Starting with the flesh-based stimulant

The human face on the ball of flesh looked at him, its eyes filled with anger.

In an instant, Zhou He felt the flesh behind him become extremely heavy, as if a mountain was pressing down on him.

Now, that mountain is still growing, getting heavier and heavier, making it hard for him to breathe.

It wasn't an illusion; Zhou He could feel his feet sinking deeper and deeper into the ground.

Or is the ground slowly swallowing it up?

Zhou He was unaware of this because he sensed something else.

The flesh on his body, the hands he had been holding, was slowly breaking free, reaching towards his neck little by little, slowly but firmly.

At the same time, all the birch trees seemed to be dragged by an invisible hand, rushing towards the head of the fleshy ball.

Then the head slowly took root, grew hands and feet, and stood on the ground.

The head was still that fleshy ball, but the facial features gradually became more three-dimensional and vivid, and the anger became more tangible, making Zhou's heart beat faster and faster.

Below the head, the entire body is made of birch trees.

Thin, paper-like birch bark kept peeling away, revealing one eye after another, staring straight at Zhou He.

The eyes varied in size, but without exception, they were all filled with a mixture of resentment and fear.

Zhou and the others seemed to hear their voices faintly:

"Why did you come here!"

"You did something wrong, why should we be made to pay with our lives?"

"Let's die together, hahahahaha!"

Countless sounds mingled together, forming a vortex.

Zhou He was swept into the whirlpool and felt as if he had lost his balance, but his feet sank deep into the ground, supporting him so that he did not fall.

The flesh behind him, its hands had already broken free of Zhou He, and were getting closer and closer to his neck.

Zhou and his subconscious struggle to separate them yielded little result.

He suddenly remembered the peddler's gambler-like look earlier. At the time, he thought the peddler was making a desperate gamble and even took the opportunity to ask for some benefits.

I think I've been scammed.

It wasn't exactly a scam—

Zhou He suddenly felt like giving up.

It turns out the peddler wasn't a gambler; from beginning to end, he was just a thief.

Even though she knew all along that the peddler was good at petty theft and swindling, why did she still feel like she had him under her thumb because he kept making concessions?

It still relies too much on its own psychological analysis of eye contact and behavioral patterns.

Even though the world has shown me so many things that are different from my previous life, why can't I adjust my mindset and always subconsciously believe in my profession?

The real gambler is actually yourself!

In order to find a chance to escape as soon as possible and to learn more information, he became the scapegoat in this substitution.

Zhou He's hands, which were separating the flesh, were getting weaker and weaker. Suddenly, the image of the old hunchback in the dilapidated temple flashed before his eyes.

"It's only natural."

That's what the old hunchback said.

Is it really a matter of course?

The old hunchback has already been killed by himself.

Now, am I going to be killed by another piece of flesh?

Zhou He couldn't turn back. He didn't know if the flesh on his body had opened its eyes, but the monster opposite him already had so many eyes, it wouldn't make a difference if it had one more, right?

He released his grip, touched his chest, and felt the hard knife and something else.

It is a road sign.

My backup plan.

Originally, I thought that even if there was any danger, I would have the peddler with me. If all else failed, I could just eat the meat behind me, take out my travel permit, and become a butcher. That way, I would have a chance to save my life.

Looking back now, I realize I was being too naive.

What chance did this monster have to put up a fight?

Zhou He suddenly laughed, threw the meat behind him off, and dropped it on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

He sat down on the ground, his eyes relaxed, looking at the ball of flesh in the distance—no, it wasn't a ball of flesh anymore, it was a ball of flesh stuck on a tree-man.

"Sir, what are you?"

Zhou He opened his mouth, but his voice was not loud.

In fact, one of the most important reasons he chose to become a psychiatrist was because he wanted to know more secrets.

He originally wanted to become a psychologist.

From a young age, Zhou He had a liking for prying into other people's dark secrets. Later, he discovered that psychologists could openly steal other people's secrets, so he went to study this major.

Since he came into this world, he seems to know a lot of things, but it's always been a blur, and this feeling is very painful.

He was dying, and Zhou He still wanted to know something.

"So, sir, what are you?"

Hearing his voice, the fleshy ball's anger intensified. Its footsteps thundered, and it strode up to Zhou He, looking down at him.

Zhou He felt himself shrouded in shadow, a face formed by a human skin rolled up, his body covered in the thin white bark of birch, interspersed with countless open eyes.

He became more and more relaxed, and repeated the question again:

"Sir, what are you?"

"You beast! Give me back my basin!"

The tree-man roared, its beard and hair standing on end, and gave an irrelevant answer.

It's scary.

But Zhou He was no longer afraid.

He told himself that it was just death, and it would happen soon.

Just like when he was very young, all children were afraid of ghost stories, and he was no exception. But one day, he convinced himself.

If you encounter a ghost, there's no way to fight back; you're going to die anyway, so being afraid is useless.

If one can resist, then fear is even more unacceptable; therefore, one should not feel fear when faced with things that cannot be understood.

Zhou smiled, touched the tattered fisherman's hat on his head, and said in a steady voice:

"Sir, someone stole your things... Oh right, it was a basin, wasn't it? The one who stole your basin was Chen Erlu, a peddler."

After he finished speaking, he looked up at the tree man, who already seemed a little impatient.

Zhou He wasn't in a hurry, and spoke a little faster, saying:

"He's already run away, and I'm the scapegoat, but I know something that might interest you."

The tree-man slowed his breathing slightly, seemingly somewhat interested in Zhou He's words.

"explain!"

"Sir, let's have a give and take. First, tell me what you are, okay?"

Zhou He smiled, his eyes fixed on the tree man.

Why ask this question?

Zhou himself didn't know, perhaps he foresaw his own death, and he was somewhat unwilling to accept it.

"brute!"

The tree-man didn't respond to him, but clapped his hands angrily, stirring up a gust of wind.

Zhou He was in the eye of the storm, with the piece of wild meat behind him.

"Snapped!"

Two enormous wooden hands came together, and hundreds of eyes collided, squeezed, and cried out in pain.

Zhou He disappeared directly into the slapping of the wooden hand, merging with the 'flesh' behind him.

They didn't even have time to feel the pain, or even realize they were going to die.

It was gone in an instant.

"You glib-tongued beast! Just like that peddler."

The tree-man killed Zhou He as easily as swatting an ant. After a few heavy breaths, he looked at the two men in black and said:

"That wild donkey isn't here. Go find it, go after it!"

Having said that, he glanced at Jin Cheng not far away, shook his head, and said:

"Three days, or you die!"

The two knelt down and answered in unison:

"Follow Lord Momokawa's orders!"

After saying this, they saw that Grandpa Taochuan had vanished into the air, leaving only a wrinkled human skin lying on the ground, which was quickly swallowed by the earth, and everything calmed down.

The two of them didn't bother to pack up and turned to leave.

Apart from this forest, all the towering birch trees have disappeared.

It was as if nothing had happened.

Only a short distance away, on the ground, lay a silent mixture of tattered clothes and dust.