Sludge suction system

Night, like a vast black silk ribbon, pressed heavily over the capital city of Shiratori, shrouding the entire city in a dense, oppressive blanket, as if suffocating even the slightest life force. Dark clouds, as black as ink, piled up in layers, completely obscuring the moon that should have been casting its gentle glow, allowing only a few faint streaks of light to pierce through, like a feeble struggle in the darkness.

In the deathly silence, only a few faint barks from afar could be heard, like mournful howls from the depths of hell, intensifying the eerie atmosphere. A cold wind howled through the narrow, dimly lit alley, making the withered grass in the corners tremble and rustle, like the whispers of vengeful spirits hidden in the darkness.

At this moment, he was dressed in a black robe, as if woven from the night itself, tightly wrapped around his hunched body. He hurried through the alley, his steps frantic and rapid, each step seeming to pound on the heart, producing a faint yet chilling sound. Moonlight filtered through layers of dark clouds, casting a few pale rays onto his paper-white and distorted face. Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and cheeks, splashing onto the ground and dampening the dust.

His hands trembled uncontrollably, as if controlled by evil spirits, clutching the exquisite porcelain bottle hidden in his bosom. At that moment, his heart was churning like a raging storm, a fierce battle between conscience and evil. On one hand, images of healing and saving lives flashed through his mind—the smiling faces and grateful tears of those recovered patients—piercing his conscience like sharp needles. On the other hand, jealousy and hatred surged like a tidal wave, engulfing him. "Why did I fall to this state the moment Bai Pingping came? I can't let her have it easy, even if it means going to hell, I'll drag her down with me!" This thought echoed wildly in his mind, gradually gaining the upper hand.

The porcelain bottle gleamed with a chilling light under the moonlight, like a soul-reaping artifact retrieved from the River Styx, exuding an aura of death. Inside was a deadly poison he had purchased at great expense from a mysterious and elusive sorcerer, a figure of renown who seemed like a ghost. This poison, concocted using evil methods from a rare and deadly substance, was not only colorless and odorless but also extremely potent, like a demon's curse. Once it entered the body, it would feel like thousands of venomous ants gnawing at the bone marrow, causing the victim excruciating pain. First, a burning fever would engulf the body, the entire body burning like embers, followed by vomiting and diarrhea until unconsciousness. Life would be mercilessly devoured in a short time, like a candle flickering in the wind, quickly extinguished.

When he finally reached the hidden entrance to the capital's water source, the surrounding weeds rustled in the night wind, like the whispers of vengeful spirits hidden in the darkness. The jagged rocks, baring their fangs, seemed poised to drag him into an endless abyss of darkness. Doctor Qian stopped, his heart pounding like thunder in his ears, making them ring. His eyes widened, bulging, as he warily scanned his surroundings, his gaze like that of a trapped beast hunted by a hunter, filled with terror and despair. His ears perked up, desperately seeking any subtle sound that might reveal his evil deeds; even the scurrying of a mouse could stop his heartbeat instantly.

Having confirmed that he was the only "ghost" in this sinful place for the time being, he trembled as he reached out and pulled the porcelain bottle from his robes. His hands shook even more violently, as if the bottle weighed a ton, or as if being pulled by countless hands from hell. A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes—the last gasp of conscience struggling within his soul, utterly corrupted by jealousy and hatred. The faces of the patients he had once treated flashed before his eyes, their smiles now like sharp blades piercing his heart.

But this brief hesitation was instantly consumed by the raging fire of jealousy. A ferocious determination appeared on his face, his teeth grinding together as if he wanted to chew up and swallow all the resentment in the world. "So be it, there's no turning back now. Today is the day I, Qian, will reclaim my glory!" he thought viciously to himself.

He slowly crouched down, his movements stiff and sluggish, like a puppet controlled by evil magic. Then, with trembling hands, he gently lifted the lid of the water source. The clanging sound of the lid hitting the well opening echoed like a demon's roar in the deathly silence of the night, making him shudder violently and almost drop the porcelain bottle in his hand. He looked around in terror again, his eyes filled with panic and fear. Only after confirming that he hadn't been discovered did he carefully pour the poison into the water source.

The poison fell into the water without a sound, instantly dissolving into the water. Only a few barely perceptible ripples appeared on the surface before the water quickly returned to calm, like a bottomless black hole silently swallowing this deadly evil. Dr. Qian watched all this, a twisted and complex expression on his face. There was the mad pleasure of triumphant revenge, a pleasure that made his facial muscles twitch slightly, as if possessed by a demon; yet, a deep fear and unease welled up from the depths of his heart, like a cold, venomous snake coiling around his soul, making his body tremble involuntarily.

He knew all too well that he had just unleashed a catastrophe capable of destroying the entire capital, and countless innocent lives would be annihilated in this man-made nightmare. But now, consumed by madness, he was consumed by the thought of using this horrific disaster to frame Bai Pingping for incompetence in medicine, thereby reclaiming everything he had lost, even at the cost of the lives of the entire city, even if it meant selling his soul to the devil.

Afterwards, Doctor Qian hurriedly hid the porcelain bottle, hastily straightened his disheveled clothes, and, feigning nonchalance, quickly fled the scene. His legs were weak and his steps unsteady; each step felt like walking on cotton, as if he might sink into an endless, dark swamp at any moment. His heart pounded like a rapid drumbeat, a frantic countdown to death. Back home, he immediately locked himself in a dark room, the darkness of which seemed to conceal his wicked deeds. In the dim, flickering candlelight, he frantically rummaged through the medicine cabinet, his eyes revealing madness and urgency. The cabinet was left in disarray, herbs scattered everywhere, but he paid no heed. After a frantic struggle, he finally concocted a potion that appeared to alleviate the symptoms of poisoning; however, this was merely a carefully crafted facade, a pretense of benevolence to carry out his wicked scheme and swindle money.

He fantasized that when the people of the city fell ill with poison and were plunged into an abyss of despair and pain, he would appear triumphantly as a savior, selling his "antidote" at a high price, while spreading rumors to blame Bai Pingping for all the crimes, making her a universally condemned sinner and ruining her reputation.

Little did they know, a pair of bright eyes were hidden in the darkness, witnessing the entire incident.