Chapter 27: Setting Twenty-Seven

Setting Twenty-Seven: Monster Hunter (Part 9)

Shan Ziwei froze, his eyes widening as he followed the tentacle wrapped around his right arm down.

The white tentacle coiled around his arm several times without a gap. He traced it to its end, only to find it buried under rubble. He’d assumed the tentacle had been severed in the explosion—but apparently, it was still attached to the monster, and the monster itself was right beside him under the debris.

As if confirming his suspicion, the tentacle loosened, pushing aside the rubble around him to reveal a small patch of white, soft substance. Shan Ziwei recognized it immediately as the monster’s bell. Now pinned under countless stones, it looked pathetic, exposed just a tiny bit of its bell. It seemed to want to struggle free—but as it exerted force, the already unstable gap began to shift dangerously.

Panicking at the trembling rocks that looked ready to collapse at any moment, Shan Ziwei instinctively shouted, “Don’t move!”

His voice trembled. Whether because of his warning or because it realized struggling would only bury it deeper, the monster did indeed stop. Then Shan Ziwei watched as the exposed patch of bell developed wrinkles—widening and widening until they formed a slit. It suddenly opened, revealing a round, eyeball-like sphere.

The red pupil inside swiveled around, finally fixing upward on Shan Ziwei. His first instinct was to poke it!

—Is this thing going to shoot lasers from its eye, or has the monster finally exposed its weakness? In any case, it looks like it needs poking!

There was only one way to describe this particular sufferer’s behavior: handsy.

The red, glossy eye stared at the finger inches away. The monster tightened its tentacle, binding Shan Ziwei’s right arm inexorably.

He felt like he’d been hit with a blunt instrument. His breath caught—and when he resumed breathing, it was much heavier. He no longer cared about the monster; he tried to pull his right arm out of its grip with all his might. But the monster’s tentacles were built for grasping prey. Covered in invisible suction cups, once they latched on, the only way to remove them—unless the monster voluntarily let go—was to shed the skin in contact with the tentacle.

After several failed attempts to pull free, his breathing grew ragged—not just from exertion and anxiety, but for that reason. This particular sufferer felt like crying. He couldn’t blame his body for reacting—hand-holding was always one of his killer moves. And the monster’s tentacles were truly soft and supple, smooth as fine cream. Worse, the pressure was perfect—tight enough to hold without hurting, tight enough to send his condition index skyrocketing.

The monster didn’t miss Shan Ziwei’s reaction. Its tentacles were sensitive sensory organs—now fully in contact with his right arm, they could naturally feel the accelerating pulse and rising body heat. Intrigued, it curled its tentacle, letting the soft tip rest on his wrist, exploring delicately as if counting his heartbeats.

That caress was like touching his heart directly through his veins. Shan Ziwei shuddered. His heart pounded like a drum, and his long-steady Heart SP (Joy) began to tick downward.

You menace! Shan Ziwei cursed the monster inwardly, then cursed his shameless body: You beast!

He was fully experiencing the consequences of being too handsy. If time could rewind, he’d chop off the hand that had done all that poking ten minutes ago.

Now he was trapped—his lower body and left hand pinned by rocks, his right hand held hostage by the monster. The only thing he could do was wait for rescue. But straining his ears, he couldn’t hear Sha Polang approaching—either she was too far away or hadn’t found him yet.

Hold on! Victory is persistence!

He stared at the two entangled “hands.” Though the situation was getting awkward, it was also the best standoff they could hope for. Both he and the monster had only one free appendage each—and the monster’s tentacle was clearly superior, so he should count himself lucky it had wrapped around his arm, not his neck.

Just hold out until Sha Polang finds him, and he’d be saved. The only concern was his slowly dropping Heart SP. It wasn’t dropping fast, but if left unchecked, he’d never last until help arrived.

Fortunately, he had a way to restore Heart SP.

He glanced at Little Gaia on his shoulder, pursed his lips behind the face mask, and abandoned what little dignity he had left: “…I like you.”

