Transtor: der Transtions

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  Cough, cough. Blood foam tio spurt from Su Xiaoxiao's mouth. Her ribs had colpsed and pierced her lungs, making each breath areme struggle.

  Ran seemed to be anticipating something, as if not wanting to miss a moment of excitement. He leaned closer to Su Xiaoxiao's ear, lig his lips. "Miss Su," he whispered, "Guess what I'll do to you ?"

  He swallowed with excitement, his mouth stretg into an exaggerated grin. The excitement and madness in his eyes were almost impossible to suppress, but he still deliberately lowered his voice. "I'll start by chopping off one of your arms and throw it onto the stoe."

  "If I get what I want, that’s great, but if not..." He paused, "We still have the ce to experiment with another arm and two legs."

  "Of course, I believe your luck won’t be that bad. It seems we’ll have to use your body," he grinned, showing his gleaming white teeth. "What do you think, Miss Su?"

  Ran didn’t enjoy killing people in nightmares; it would taint the so-called cause and effect. What he liked was tormenting people. The pitiful, desperate, life-or-death struggle of his victims was the most exg thing for him.

  Because it was only at that moment that people would truly uand the value of life.

  He would even be merciful enough to toss a half-dead teammate into the door first, letting them return to the real world.

  Torture wasn’t the goal; it was merely a means. What he truly sought was education!

  Yes, education!

  Some people were just tile. Evehey first ehe nightmare world, they would cry and scream to go back after entering something strange, unwilling to take even the slightest risk, even if it was for a clue.

  Too many foolish, shameful, and despicable people were waiting to enjoy the fruits of others' bor.

  They had pletely bee sves to fear.

  If a team faced major casualties or entered terrifying supernatural events, some of them would eveerrified to the point of suicide.

  Every time he met someone like this, Ran would trol them and slowly torture them.

  He would first try to cut their blood vessels, making them watch as their blood slowly poured out from their wrists, little by little, growing more and more, staining the pnts and soil o them.

  But what Ran didn’t uand was that every time this happehese people who were desperately seekih would beg him to spare them, saying they didn’t want to die, that they wao live.

  What a bunch of hypocrites.

  They had no respect for life.

  Of course, he would eventually fulfill their wishes, but before he tossed their half-dead bodies into the iron door, they would iably suffer.

  What Ran preferred was to chop off their limbs.

  That way, they were much lighter to carry, and it was easier to transport them. The only downside was that stopping the bleeding was a hassle, so he could only use this method for a short time before the door opened.

  After returning to reality, the missing limbs would be restored to them, which was a feature of the nightmare world that Ran was quite satisfied with.

  He didn’t mind being called a madman. After all, the word didn’t have any clear positive ative otatioraced back to its in. It was simply a matter of perspective, meaning that he wasn’t uood by the world.

  Just like Beethoven, Van Gogh, zsche—

  They were all once called madmeed by the secur world.

  But what time does is great—it makes the real, brilliant, and luminous moments st forever, while burying the shalloretentious.

  Beethoveormy melodies to ter the argument, since Bach, that music should be aernal art form for publijoyment, and should not be tied to persoions.

  Van Gogh only created his exaggerated and distorted starry skies and irises, along with those uling deep blues, after he left his ear and stayed at Saint-Remy.

  And zsche...

  Ah, zsche!!

  Ran's eyes showed a hint of obsession.

  The rebellious, stubborn character, the pessimistic philosophy—these were the indelible bels of zsche.

  In Ran’s eyes, no matter the ambiguous retionship with Salome, the estra with Wagner, or even being framed as the evil spiritual father by his sister, ultimately dying in an asylum—none of it could overshadow the moment whezsche poio the Christian cross and said to the world, "God is dead." That moment of brilliance.

  Lonely people don’t want solitude; it’s just that they ’t find anyone like them.

  Ran smiled, tears filling his eyes.

  zsche’s tragedy did not repeat in him; what zsche couldn’t find, he... had found.

  Deep crimson was his destiny.

  "Miss Su," Ran squinted, looking up at the sky, "It’s getting te. If you have nothing else to say, we’ll..."

  Su Xiaoxiao, curled on the ground, moved. Ran stared at her with i. She had clearly reacted to his words. Did she want to say something?

  "My brother..." Su Xiaoxiao coughed up another mouthful of blood, some even spttering onto Raher of them mirembling, she said with difficulty, "Is he..."

  "Don’t worry, Miss Su," Ran interrupted her, then squinted and leaned in close to her ear, whispering, "Your brother is most likely already dead. Even if he isn’t, once I return, he will be."

  Cough, cough.

  Upon hearing this, Su Xiaoxiao coughed up a rge mouthful of blood. Her breathing sounded ragged, like a leaking old bellows.

  Ran was quite pleased with her rea.

  He had already decided to spare her life. After all, there were so few iing people like her. He looked forward to their meeting. Perhaps, without the burden of her brother, this woman would be even more eaining.

  "Miss Su, please stretch out yht arm," Ran picked up a spear-like on from the edge of the grave. He tested the bde with his fihen tilted his head and said, "The ons here aren’t very handy. Please cooperate; it will be better for both of us."

  Just as he was trying to find the best ao strike, he suddenly heard a slightly sharp sound. He put away the spear and lowered his gaze, looking at Su Xiaoxiao, who y like a dead dog.

  "Heh heh."

  Although the sound was low, mixed with heavy breathing, it was still clear.

  She was ughing.

  This woman, who was about to have her limbs chopped off and could easily die if he wasn’t careful, was actually ughing.

  "Even if... even if you cough, cough, kill me, you still... ’t defeat him," Su Xiaoxiao said hoarsely.

  "Who?" Ran raised an eyebrow. "That Hao Shuai?"

  "You don’t really think I believed what you said, do you?" Su Xiaoxiao ughed even more recklessly, her whole body twitg in pain from the ughter. "Guess why Hao Shuai and the others haven’t appeared?"

  After a moment, Ran put away his on, his expression turning grim. "It seems Miss Su’s partners aren’t just me."

  (End of the Chapter)

  ---Read (NS) ahead on (pa treon . / derTL) – Chapter 300. (+6)Early access starts at 1. Your support keeps this going!1 for this novel, or two novels for just 5, RDC/FF/MF Tiers. ;)Transted 4 Series, 1.65K+ Chapters and 2.01M+ Words.