Taoist priest goes to America

Rabbit Face collapsed to the ground, the rotten flesh on his left foot numb with pain.

His face was streaked with tears, and snot and blood mixed together, dripping down his chin. He reeked of sweat, blood, and urine.

"You... what exactly are you..." Mr. Rabbit Face's voice became weak, hoarse, and tearful.

Ang Lee did not answer. He tilted his head and looked at Isya, who was lying on the ground behind him.

Isya was still moving; he was badly injured, but he was not dead. His right hand was groping for something on the ground.

A pistol, which he had pulled from his waist at some point. Isya's finger was already hooked on the trigger guard, and he was pulling the gun towards himself.

Doyle crouched down beside Isya, looking down as Isya slowly retracted the pistol into his hand.

He did not stop him. Only when Isya finally gripped the gun in his hand and struggled to raise the muzzle did Doyle reach out and grasp Isya's wrist.

Isya's gun was turned 180 degrees in Doyle's hand and aimed at the half of his own face that was left.

Doyle pressed his finger against Isya's and pulled the trigger.

Another gunshot rang out in the basement, and Isya's head bounced off the floor before falling back down, collapsing to the ground.

Doyle stood up and walked behind Li An. His uniform was covered in blood, and the bandage around his neck had come undone, revealing two dark brown holes underneath.

His face was smeared with blood, and his eyes looked down at Mr. Rabbit Face from above Ang Lee's shoulder.

Mr. Rabbitface saw the hole in Doyle's neck and the inhuman expression on Doyle's face.

It was a gaze devoid of emotion, devoid of anger or hatred, like the eyes of a corpse fixed on a still-moving object.

"Doyle..." Mr. Rabbitface's voice was no longer the condescending, sadistic tone it had been, but a pleading, humble one, as if begging a dog not to bite him.

"Doyle, you know me, you know me, don't you? You're mine..."

Doyle didn't react. He stood behind Li An, expressionless.

Ang Lee squatted down, took out the pack of Marlboros from his pocket, pulled one out and put it in his mouth, then lit it with a lighter. He took a deep breath, and the smoke billowed from his nostrils onto Mr. Rabbit Face's face.

"You have a rabbit face," Ang Lee said.

Mr. Rabbit Face opened his mouth, but didn't speak.

"Your butler is very capable. He noticed that Doyle was wrong, and he noticed that I was wrong. But you—"

Ang Lee flicked his cigarette ash, which landed on Mr. Rabbit Face's bathrobe, burning a hole in the dark blue velvet.

"You didn't see anything. You were just thinking about your own pleasure."

Mr. Rabbit Face's body began to tremble.

"Are you going to kill me now?" Mr. Rabbit's voice suddenly turned shrill, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

Ang Lee glanced at him and exhaled another puff of smoke.

"Of course," Ang Lee said. "Who told you to plan to kidnap me?"

"No... I didn't mean to kidnap you..."

"It's my brother... My brother asked me to catch you. He said he saw you on the subway and said you were interesting. He said he wanted to bring you here to play together."

"I...I'm called Ides, my brother's name is Ischus, and Mr. Rabbit Face is actually my brother!"

His lips were trembling, his teeth were chattering, and he was speaking haltingly.

"Oh? Interesting, continue." Li An looked at Ides's expression; he didn't seem to be lying.

Ides' eyes lit up; it was a glimmer of hope.

When people are in despair, they will desperately grasp at any glimmer of hope for survival. However, he didn't know that Ang Lee would give him no way out; he simply thought he could live.

"This mask...this rabbit mask is his. He's the one with the rabbit face. I'm just doing him a favor...doing things for him. He made me dress up as him, represent him, and host these parties for him."

He spoke very quickly, as if he was trying to get more information to save his life.

"He was supposed to come to the party today. He said he saw someone on the Manhattan subway, and that was you."

Ides raised his bulging eyes and looked at Li An. "He said that person is unusual, that he has never met anyone like him before, and he really wants to play with you."

"He told me to send men to kidnap you, and I sent seven, but they all died."

"My brother said it's okay, if you're dead, you're dead, we'll send someone else. Then Doyle messaged me saying he'd caught you."

