Chapter 31 Child's Debt (Part 6) Besides Chu Yue, who else could be in the illusory realm...?

As she finished speaking, the girl with the double buns darted around with her eyes, and seeing that Song San's expression was not good, she tilted her head and said, "Brother, it's getting late, you should rest."

After saying that, she turned around and went to join her companions. The children were laughing and playing together, chattering away like a flock of fluffy baby birds.

Normally, Song San might have found this scene heartwarming and endearing.

In this rural forest, a group of ragged, unknown children gathered together. Instead of rushing to escape, they settled there, leisurely and content.

This scene was undeniably bizarre.

These people seemed to be lying in ambush, waiting for her arrival.

Thinking this, she casually tightened the water pouch, stepped into the crowd, and sat down on the ground, lifting her robe. As gazes swept over her, she grinned and asked, "Children, where did you come from? And where are you going?"

Upon hearing this, the previously lively crowd immediately fell silent, with only the child's large, dark, bright eyes staring intently at her, which sent a chill down Song San's spine.

Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she felt a trace of resentment she hadn't felt in a long time. It was colorless and formless, yet so heavy that it seemed to have solidified into a substance, making her heart sink.

Song San couldn't help but turn his head, trying to find the source of that strange feeling.

"We escaped from human slave traders." The boy's voice was very loud in the empty cave. Song San was stunned for a moment, then turned his head and sat up straight, looking at the source of the voice.

The speaker was a round-faced child, about five or six years old, with slightly chubby cheeks covered in dust, as if he had just rolled around in the fields. His messy hair hung down to his shoulders. Although he was unkempt, he exuded a cleverness.

"Human slave traders?" Song San was taken aback, not expecting this reason. "Who would be so audacious as to kidnap young children?"

The boy lowered his eyelashes, pursed his lips and remained silent for a moment before speaking, "We're not quite sure either. The person was covering his face, so we couldn't see what he looked like at all."

To cover one's face?

Recalling what he had seen earlier, Song San blurted out, "Was it a man wearing a pig's head and with iron chains between his feet?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, it's him."

That's quite a coincidence.

Song San placed his hands on his knees, his fingertips tapping slowly, and said unhurriedly, "Then why are you staying here instead of fleeing further away?"

Before they could respond, she continued, "I just escaped from that slave trader today. He chased me all the way here, and he's probably still in the woods right now."

Upon hearing this, a group of children immediately cried out in alarm, their faces filled with fear.

Song San took in the expressions on the faces of these little sprouts and began to ponder.

If what they say is true, and seven children have run away from the slave trader, then the butcher should be in a hurry to chase after the lost children. But not only is he not chasing after them, he also has the leisure to capture her. And right now, the victims don't seem to be running away. They are not only playing and frolicking in the woods, but they are also "meddling" and taking in this poor woman.

This lie is so well-made, it's full of loopholes.

Song San sneered inwardly, but remained outwardly expressionless.

She looked around at the group of children, her gaze lingering for a moment on their dirty faces and tattered clothes, and asked with feigned concern, "Since that bastard is still in the woods, aren't you afraid he'll catch up with you?"

Upon hearing this, the round-headed boy quickly lowered his head, his voice trembling with fear: "We...we dare not run around, for fear of getting lost and being caught by him."

He lied again.

"Very well." Song San sighed softly. "Since I've run into such an absurd situation, I can't just sit idly by. How about this, you all come with me first thing tomorrow morning."

She raised the corners of her lips, her smile carrying a deeper meaning. "How about your brother takes you out of the woods to report this to the authorities?"

Seemingly not expecting Song San to say such a thing, several gazes froze in mid-air, their dark eyes wide open, as if they were all stunned.

Seeing this, Song San couldn't help but chuckle. She stood up and walked deeper into the cave, saying, "It's getting late, everyone should rest."

After today's commotion, she belatedly realized that she felt sore and weak all over.

-

The wind whistled past my ears.

My abdomen felt like it was pressed against something hard, making it difficult to breathe.

Blood rushed back to the head, a dull rush of blood to the head, and a buzzing in the ears.

Song San barely opened her heavy eyelids. As far as she could see, the world turned upside down—her body was seven feet off the ground, head down, being carried on someone's shoulder, swaying like an insignificant piece of cargo.

The person beneath her walked steadily, the iron chains clanging, each step feeling like a blow to Song San's heart, making her chest feel tight.

My vision swayed up and down with the person's steps, and I could barely make out the surrounding scenery.

This should be a narrow corridor, with mottled walls, cluttered corners, and a damp, musty smell in the air.

Song San's heart sank little by little.

She slept so soundly last night; the spring water in that water bag must have been laced with some potent ingredients.

Her guess was right; the children were indeed in cahoots with the butcher.

