Chapter 46: Good and Evil Will Eventually Be Rewarded
Yamada was enveloped in a chilling atmosphere, being stared at by the deceased.
Yoshino Sachiko has already passed away.
She died in the distant summer, on a night resonating with the cicada's song.
Yamada didn't go to pay his respects, but he remembered that she had committed suicide.
He lacked the courage to confront it in the first place. As a gust of chilly wind swept by, he took a step back and stumbled at the entrance, falling right onto the threshold.
"You, you…"
"Are you here… to seek vengeance upon me?"
Yamada appeared disheveled, with a parched voice.
Yoshino Sachiko took a step forward, and inside the room, the lights started to flicker intermittently.
"It's been eight years, and all this time, I've yearned to tear you into pieces…"
"However, you are not the person I most desired to kill, so I saved you for last."
She delicately licked her own fingertips, while the nails were adorned with a vivid shade of red.
"Last?" Yamada asked with difficulty, "In the end, how many people have you killed?"
"I don't remember very well," Yoshino Sachiko tilted her head, "Perhaps eight? Maybe a dozen? It wasn't easy to locate those hidden individuals… It took a considerable amount of time, but eventually, I found each and every one of them. I dug out their eyes, I dug out their hearts, and I hanged them using their own intestines from the rafters."
Yamada opened his mouth and lowered his head in deep remorse, saying, "I'm sorry, really, I'm so sorry…"
"Oh? Apologies?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" Yamada knelt down on the ground, bowing his head deeply in apology, "I'm sorry, I never imagined it would lead to such consequences."
"Hahaha."
Yoshino Sachiko revealed a bewitching smile, so ironic and mocking, she had heard such words too many times before.
Before the threat of death, every person would kneel down, begging for mercy and repenting their sins with tears.
But does this have any meaning?
To the deceased, it is utterly meaningless.
Even though Yamada has been self-reproaching for eight years, willingly bearing the burden of his sins like a cross… for those who refuse to turn a blind eye to the loss, the only acceptable outcome is that blood debt must be repaid with blood!
Just like that tombstone.
Forgiveness, it is never as effortless as claimed!
"I will forgive you."
Yoshino Sachiko leaned down, lightly touching Yamada's face with her fingers, her smile alluring and vibrant. She smiled and spoke.
Yamada trembled as he raised his head, "Is it true?"
The smile instantly transformed, with the corners of the mouth splitting apart, extending all the way to the ears, revealing sharp fangs as the mouth opened wide.
"After you are dead!"
Gently gliding his finger, as if a sword slicing through flesh, a ferocious wound tore from the forehead to the side of the face, with the skin and flesh curling outwards.
Yamada, clutching his blood-soaked face, collapsed onto the ground, emitting continuous screams of agony.
"My face, my face…"
"What's the big deal? It's just a small cut. The pain I felt back then, it surpassed this by a thousandfold, a hundredfold!"
Yoshino Sachiko extended her tongue to lick the fresh blood off her fingertips.
"When I killed them, I tortured them for a full seven hours. You are fortunate… to have the option of a more merciful death."
Yamada, clutching his face due to intense agony, let out a grimace of despair.
To end up with such outcomes, is indeed a self-inflicted consequence.
He emerged from a small mountain village, carrying within him aspirations, hoping to step by step ascend to a superior status.
After graduating from university, he once went to a Buddhist temple to seek a master who could bestow a new name upon him. Upon examining his written request, the eminent monk bestowed upon him the character 'Ren,' which signifies benevolence.
He simply assumed that the other person was looking down on him. Although he accepted the calligraphy and painting, he cast it aside like worn-out shoes, leaving it neglected in a corner without hanging it up.
Perhaps, from that moment onward, his life was destined to embrace such an outcome.
Neither did he steadfastly adhere to the path of benevolence from the very beginning, nor was he able to completely abandon his conscience and become a villain.
"Evil begets evil…" Yamada chuckled grimly, murmuring under his breath.
Lying on the ground, devoid of strength to resist, he looked up at Yoshino Sachiko raising her hand, darkness looming over him.
"Retribution, retribution,"
The middle-aged person closed their eyes in silent resignation, awaiting death.
Waiting.
It was not lengthy.
Seconds ticked away, but the anticipated pain remained elusive.
Yamada weakly opened his eyes, only to see blood-dripping claws.
The nails were sharp, as if growing from within the flesh, coming close to touching his face but stopping just a few centimeters away.
He could see the contorted expression and hatred in Yoshino Sachiko's face, truly unable to fathom why she would cease her actions.
Subconscious gaze shift.
He saw Yoshino Sachiko with an extra hand behind her head, that hand gripping tightly onto her hair with all five fingers.
The more she tried to move forward, the tighter her hair was pulled.
"Let go!" Yoshino Sachiko exclaimed in agony as she turned her head, her claws fiercely striking towards the sudden and conspicuous hand behind her.
However, her scalp quickly started to tingle.
A tremendous force suddenly struck, grabbing hold of her hair and dragging the weight of a hundred kilograms of a human body, forcefully pulling her out of the apartment room and tossing her down from the third-floor hallway.
The howls of a wild beast resounded together with the thud of landing.
Yamada's eyes were drenched with sweat and blood, and he rubbed them vigorously, trying to see the incoming person clearly.
Until the person approached, extending a hand in front of his eyes, he struggled in order to see clearly.
"Mr. Bai…"
"Ah." Bai Wei said, "It is me."
"How did you come here?" Yamada weakly asked.
"If i didn't come, you wouldn't make it through tonight," Bai Wei said. "Can you stand up?"
"Ah, thank you." Yamada grasped the other person's hand and was helped to stand up.
The hallway was trembling, and it seemed like something terrifying was rampaging inside the corridors of the old apartment buildings, with the sound growing closer and closer.
"No need to worry, now that I am here, that thing won't harm you," Bai Wei said in a calm and confident tone.
"How can I trouble you so much?" Yamada exclaimed anxiously, clutching the wound that was still bleeding. "This is my own karma, the revenge that I should have borne."
"Perhaps," Bai Wei admitted without denying.
"Then I should be allowed to…"
"Good deeds bring good rewards, and evil deeds bring evil consequences," Bai Wei emphasized with sincere conviction.
"How you repay for the wicked acts you have committed is up to you; as for me, standing here signifies my affirmation of the goodness you have shown," Bai Wei declared.
"If one were to regard this as a karmic retribution, then it is the recompense for your accumulated good deeds and sincere repentance over the past eight years,"
"If no one else will applaud your virtuous acts, let it be me who will acknowledge them!"
"The wicked will inevitably face karmic consequences."
"Good people deserve good rewards as well."
Bai Wei stepped out of the room and made his way towards the source of the commotion.
Yamada stared blankly at the figure of Bai Wei.
Suddenly, his eyes became even more blurred, and a sour sensation tingled on the bridge of his nose.
He felt somewhat weakened, attempting to grab hold of the table next to him for support, but stumbled and ended up sitting on the ground.
He covered his face with both hands, and tears streamed down through the gaps between his fingers.
Not out of fear, nor out of dread.
Even in the face of death, he never considered shedding tears.
Now, no matter what, he can't contain his emotions anymore, he only wants to have a cathartic cry.
"A good person deserves good rewards."
"Am I, someone like me… considered a good person?"
"Thank you, thank you…"
The middle-aged man covered their face, stooped over, and pressed his face against his knees, suppressing his cries.
Tears and blood mingled, dripping down the palm of the hand.
Turbid, yet clear.