"My brother called me and said he would be there soon, and told me to get the party ready so we could all play together when he arrived."

His voice suddenly became high-pitched, like a cat being choked.

"When he arrived, Doyle had already led you to the door. He saw Doyle on the security camera and said something was wrong because Doyle was wearing a police hat."

Ides pointed to Doyle's police cap. "Doyle has been a sheriff for five years and never wears a hat. He says it's a habit he deliberately maintains, and my brother knows this. He knew something was wrong when he saw Doyle walk in wearing a police cap."

Ides' tears flowed even more fiercely.

"I told him he was overthinking it, it's just a hat. He ignored me and said, 'If you want to play, play by yourself, I'm not playing along.'"

"I told him he was a coward, and he left through the secret passage."

Ides' voice turned into a sob. She pushed herself up from the ground, took two steps forward on her knees, and grabbed the tips of Li An's shoes with both hands.

"I laughed at him for being a coward... Now I regret it... He was right... I should have gone with him... Don't kill me... Please don't kill me..."

Ang Lee looked down at Ides’s face, which was covered in blood and tears.

"I beg you... don't kill me..." Ides' voice sounded like a dog with a broken leg whimpering.

"I'll do anything you want... I'll be your slave, your dog... I'll do whatever you ask... as long as you don't kill me..."

He banged his head against the ground repeatedly, his forehead hitting the cold marble floor with a dull thud.

Ang Lee kicked Ides away, picked up the needle from the ground that had been used to inject them with muscle relaxants, and aimed the needle at Ides' eyelid.

Ides didn't dodge; instead, she closed her eyes, her body trembling slightly, but a strange change occurred in her expression. The corners of Ides' mouth twitched upwards, and a muffled groan escaped her throat.

The needle pricked Ides' eyelid lightly. A drop of blood seeped from her eyelid and trickled down her nose.

Ides' body tensed up suddenly, then went limp, a twisted, morbid satisfaction on his face.

Ang Lee withdrew the needle, stood up, took a step back, and looked at Ides lying on the ground, her chest heaving violently, her face bearing an expression that was somewhere between pain and pleasure.

His lips trembled, not only from fear but also from excitement. Ang Lee put down the needle and didn't look at him again.

"Damn, I knew it." Li An was speechless. This guy has masochistic tendencies!

Ordinary injuries and pain would give him pleasure, but if he was already losing too much blood and then suffered a severe injury like losing a hand or foot, it would kill this weak guy instantly.

If he dies, there will be no way to torture this pervert; that would be too easy on him.

Ang Lee was in distress; it was the first time he had encountered this psychopath who enjoyed being tortured.

"Wait a minute." Li An had an idea. He turned to look at the butler Isya's corpse, which was still on the ground.

"Doyle," Li An said. Doyle walked over, bowed his head, and awaited orders. "Bring his butler here. Alive, with all four limbs intact."

Doyle turned and walked toward where Isya had fallen. He bent down, grabbed Isya's body by the back of the collar, and dragged him toward Ang Lee like a sack of cement.

A long trail of blood remained on the ground beneath Isya's body. His face was completely gone.

Ang Lee squatted down and took out cinnabar and yellow paper from his sleeve pocket. He picked up a pinch of cinnabar and crushed it on the paper.

Ang Lee placed yellow paper on Isya's forehead, dipped his index finger in cinnabar, and drew a corpse symbol on the paper.

Isya's body stiffened abruptly. Then his eyes closed, and a few seconds later, they opened again, a grayish-white membrane covering the surface of his eyeballs.

He sat up from the ground with such fluidity that it was not like someone who had just suffered a serious injury. His injuries were still severe, and blood was still seeping out, but his body no longer belonged to him.

The system screen popped up.

[Corpse transport successful. Corpse servant +1. Current number of corpse servants: 3/3.]

Ang Lee didn't look at the panel. He placed his hand on Isya's forehead and closed his eyes. The blurry images flowed through his consciousness like a stream washed by rain.

He saw Isya's memories.

Ang Lee laughed, turned his head, and said to Ides, "Want to play a game?"