Chapter Twelve: The Fifth-Generation Lackey

(Outside Story): Tang Monk rides a divine steed, Sun Wukong travels on drifting clouds, Pigsy is infatuated with Little Yue, and Sandy pretends to be the Dashing Brother. Text messages these days are all about being awesome. A gentleman helps others achieve their best, while a petty man is beloved by eccentrics; in poverty, one keeps his own counsel, but in wealth, he gathers wives and concubines. If you ask how much sorrow one can have, it’s like a horde of eunuchs visiting a brothel.

But let’s return to the main story.

The dormitory wall is made with a metal frame, hardly serving as a barrier at all. Every day, dozens of people jump over the low courtyard wall, yet the school never investigates. Outside, darkness reigns. The business card I handed that lecherous hand bore only four words: “Wait at the spot.” Honestly, I wrote that note as a joke, never expecting it to come in handy. Night has long since fallen, and it’s probably past eleven by now. The streets are nearly empty, save for a few cargo trucks and ladies just leaving nightclubs.

Thinking carefully, the meeting place is quite far from here. I hid in a shadowy corner, unfurled my wings, and flew toward the agreed location.

I have to say, having wings is a blessing—they’re fast. Still, I sometimes curse the heavens for not bestowing them on me sooner. In just over ten minutes, I arrived and saw that lecherous hand—let’s call him that for now—sitting on a roadside bench, waiting for me.

Since no one else was around, I landed beside him, restored my human form, and walked over. Clearly sensing my presence, he looked up and said, “You’re here.” There was something indescribable in his voice, whether excitement or sorrow, I couldn’t tell.

I gave a perfunctory “Mm,” and asked, “Tell me, what is all this about? Why are the other ten Corpse Kings interfering in human affairs? By rights, you should be at the borders.” As I said these words, I felt like some savior of mankind. When I looked at him, I saw tears streaming down his face—I never would have thought he could cry.

He told me his name was Wang Yong, and he’d been waiting here for over two hours. Of course, the tears weren’t because he’d waited so long. He wanted to tell me his story, and since it concerned the fate of humanity, I nodded. He led me into a small nightclub nearby, booked a private room, and began his tale.

Wang Yong said he had once been a business manager at the Wang Corporation. Because he opposed his superior’s embezzlement, he incurred that man’s wrath. The superior, Li Tian, was the nephew of the city’s prominent Li Group chairman—a man who could not tolerate the slightest offense. For this grievance, Li Tian hired an assassin to wipe out Wang Yong’s family. The killer, a supernatural assassin, did not finish Wang Yong off but instead left two bite marks on his arm, declaring that Wang Yong would live forever in a state neither fully human nor fully monster.

When Wang Yong awoke, he found he had changed. He was no longer human. He didn’t know what was wrong, only that he was terribly hungry. Yet when he tried to eat, all food was tasteless. He tried different things, but nothing satisfied him. Then, seeing his wife lying in a pool of blood, the scent of her blood was so tempting that he licked a few drops—and realized he had become a zombie. Not wanting anyone to discover his secret, he secretly buried the bodies of his murdered wife and son in the suburbs, then hid in the city, waiting for a chance to avenge his family.

Wang Yong waited three years in this city, but his enemy never appeared. Men, however, have their flaws, and his was lust. Even after losing his family, he couldn’t change his ways. Had I not encountered him on the bus, this fellow would probably have become a menace in society. Fortunately, I caught him. Since I was lacking a lackey, I figured I might as well train him as my bodyguard.

I tossed him a carton of sour yogurt, which he caught. “Boss, you know we don’t care for this stuff,” Wang Yong said, trying to throw it away, but I stopped him.

I told him to open it. He did, took a sip, and immediately smiled, visibly pleased. Excitedly, he asked, “Where did you get this? You know, I only manage to steal some from the hospital once a month.” He continued to drink greedily, his fangs even emerging.

Though it was dark, we weren’t alone on the street. I slapped him, exclaiming, “Are you looking for trouble? Do you know where you are? This is a public street—you trying to scare someone to death?”

Wang Yong relaxed, his fangs retracting, and scratched his head sheepishly. “Boss, I haven’t eaten my fill in a week. It’s a rare treat, so I got carried away.” He gave a silly laugh.

Following up, I said, “Would you like to eat your fill every day, without killing, and still get your revenge?” I knew my offer would tempt him to become my follower. After all, a fifth-generation zombie is nothing in the eyes of other Corpse Kings—let alone fit to bargain or negotiate.

Wang Yong paused, his mouth full of blood, and replied sadly, “How could a mere fifth-generation zombie serve a great figure like you? Years ago, I met a Corpse King like you. I wanted to join him and ask for help avenging my family, but his men beat me and told me I was overestimating myself, not knowing my place. I was disheartened and have wandered in confusion ever since.” With that, he lowered his head, no longer daring to look at me.

A fifth-generation zombie who has endured so much suffering and still emerged with such a state of mind is truly extraordinary.

Seeing his dejection, I said, “Wang Yong, just the fact that you haven’t killed in three years is enough for me not to despise you. If you don’t mind, let’s call each other brothers. What do you say?” I looked at him, and saw his body tremble.

Wang Yong slowly raised his head. “Though we’ve only met once, and under such circumstances, you’re different from other Corpse Kings. I’ll follow you,” he said, then extracted his zombie blood essence from his arm and placed it in my palm.

I never expected Wang Yong, whom I’d only met once, to trust me so much as to hand over his blood essence.

Zombie blood essence is akin to a fragment of the soul. If a drop of blood essence is fused into another zombie, the higher-ranked one becomes the “mother,” the other the “child.” The stronger the mother, the more control she has over her subordinates. If I were to destroy his blood essence, Wang Yong would die. But there’s an advantage: the “mother” can always monitor, communicate with, and locate the “child”—like a modern satellite. The only way to break this bond is for the mother to be destroyed, or for her to return the blood essence willingly.

Once everything was done, I sealed Wang Yong’s blood essence deep within me and told him he was free to do as he liked, with one condition—he could not harm anyone.

From Wang Yong’s story, I knew the first thing he’d do was seek out his former boss and investigate the assassin who slaughtered his family. But I would be watching over everything. There’s no way I’d let my hard-won lackey die in someone else’s hands!

...

(What will happen next? Will Wang Yong find the zombie assassin who murdered his family and get his revenge? Stay tuned for the next installment of the Absurd Revenge Arc. Meanwhile, I humbly ask for your support—if you enjoyed this, please vote! Your brother is deeply grateful. Two chapters today; your brother is counting on you...)