My Healing Games

Chapter 220 This little box in my hand is your final home

Lanterns with the character for "meat" written on them hung on the wall, and the simple wooden tables and chairs were painted with dark red paint. Unidentified insects could be vaguely seen crawling through the cracks in the floor tiles.

The rich aroma of meat tantalized his taste buds as he stood at the door, his instincts telling him that this restaurant was not safe.

From the outside, the dumpling shop doesn't look particularly interesting, but once inside, Han Fei discovered that the interior space is quite large.

On the crookedly placed wooden table, you can still vaguely see oil stains and dirt, as if someone had just eaten something there.

Judging from the thick layer of grease, it doesn't look like dumplings.

When Han Fei entered the shop, there were other customers in the room, but they didn't pay any attention to Han Fei at all. They were busy eating their food, wolfing it down as if they wanted to eat their chopsticks as well.

"this way please."

Standing at the entrance, Han Fei, still hesitant about whether to leave, heard a man's voice.

He looked in the direction of the sound and saw the curtain of the kitchen being lifted, and a person wearing a pig-face mask came out.

He carried a huge tray, on which were placed three large bowls, from which an enticing aroma wafted.

"Please have a seat. What would you like to eat?"

The man placed all three large bowls on another customer's table in the shop. That customer then lifted the lids off the bowls and grabbed some food from them, stuffing it into his mouth.

He ate with relish, completely forgetting his severely swollen stomach that seemed about to burst, and the stack of rice bowls piled high on the other side of the table.

"Can I ask you something?" Han Fei still didn't dare to go inside, and the sight of the person wearing the pig-face mask made him feel uneasy.

Firefly and Cry did not issue a warning, but it is possible that they were not unaware of the danger, but were blinded by something.

"You can ask me anything after you finish eating. You must be very hungry now, right?" The man picked up a greasy rag and wiped the table casually. He didn't force Han Fei and let Han Fei sit near the door.

Hearing the man's words, Han Fei felt that what he meant was that it was time to set off after finishing the meal.

This strange man wearing a pig-face mask looks kind, but he gives off the feeling of an executioner on the execution ground.

Butchers, having slaughtered many animals, would carry a smell of blood and grease on their bodies; executioners were the same, except that killing people was different from slaughtering animals, and the smell emanating from them was slightly different as well.

"The menu is on the wall, please take a look and order." The man wearing a pig-face mask stood next to Han Fei. Being stared at by that strange and ugly pig face, Han Fei felt uncomfortable all over. He vaguely felt that the eyes under the mask did not look like human eyes.

"Then let's have a bowl of fresh meat dumplings," Han Fei said, pointing to the dish at the front of the line.

"Just one bowl of dumplings?" The man still didn't leave, his strange eyes looking at the altar in Han Fei's arms: "One bowl of dumplings probably won't be enough to share."

"Let's have a bowl to try first. If it's good, we'll order more." Han Fei's expression remained unchanged, but his heart was actually in his throat. The other party had seen through the resentment hidden in the spirit altar.

"Alright." The man seemed easy to talk to. He wiped the table for Han Fei again with a rag. "Please wait a moment."

He placed a thermos on Han Fei's table: "The tea is in the cabinet at the front desk. Please brew whatever you would like to drink."

After saying that, he shouted at the top of his lungs toward the kitchen, "A bowl of steaming hot fresh meat dumplings!"

After the masked man left, Han Fei quickly opened the altar to communicate with Yinglong, but when he saw Yinglong with his own eyes, he realized that the situation was worse than he had imagined.

Han Fei simply felt hungry and had a desire to eat.

The resentment within the altar bit directly at their own bodies. Their remaining rationality was tormented to the brink of collapse by the hunger, their faces contorted and their eyes filled with madness.

"This dumpling shop is weird!"

Tearing at their own bodies, the resentful spirits desperately needed to eat, as if only eating could calm them down.

Their state reminded Han Fei of Xu Qin when she went berserk. After Xu Qin used all her strength, the curse broke out, and she had to eat all the meat in her house to recover.

"If I stay any longer, my neighbors will probably start killing each other."

Resentment is a combination of despair and pain. It is already extremely difficult for them to remain rational. The current situation is forcing them to lose control.

Hunger is the greatest source of malice; when people are starving to the extreme, they are capable of anything.

As Han Fei got up to leave, the door of the dumpling shop was suddenly pushed open.

The cold wind carried away the aroma of meat from the shop, and a middle-aged man with long hair and a pale face entered the shop.

He was wearing a pure black outfit that seemed to be woven from hair, with strange patterns on it. If you looked closely, you would see that they were human faces.

"It can't be such a coincidence, right?"

The middle-aged man carried a wooden box stained with blood, and he reeked of a pungent stench, a smell that seemed to be a mixture of perfume and the stench of a corpse.

Upon entering the shop, the middle-aged man casually found a table to sit down, and then he opened the wooden crate.

The aroma of meat in the room was instantly overwhelmed by the smell of blood, and another diner who was frantically eating stared at him blankly.

The middle-aged man didn't care about any of that. When the shop assistant wearing the pig-face mask came out of the kitchen, he reached into the box with both hands and took out a human head.

"is it him?"

The shop assistant stared at the human head; the pig-face mask had changed, and it looked as if it were laughing.

"Somewhat close, but not quite."

Upon hearing this answer, the middle-aged man slammed his head into the wooden crate: "Who is the butcher? This is the fourth one already. I even got targeted by that crazy woman in order to get it."

"She's not dead yet?"

“It should be soon.” The middle-aged man’s face was gloomy, and a hint of malice flashed in his eyes. He fished a kitchen knife out of the blood in the wooden box: “I stole one of her knives. Her curse is no longer complete.”

His pale fingers were cut by the blade, and blood seeped out.

After feeling the pain, the middle-aged man not only didn't let go, but gripped the knife even tighter: "What I hate most is curses!"

"Don't be angry, would you like something to eat?" The shop assistant looked at the middle-aged man with a smile.

"I dare not..." The middle-aged man said halfway through, but seeing the dangerous look in the shop assistant's eyes, he stopped talking, closed the wooden box, and walked towards the door.

The staff didn't stop him and went straight back to the kitchen.

"What bad luck."

The middle-aged man fled the dumpling restaurant, and Han Fei followed him out as he opened the door.

In fact, he had seen Han Fei long ago. This young man made him feel very uncomfortable, but he didn't know what caused that discomfort.

Turning into a small alley, the middle-aged man noticed that Han Fei was still following behind him, and he finally stopped.

"This should be our first meeting, right?" The middle-aged man turned around and stared at Han Fei, carrying a wooden box, his voice icy.

“Uncle, I have some questions for you.” Han Fei’s eyes were fixed on the wooden box in the middle-aged man’s hand: “Where did you get that knife you just took out?”

"Pulled from a dead body." The middle-aged man noticed several chilling auras emanating from the alleyway, and he sensed something was wrong.

"We're not exactly good people either, and we're very prone to doing impulsive things, so you'd better take advantage of this time when we can have a normal conversation and answer my questions honestly, and don't do anything that we'll all regret."

Han Fei stared at the middle-aged man's face. He made no act, and his voice was cold and chilling.

"Move aside, I'm going back." The effeminate man with long hair gripped the wooden box tightly. He stared at Han Fei but showed no intention of speaking.

“I don’t care where you live. If you can’t explain it clearly today, this little box in my hand will be your final home.”

The pitch-black python slithered into the ghostly patterns, and Han Fei took out the blood-red paper figure from his inventory.

(End of this chapter)