The Monsters All Covet Him - Chapter 13

Lin Yang was woken up by the sound of infants crying. It was midnight, a scene straight out of a horror film, with each wail more eerie than the last.

Lin Yang got out of bed and stepped out from Lin Lin’s belly. His pupils dilated slightly; lying on the silt ground at Lin Lin’s feet were approximately dozens of newborn infants. They appeared wrinkled and shriveled.

Lin Yang loved life and possessed a natural affinity for newborn young; a smile unconsciously surfaced in his dark eyes. As his gaze shifted upward, he locked eyes with a pair of silver-white pupils, and his expression instantly turned cold.

Lin frowned. If it had its tail at this moment, it would surely be lashing it with a thunderous force. However, recalling Fu Bai’s words, its bloodless lips curved into an arc. Lin rarely smiled; when it did, its indifferent expression dissolved like melting snow.

Lin Yang manifested a blade in his palm. “Provoking me? What, is killing people in the temple not enough? Now you must use newborn infants to satisfy your bloodlust?”

Lin ceased its smile; the words Fu Bai had spoken were utterly useless. Its face was cold as it pointed toward the infants. “These… are compensation for you.”

Lin Yang did not react for a moment. He carefully counted the number of infants and found it matched exactly the number of people who had died in the temple.

His expression turned to one of loathing. “Do you think finding newborns from somewhere else can negate those people’s lives? Is the life of another merely an item of equal value in the eyes of a creature like you?”

Lin Yang let out a scoff, pressing one hand against his throbbing temple in self-mockery. “What madness am I spouting, to actually dream that an evil creature would value human life? What difference is there between a human and an ant in your eyes?”

He lowered his hand, the loathing on his face deepening. “I cannot kill you, nor do I wish to see you. Until I find a way to solve the problem of your existence, please do not appear before me again. Otherwise, I will certainly stab you until you are a mess.”

“So fragile.”

Lin murmured softly. Lin Yang did not hear it clearly, nor did he care what the creature said. He raised his long blade. “Get out.”

Lin watched the blade edge pointed at it. That hand holding the sword was indeed, as those filthy desires had said, very beautiful. Thin skin adhered to the white bone, filling the tissue. When angry or frightened, the dark blue veins would bulge, and the pale pink fingertips would tremble.

Lin’s power was immense; if it were not careful, it could crush this hand to powder. This hand was as fragile as Lin Yang’s love for it. The intense love Lin Yang described could be utterly erased because it did something wrong, and those dark eyes would once again be filled with hatred and killing intent.

Lin had seen many such gazes; it had long passed the stage where a look of hatred would make it feel sad. But at this moment, it did not want to see such eyes from Lin Yang. Therefore, Lin Yang’s love was a fragile and rare existence—like a world-class treasure, it should be held up and cherished.

Lin thought that it had not lied to Fu Bai; it really hadn’t fallen in love with Lin Yang. It was merely like a dragon: seeing a gem, it couldn’t help but want to bring it back to its nest and claim it as its own.

Lin Yang moved his blade tip forward. “I’ll say it one more time. Get out.”

“It’s not that.”

Lin Yang heard it clearly this time. His dark eyes were wary. “What isn’t?”

Lin explained, “These infants are the humans and Silver Merfolk who died in the temple because I wanted to drive you away.” Its white lashes lowered. “I apologize. Even if I am crowned with the word ‘God,’ the most I can do is grant them a chance at rebirth. I cannot return them to you exactly as they were.”

Lin Yang possessed the gift of a photographic memory; the features of these infants did indeed hold the shadows of those deceased beings. He was in disbelief. An evil creature kills, yet it also saves?

The crying of the infants rang in Lin Yang’s ears. He knelt down, his fingertip carefully poking the cheek of one of the babies. The infant looked at Lin Yang with large, bright black eyes; its fleshy little hand, driven by the instinct to feed, grabbed Lin Yang’s fingertip and began to suckle.

The newborn had no teeth, and its gums bit Lin Yang until he felt an itch. He didn’t dare pull his finger out, fearing he would hurt the fragile child. He looked up and realized Lin was watching his suckled finger, its ice-like face clouded with a somber mood. But sensing his gaze, Lin immediately met it, its ice-white pupils holding a softened meaning.

Lin Yang: ?

Is it that I’m blind, or is this creature just too temperamental?

“Didn’t you warn me never to get near you again? Why do this?”

The duplicate appearing before him today was much weaker than the previous one. The infant couldn’t get any milk, so it released Lin Yang and continued to cry. Lin Yang stood up and looked into Lin’s eyes. “Even for a god, reversing life and death must come with a price, right?”

“It doesn’t hurt much,” Lin replied.

Lin Yang stared fixedly at Lin’s face, his voice cold and hard. “I will not be grateful to you. Those humans and Silver Merfolk died because of you; returning their lives is only natural in our human world. But you are a monster, so…”

Lin Yang’s voice softened. “Thank you. Thank you for bringing them back. Their lives are very important to me.”

Since the day he learned to speak, the sentences Lin Yang heard most often were about protecting humanity and the world—these were things more important than his own life. But the humans were gone, the world was in chaos, and yet he was still lingering on, alive. Lin Yang could not forgive himself, and he certainly could not forgive the source of all the disaster.

Lin, bathed in Lin Yang’s gaze, suddenly asked, “Can your eyes regenerate just like your heart?”

Lin Yang instinctively nodded. Immediately after, he heard Lin say:

“I want your eyes.”