Curse Returns: What did the human-shaped wishing machine do wrong this time?

The body of the deceased young master Jili was twisted into pieces, and warm blood flowed down the steps of the altar.

The cold wind carried the nauseating stench of blood to every corner of the space.

In the distorted crimson world, only the boy in white robes and scarlet trousers stood at the very center of the altar, his whole being seemingly surrounded by a sacred halo.

The scene before my eyes was truly chilling.

The warriors holding torches stopped what they were doing in shock.

Seeing his beloved son in this state, fear twisted the patriarch's face.

He was trembling with fear and wanted to turn and run away.

The next second, his body also began to be torn and deformed, and his miserable cries were blocked in his throat.

His body was squeezed into several folds by an invisible force, and then it burst open.

He and his beloved son died in the same way.

"Ah...ah!!! Ah!!!!!!!!!"

The maids screamed shrilly.

The bizarre, absurd, and bloody scene had a profound impact on these docile maids.

The young master on the altar was no longer the pitiful little bullied boy they knew; he seemed to have become an unknown demon, devouring the patriarch's soul.

The samurai looked at the scene before them with some confusion.

The head of this family is dead, so why should they still perform sacrifices according to that person's requirements?

"What an interesting scene."

Just as everyone was panicking at the scene before them, a somewhat unfamiliar voice, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, reached the ears of everyone present.

Alluka looked over when she heard the sound.

It was a pink-haired boy of the same age as him, but unlike ordinary people, he had another strange face on the side of his cheek.

He rested his chin on his hand and glanced indifferently at the figure on the altar.

"monster!!!!!"

Upon seeing him, the maids screamed and tried to run away.

But it was too late; the fierce slashes were like a storm, forming a dense net in the air.

The fleeing maids and warriors were chased by these slashes and cut into countless fragments.

This was a one-sided massacre.

A swaying figure appeared before my eyes, emitting painful wails.

The pink-haired boy seemed to have witnessed something amusing, and a wanton laugh escaped his throat.

Lead-gray clouds hung overhead, and snowflakes fell silently, melting one by one into the still-warm blood.

After a long time, when everything came to an end.

The ruined mansion is no longer as luxurious as it once was; collapsed stone lanterns, broken trees, withered vegetation, and ruins are scattered everywhere.

Looking at the newly formed, twisted monsters in the mansion, the pink-haired boy chuckled and unleashed several more slashes from his fingertips, cutting all the monsters into identical fragments.

He slightly raised his chin, gently stroking the side of his neck, and was about to leave.

"Are you the older brother?"

The boy, bound to the altar, had his dark blue eyes wide open, his curious gaze wandering across his face.

Unlike ordinary people, he could see that there was no fear or hatred in that gaze that he was familiar with.

Alluka looked at the pink-haired boy with curiosity and confusion.

He seemed oblivious to the stench around him, staring intently at the boy's second face.

He had heard from his maid that his brother was a two-faced monster.

That description is very similar to the person in front of me.

For some inexplicable reason, a strange sense of shared blood and bond made him absolutely certain.

This person is his monster brother.