I Am Your Natural Enemy-Chapter 478 - 195: Turn-based, Can’t Afford the Price (5k)_3

Chapter 478: Chapter 195: Turn-based, Can’t Afford the Price (5k)_3

"Kill me. Kill me.

"Once you kill me, you can bear all of this.

"Do you think I want to live? I’ve wanted to die for a long time, but unfortunately, I cannot die. I can’t.

"I can only bear all of this. Why must we face such an ending?

"Come on, kill us."

The scene changed once more. In the dimness, a flicker of light appeared. He could barely make out two figures talking in the darkness, and Wen Yan could only understand fragments of their conversation.

"Put some malt candy in their mouths, so at least they taste some sweetness."

"No. Last time, in the village next door, someone was killed. I heard they cut out his tongue so he couldn’t report to King Yan in the afterlife."

"Why go to such lengths? We can’t even survive. Why must it be like this...?"

"What do you know? Get out of the way."

The scene flickered again, revealing rows upon rows of small, unmarked graves, nameless, unrecorded in family genealogies, and excluded from ancestral burial grounds.

Then, the small graves vanished. The land flattened, and trees began to sprout.

Distant trees grew taller and larger; some even became ancient, thousand-year-old trees with protective plaques affixed to their trunks.

It was as if a line stretched from a thousand years ago to the present, from far to near.

Pairs of clear, transparent eyes, as if untouched by any defilement, slowly emerged.

They stood behind the Big Head Ghost, densely packed and innumerable.

That was the purest resentment—the bitterness of dying at birth.

It was not hatred, just instinctive resentment.

A resentment that Wen Yan’s Yang Energy could neither purify nor extinguish.

The Big Head Ghost looked at Wen Yan, laughing wildly, his voice laced with sarcasm and venom.

"It’s not like I haven’t been killed before. Come on, kill me."

All the images dispersed, and they stood once more on the stage.

The Big Head Ghost’s head had partially recovered. Wen Yan looked behind him; all the houses were open.

Countless Ghosts emerged from the various villages.

Some wore hemp clothes, some wore long robes, and others wore modern attire.

Together, they walked out of the houses.

The Big Head Ghost wore a mocking smile.

"You people are all hypocrites. You always have been, from ancient times to the present.

"You always find noble-sounding reasons to achieve your goals and absolve yourselves of responsibility.

"You are no different from them.

"It’s not me trapping them; they are simply repaying their debts.

"Once they’ve paid them off, they can naturally leave.

"If you kill me, you too can leave and achieve your purpose.

"Everything here is fair. Whatever you do comes with a price.

"Kill me, or kill them. Whatever you want to achieve, you can.

"It’s very simple. Come on."

Wen Yan looked at the Big Head Ghost, whose eyes had already vanished.

Behind him, a vast number of infants floated, one next to the other, silently watching everything unfold.

Wen Yan observed the scene silently, and he understood the origin of this Big Head Ghost.

At that moment, he truly understood what his aunt had meant when she said some things were not for him to bear.

It wasn’t just the psychological pressure of killing, nor merely the blood from his wounds.

It was also a tangible power and burden.

He might truly not be able to bear those things; they could crush him.

Wen Yan glanced at the numerous Ghosts in the village and understood that they were also one of the Big Head Ghost’s sources of power.

Whether he killed all the Ghosts here or killed the Big Head Ghost, the result would be the same.

The Big Head Ghost was forcing him to choose, pressuring him to make a decision.

To resolve the situation here, there were only these two choices.

Wen Yan recalled reading something in the Netherworld a few days prior. One passage presented a viewpoint:

It argued that everything in this world presents a difficult choice, and any decision you make is also a difficult choice.

Those who didn’t see it as a dilemma simply felt that abandoning one option seemed easier at the time. People subconsciously choose the path that feels emotionally lighter.

This feeling of an easier path doesn’t mean the chosen direction is actually simpler; it might even be more arduous.

Wen Yan mulled it over and began to understand.

He didn’t actually care about the Ghosts in the village, nor about the Big Head Ghost. Whether he forcefully killed the Ghosts here or the Big Head Ghost, both were traps.

After a brief contemplation, he reached out with both hands, gently took the small hands resting on the Big Head Ghost’s shoulders, and pulled them away.

Instantly, Wen Yan felt as if hundreds of pounds of pressure bore down on him.

His bones all seemed to crack under the strain.

Behind the Big Head Ghost, countless infants landed in Wen Yan’s hands.

A slight smile touched Wen Yan’s lips. The pressure on his body intensified, yet he felt a sense of relief in his heart.

"If this place were fair, you wouldn’t exist.

"Your very existence is a testament to unfairness.

"Fortunately, the rules here are, at least on the surface, fair.

"What is given is what is gained.

"But with your level of skill, you think you can guilt-trip me? You think you can fool me?

"No matter who I choose to kill, it might be a burden I cannot bear.

"You are you, and these children are these children. Do you think you can conflate the two?

"Do you think I can’t see it by now? You’re merely a monster born from the resentment of these children, combined with the fear of the Ghosts in this village.

"You wanted me to bear it, didn’t you?

"Well, I’m here. So, what now?

"I’ve taken on all this. What price will you pay?

"It’s your turn."

As Wen Yan finished speaking, the Big Head Ghost—who hadn’t died even when Wen Yan blew his head off—suddenly froze.

He tried to flee, but after only a few steps, before he could even leave the stage, his body began to stiffen.

The color drained from his body, fading to an ashen gray.

With a face full of bitterness and disbelief, the Big Head Ghost gradually stiffened, as if transforming into a figure made of ash.

Then, a slight breeze stirred, and he instantly disintegrated into flying ash.

He had assumed Wen Yan would dare neither to kill all the Ghosts here nor the countless children behind him.

But he had never anticipated that Wen Yan would actually choose to shoulder it all.

And under the rules of this place, Wen Yan having shouldered the burden of those children meant the Big Head Ghost had to pay the price.

Since he couldn’t afford it, he could only pay with his entire being.