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He gasped, crouching low, and darted toward the narrow gap between the fox demon and the monstrous creature. But instead of fleeing as Foxy had urged, Yu Sheng snatched a broken stone slab from the ground and charged toward the beast’s side.

He knew he couldn’t win. There was no doubt in his mind. But he also knew there was no escape—not with human speed alone. The area around them was a chaotic maze of rubble and ruins, and the only exit out of the temple was blocked by the hulking creature. If he tried to run blindly, it would just lead to a quicker death.

Better to grit his teeth and fight. He might not stand a chance, but if he wasn’t afraid to die, maybe, just maybe, he could make a difference. Perhaps his distraction could free Foxy from the creature’s suffocating grip. She was still battling for her sanity—if he could buy her even a moment, they might turn the tables…

These thoughts flickered in his mind for only an instant. There was no time to second-guess. He threw himself forward, summoning a surge of strength from deep within, strength that surprised even him, and hurled the heavy stone slab like a cannonball at the beast.

He didn’t wait to see if the slab struck its target. A wave of dread flooded his senses, warning him of danger. He leaped to the side just in time, narrowly avoiding the lashing shadow—a serpent’s tail sprouting from the monster’s grotesque body.

The tail slammed into the ground where he’d stood moments before, shattering stone and sending debris flying in every direction. In mid-air, Yu Sheng felt the force of the impact, shards of rock pelting his body like bullets, ringing against his skin as though it were made of metal.

But there was no time for pain. As he landed, he rolled swiftly to dodge the serpent tail’s next strike. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Foxy.

The silver-white fox was thrashing in agony, entangled in a web of black spikes and bone fragments. Ghostly blue flames flickered dangerously around her tails, threatening to spiral out of control at any moment.

But she remained trapped—those binds seemed made for her. Yu Sheng’s interference hadn’t changed a thing.

It was painfully clear to him now: this fox girl, far stronger than he could ever hope to be, was powerless against the creature. There was some kind of sinister connection between them, something designed to overpower her.

Yet, despite that, she had rushed toward him earlier—out there, on the open ground before the temple ruins. She’d come to save him. Even though she hadn’t succeeded, she had truly tried.

The memory shot through his mind, and Yu Sheng clenched his jaw, determination burning hotter than ever. He would try again. Maybe he couldn’t win, but he could at least keep fighting.

He remembered that the changes in him—the sudden strength, the rapid healing—had begun after he’d taken a bite of the monster’s flesh. Could there be a connection? He wasn’t sure. But with no other choices and death no longer something he feared, he would try every wild idea he had.

“Don’t… worry about me!” Foxy’s voice broke through the chaos. “It can’t… kill me. You need to run!”

“It’s alright—it can’t kill me either,” Yu Sheng retorted, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Despite the split on his chin, his smile was bright, almost cheerful. “I’ll probably die soon, but don’t worry. I’ll come back for you.”

Foxy’s frantic struggles stilled for a moment, confusion flickering across her face.

But Yu Sheng didn’t offer any further explanation. He just stepped forward, a lightness to his stride, and that smile on his face grew wider.

It was a smile that held no fear, only joy—like someone about to feast.

“You like to eat, don’t you?” he muttered to the monster. “Alright then… I’ll come and eat.”

And with that, he leaped toward the creature, lunging like a ravenous wolf.

The dozens of eyes scattered across the beast’s body trembled. For the first time, Yu Sheng saw something new in them—a flicker of hesitation. And fear.

In a panic, the monster’s countless mouths roared incoherently. Dozens of serpentine tails, covered in pitch-black scales, shot out from its body, all aimed at Yu Sheng.

He felt them pierce him—again and again. Fatal blows. But he couldn’t tell how many. Warm blood poured from his wounds, his life slipping away with it.

But then came the hunger. The overwhelming, indescribable hunger that swallowed every other sensation. He ignored the pain, the fear, the growing darkness. Grabbing hold of one of the serpent tails impaling him, he grinned—and bit down.

A high-pitched, agonized howl tore from the monster, the tail thrashing violently to shake Yu Sheng off.

But he refused to let go. No matter how hard the tail whipped and flailed, he clung on, even as he was slammed into the ground with enough force to shatter stone. His body, unyielding and strange, took the hit without breaking. The pain, if anything, sharpened his focus.

The tail whipped again, sending him crashing through a crumbling wall. His vision blurred as he flew through the air, but then something caught his eye—a flash of golden light.

Yu Sheng’s hand shot out instinctively. His fingers closed around… a handle.

“What the—?”

A soft creak reached his ears, barely audible over the wind. A door appeared in his mind—simple, plain, but leading somewhere to a place. He didn’t know where.

Without thinking, he pulled the door open.

In the next moment, Yu Sheng and the serpent tail were sucked through the door. The door slammed shut behind them with a sharp crack, severing the tail.

The monster let out a deranged howl, its fury shaking the very air. It rampaged through the temple ruins, biting and smashing everything in sight, including its own flesh, until, at last, it collapsed. Its form melted into darkness, dissolving into the night.

The black spikes and bone fragments disappeared as if they had never existed. Foxy, battered and broken, collapsed onto the ground, unmoving.

Minutes passed in silence before she stirred. Slowly, she opened her eyes, her golden-red pupils dull and vacant.

After a long moment, her gaze drifted to where she and Yu Sheng had sat before everything went wrong.

She dragged herself over, her large fox body trembling with exhaustion. Beneath the steps, she found the plastic bags and scraps of food they’d left behind. She lowered her head and began to eat, swallowing the remnants hungrily.

But it wasn’t enough. The hunger still gnawed at her insides, a dark, insistent voice whispering in her mind.

“Eat… you know where more food is… in the woods… buried there… bones… flesh… blood… go, eat, and you’ll be full…”

Foxy whimpered softly, curling up beneath the steps. She stretched out her neck and began gnawing at the broken bricks and dirt, slowly, painfully, trying to satisfy the endless hunger.

“I’m not hungry… I’m not… someone gave me food… he’ll be back soon… I’m not hungry…”

She gnawed at the rubble until, as always, sleep finally took her.

Meanwhile, Yu Sheng awoke, jolted out of unconsciousness by the sensation of falling. The door handle was still in his grasp, and he realized he had crossed a boundary.

Opening his eyes, he found himself lying on a familiar street. The streetlights, the telephone poles, the old houses lining Wutong Road—he recognized it all.

Ahead of him stood the old gate of No. 444 Wutong Road, silent in the morning light.

He struggled to sit up, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see a shadowy door fading from view. Through the fading image, he could still glimpse the valley, the temple ruins, and… the white fox dragging herself through the ruins.

Yu Sheng reached out, but before his fingers could touch her, the last remnants of the door vanished into nothing.