face of an old man covered in white hair.

I thought, What is this? Can Liang Qian transform as well?

But at that moment, the white-haired old man curved his lips into a grotesque smile, and his hand, like an eagle's talon, instantly clamped around my neck.

The sheer strength behind the grip was immense; I instantly felt the grinding sound of my neck compressing as I gasped desperately, yet not a single molecule of oxygen entered my trachea.

The white-haired old man hoisted me up with one hand, his eerie smile never faltering, clearly savoring my agony.

I kicked and struggled futilely; the man's body felt like forged iron.

Just as my vision began to darken and my chest felt ready to explode, the old man spoke, "You can turn into me, can't you? Change into me again, let me see."

With that, he flung me away like a stone, sending me soaring.

I felt the wind roar past my ears as I slammed into the wall with a deafening bang, only to be violently thrown back by the impact, crashing heavily onto the floor.

After coughing twice, a searing pain shot through my chest, and thick, black blood, viscous and bubbly, began to stream from my lips. Whether it was my lungs or some internal organ that was ruined, the pain was utterly soul-shredding.

I tried to push myself up, but my arms had no strength left to lift me.

I had been injured before, but never like this.

Previously, hitting a wall would cause dizziness, but this time my consciousness was unnervingly sharp.

I’d heard that such extreme clarity only comes when a person is close to death, leading me to believe my end was near.

Blood continued to dribble from my mouth, and precisely then, the white-haired old man delivered a brutal kick to my stomach.

Though the blow felt like my insides were being torn apart, I lacked the strength to curl up and protect myself.

All that escaped my throat was a gurgling, miserable sound, and blood bubbles erupted from my nostrils.

The old man started to raise his foot for another kick, but a hand shot out from behind and seized his wrist.

Lying on my side, I saw it was a woman.

This woman was familiar: Dr. Meichuan.

However, in stark contrast to her previous immaculate appearance, she now looked utterly disheveled. Her lipstick was smeared, her hair looked like a tangled bird's nest, her face was crisscrossed with small cuts, and one arm hung uselessly at her side, clearly injured.

There was no doubt: this must have been Jie Yuting’s doing.

I had tricked Meichuan before, and her current state was my fault; I knew she must hate me intensely.

Yet, as she looked at me, despite the venom in her gaze, her hand was tightly gripping the white-haired old man’s wrist.

Just as I wondered why she would save me, I heard her speak: "If he dies, there’s no way to turn him into a Thunder Corpse. Someone, cut off its legs first, then inject the cerebral toxin. I want to make it a Thunder Corpse that can only crawl on the ground, subjected to my eternal..."

Hearing her command, the white-haired old man ceased kicking and cackled sinisterly, "You certainly know how to play, my dear!"

With that, he pulled Meichuan close and kissed her.

I was speechless, desperate to hurl obscenities at the vile pair, but all I could do was grit my teeth and watch them, my eyes burning with rage.

My fury was a consuming fire with nowhere to vent; I felt like I was grinding my teeth down to dust.

At that moment, two soldiers carrying Japanese swords stepped forward.

They laid my body flat, rolled my trousers up to my thighs, exposing my legs, wiped their blades with white handkerchiefs, and positioned the swords to strike.

I thought it was over, closing my eyes tightly and clenching my jaw until it ached.

But then, a woman's voice rang out: "Let her go, you devils!"

As soon as she spoke, the woman stumbled forward, colliding with and knocking aside the two soldiers with the swords.

It was Liang Qian, and a wave of intense anxiety washed over me.

I tried to urge her to mind her own business to avoid torture, but the words caught in my throat, emerging only as ragged gasps.

The white-haired old man immediately seized Liang Qian by the hair and yanked her into the air.

Liang Qian's face went white with pain, her scalp threatening to tear away, but she held firm between clenched teeth.

The old man grinned menacingly and said, "She’s quite lovely, especially those deep, dark eyes. If we inject the cerebral toxin directly into the eyeballs, the sight of the skin atrophying must be spectacular. Come, give me a syringe of the toxin."

I remembered the withered faces of the previous Thunder Corpses—it was the result of that toxin.

And now, Liang Qian was about to suffer the same fate.

My heart was breaking with sympathetic pain, but watching the white-haired old man raise the syringe toward Liang Qian’s eye, I was utterly powerless...