Old Domain Bizarre

Chapter 3 Attack
The pen rolled on the ground, making a gurgling sound, and Zhang Wenda's gaze followed the mechanical pen as it slowly moved across the cement floor. When the mechanical pen stopped, Zhang Wenda was taken aback.

He glanced out the sunlit window, and a bizarre thought popped into his head: "Is this godforsaken place haunted in broad daylight?"

However, before he could understand what was happening, he suddenly felt a tightness in his chest, and his heart raced. He instantly had a feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

The next second, a ripping sound and a burning pain came from his left leg. Zhang Wenda staggered and fell to the ground. When he looked down, he saw a bloodstain slowly seeping through his pants.

The sudden attack left Zhang Wenda stunned. He looked around his familiar hometown in a daze, but found no enemies.

Before he could even understand what was happening, a wave of intense pain washed over him, and various scars and bruises spread rapidly from his legs all over his body.

"Why? What is attacking me? What did I do wrong?!" Zhang Wenda quickly shrank to the corner and raised his flashlight in an attempt to block it.

However, at this moment, whatever he did was futile. No matter how he tried to block, the wounds appeared directly under his clothes. There were all kinds of wounds, but the only constant was the bone-scraping pain.

The excruciating pain throughout his body nearly made Zhang Wenda faint, but his strong will to live kept him enduring the pain while trying to figure out what was going on.

"What did I do wrong? Why are they attacking me?! There has to be a reason, right?!"

After quickly reviewing what had happened in his mind, Zhang Wenda stared intently at the whirring television.

"Is it angry because I ate the steamed bun from the TV?!"

Zhang Wenda didn't know how this strange idea came to him, but he was willing to do anything to stop the pain all over his body!
"Meat!? I need to find a piece of meat to hang back here!" Zhang Wenda quickly searched the room, trying to find something to replace the steamed buns.

However, the entire room was completely exposed, and there wasn't a single living creature to be found, let alone meat. Moreover, in the current situation, there was no time for him to go out, buy some meat, and then run back.

The pain made Zhang Wenda clench his teeth so tightly that he almost curled up into a ball. Just when he thought it was all over and he was about to die here, suddenly, an idea popped into his head and he looked at himself in the mirror.

Without almost any time to think, Zhang Wenda, enduring the excruciating pain all over his body, rushed over, grabbed the rope from the antenna that was used to hang buns, and wrapped it directly around his wrist.

As he gently lowered his arm, with a "rip" sound, the scene of the crosstalk performance finally reappeared on the television screen.

"Hey, you stinky out-of-towner, here to beg for food?"

As the sound of crosstalk resumed, although Zhang Wenda was in excruciating pain all over his body, the intense pain finally stopped increasing.

When he saw that the unknown attack had finally stopped, Zhang Wenda, who was covered in sweat from the pain, finally breathed a long sigh of relief. "Thank goodness... thank goodness..."

Regardless of how the injury would affect his body, he honestly wasn't sure if he would die from the pain if he continued to be attacked.

As a former adult, he was barely able to hold on, which shows just how much pain he was in.

"What exactly is going on in this world?"

Zhang Wenda looked around with lingering fear. The house, which had once filled him with nostalgia, now appeared utterly sinister and terrifying to him. He realized he had been wrong, terribly wrong! This strange world was not safe; it was fraught with danger! This horrific place might really kill him!
"I..." Zhang Wenda swallowed hard, wiping the blood from his chin. "After school, I have to find that fatso and get to the bottom of this!"

"Wait!" Thinking of Zhang Wenda, he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, and the chubby boy's expression in his mind turned gloomy.

"If the world has such big problems, is Pan Dongzi still the best friend I knew when I was a child?"

Zhang Wenda didn't know, but if he were really his buddy, he would definitely have told him about something so dangerous.

With a sharp "sizzle," intense pain returned instantly, and Zhang Wenda's left hand swelled up slowly along with a red line.

Immediately afterwards, a tremendous force sent him flying, slamming him heavily against the concrete wall. The pain that had been receding like a tide surged back, instantly engulfing Zhang Wenda's entire body.

When Zhang Wenda saw that the television was still playing, but the physical attack had not disappeared, he immediately understood.

"No! It's not a problem with the TV! It's not a problem with the meat! Then what is it?!"

A suppressed emotion suddenly exploded within him, and a sense of panic almost took over his mind, rendering him instantly unable to move.

This sudden outburst of negative emotions rendered him almost unable to do anything; he could only shrink under the bed, curling up as much as possible in an attempt to escape something.

However, even this was of no use. The unseen thing did not seem to let him go, and wounds were covered on his body again and again.

Every wound on the body is excruciatingly painful, but compared to physical pain, the mental stress is far more terrifying.

Each scar brings even heavier negative emotions. Under the pressure of these emotions, he feels like he's going to die from the pain, and even his attempts to think of a solution are frequently interrupted.

He tried to throw the flashlight in his hand around, but he hit nothing, and the yellow light he emitted didn't illuminate anything either.

Just as he swung again, he was met with excruciating pain in his fingers. Both of his fingers snapped with a crack, and the joints visibly swelled up.

"What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!" Zhang Wenda gritted his teeth and shouted angrily at the empty room.

However, his question received no response. Suddenly, the flashlight was flung away and landed again, leaving a deep scratch on his right forearm.

His injuries worsened, and his consciousness grew increasingly blurred. At this moment, only one thought remained in his mind: why was all this happening? If it wasn't a problem with the television, then what was the problem? What had he done wrong?

With a deep thud to his head, Zhang Wenda, covered in wounds, lost consciousness. In the last instant before his consciousness faded, the little fat boy's voice suddenly rang in his mind.

"It would be terrible if we were late!"

(End of this chapter)