Little Gaia smiled. Though it was only the plaster mask’s lips curving upward, on the doll’s face, it looked as though the usually expressionless toy was genuinely smiling.

Shan Ziwei watched his Heart SP recover by 10%—but before he could exhale in relief, the situation took a sharp turn.

“!”

He was still processing the monster suddenly releasing his right arm when he felt the boneless tentacle slither up to his jaw, snap the strap of his protective mask, and tear it off his face.

His first thought was bloodlines. He clamped his mouth shut and grabbed for the mask with his newly freed right hand. But the monster’s next move caught him off guard—the supple tentacle batted the mask away, then twisted and hooked around his neck from behind, pulling him down.

“!!!”

At the critical moment, he braced his hand against the rock wall, narrowly avoiding smashing his face into the monster. His posture was agonizing—right hand braced above, neck hooked downward by the tentacle, his body bent at nearly 80 degrees, face-to-face with the exposed bell of the monster.

Shan Ziwei could barely breathe, staring at the monster inches away. The huge eye on its bell sparkled as it gazed at him—he could practically see the overflowing desire. Under his watch, the round eye closed—just like a shy girl about to kiss her lover, both nervous and expectant.

Feeling the pressure on the back of his neck, he understood—maybe, probably, possibly: holy crap, it wants a kiss!

Maria had done the same thing, coaxing the little monster with loving words and kisses. This must have conditioned it—hearing Shan Ziwei say “like,” it now demanded a kiss from him.

Are you kidding?! Shan Ziwei strained back. The memory of Maria kissing the flesh-ball was still vivid—even if the monster had completely changed form and no longer had juice that stuck to skin, he adamantly refused this anti-human act.

—No kiss! We’re not kissing!

Not getting its kiss, the monster opened its eye again, looking displeased at the white-haired youth holding out against it. Shan Ziwei glared back with even more accusation. But he didn’t realize: the more he refused, the more stubbornly the monster wanted it—like a child obsessed with candy, becoming more unreasonable by the moment.

Their standoff had shifted from hand to neck. While his condition eased a little, the position was unbearable. He strained his head back, unaware that this exposed his vulnerable throat completely to the monster.

The monster had been focused on his mouth, but was gradually drawn to his Adam’s apple, bobbing as he swallowed. Intrigued, it prodded it with its tentacle tip.

Holy crap!

Shan Ziwei nearly lost his brace and fell into the monster’s grasp. Though he managed to support himself again, his whole body trembled faintly. His Heart SP, which had stabilized, began to waver. No longer tilting back, he glared down at the unruly tentacle and, regardless of whether it would understand, gritted out: “Let go…”

His breath, warm and moist, washed over the soft white bell. The monster stared up at the white-haired youth, its tentacle tip curling and exploring more boldly.

“Ah… mmph!”

A sound escaped him before he could stop it. Though he choked off the peak of it, the desire in his voice was unmistakable—laid bare without reservation.

His collarbone was a forbidden zone. The tentacle had been tracing circles around his Adam’s apple, occasionally brushing against it. Abandoning all restraint, he grabbed at the tentacle. Without his brace, his face fell directly onto the bell—though he turned his head to avoid a direct kiss, the corner of his mouth still pressed against its soft surface.

Having gotten what it wanted, the monster froze, its tentacles loosening. Shan Ziwei seized the chance to pull the offending appendage away, propped himself against the rock wall, and tried to steady his breathing while warily watching the monster.

Even after receiving its “kiss,” the monster still stared at him fixedly. The hunger in its eye hadn’t diminished—it had grown, burning red as if about to ignite.

He felt every hair on his body stand on end.

“!”

He caught the tentacle before it reached him—this time, he was the one gripping it tightly, preventing it from acting up. But to his shock, the soft tentacle split in two, becoming two smaller tentacles half its original thickness—slipping out of his grasp and wrapping around his body.

“…”

Coach, it’s cheating! (..)