She just couldn't understand why the owner of this illusion had gone to such lengths to send her back to the butcher. Was it simply to torment her for his own amusement?

A moment later, the person beneath him stopped. Song San felt the hand covering his calf suddenly release him. The next instant, his body lost its support and slid down, crashing heavily to the ground.

My back slammed against the cold ground, and the pain spread rapidly along my shoulder blades throughout my body.

Song San couldn't help but let out a muffled groan.

Before she could catch her breath, her ankle tightened, and a familiar feeling of confinement followed.

Not again?

The smell of dust and damp mildew hit Song San, making him frown in disgust. He slowly raised his hand from the shadows, his slightly drooping fingers curled up, his thumb curled into his palm, his fingertip lightly touching the base of his ring finger, and the remaining fingers closed in turn.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the quiet, enclosed room.

Perhaps because he was wearing a pig's head, the butcher did not notice anything unusual and continued walking forward with his head covered.

Song San narrowed his eyes, began to chant an incantation, and his fingertips changed accordingly. A soft buzzing sound rang out in the air, and a point of purple lightning gradually condensed at his fingertips, within which several tiny runes could be seen.

Kill this pig-headed man, and that will solve everything.

A voice suddenly rang in my mind.

Whatever butcher or millstone they are, they're all just illusions. Let's just eliminate them all and then find out who's behind them.

A surge of anger welled up in Song San's heart, and following his instincts, he flipped his wrist and aimed it at the person in front of him.

Although suppressed by the illusion, and only able to use 60% of his magic, it was still enough.

Unaware of what was happening, the butcher stepped past the corner of the secret room and went deeper into the room. At the same time, a faint sob came from below.

Intermittent, as if carrying endless grievances and fear.

Song San was momentarily dazed, then his eyes cleared.

This interruption caused the fingertip technique to unknowingly fall apart.

Before she could have a chance to regret it, the pig-headed man grabbed her ankle and threw her forward. The restraints on her ankles were removed, and when Song San came to her senses, she heard the sound of iron gates slamming against each other.

The butcher dragged the iron chain beneath his feet, walking further and further away.

The faint firelight illuminated the mottled walls around them, and the air was filled with the smell of decay. The cries of children grew clearer, as if they were right next to their ears.

Song San lay down on his back and calmed himself down.

When she was thoroughly annoyed by the incessant crying, she finally sat up and looked in the direction of the sound.

A torch was stuck in the wall nearby for illumination. The crying was hidden behind the iron fence. Song San stared intently for a while and could barely make out two or three small figures, whose bodies were trembling slowly with the crying.

From a distance, it looked quite pitiful.

Unexpectedly, this butcher had captured more than just her.

Whether it was just for show or she had truly committed such a heinous crime, Song San had no time to care. A sudden tearing pain in her palm caught her off guard, causing her to close her eyes abruptly.

I used a bit too much force when I made the hand seal just now, and I'm afraid I reopened my old injury.

Although it was an illusion, the pain after being injured was incredibly real, even more so.

After enduring for a long time, Song Sanfang slowly opened his eyes, gritted his teeth and tore open the knot he had tied earlier, tearing apart the layers of cloth strips.

Overnight, the scabs on the wound had stuck to the strip of cloth. Song San pinched a corner of the cloth and tried to lift it, and saw that the skin and flesh underneath were being pulled up, and warm blood immediately seeped out, flowing down his palm to his wrist.

"hiss--"

That heartless butcher!

Song San cursed under his breath, gritted his teeth, tore off the blood-stained strip of cloth, and casually threw it aside. Then, he reached into his pocket with his left hand, pulled out a paper packet, hastily opened it, and sprinkled all the white powder inside onto the wound.

After a quick treatment, his undershirt was soaked with cold sweat.

He tore off a corner of his shirt and wrapped it around his palm again. Song San lowered his head and bit one end of the strip of cloth, listening to the rustling sound in his ears. He silently tied the strip of cloth tightly, lowered his eyelashes, took out a hard object from his sleeve, held it in his hand, and waited for the object to approach.

She had noticed a faint breathing sound as soon as she entered.

Unlike the noisy crying of a child, this breathing was much more restrained.

Within the limited field of vision, a pair of black soap boots suddenly came into view.

In the dim light, the embroidered bamboo on the shoes stood out—the stitches were rough and the shapes were distorted, just like the pair she had embroidered for Chu Yue when she was a child.

wrong.

Song San gasped.

Besides Chu Yue, who else would wear such a pair of black boots?

If it weren't for Chu Yue, who else could come and go freely in the virtual world?

A pale hand reached out to her.

In a flash, Song San raised his left hand, gripped it tightly, and pulled it forward with all his might.

The person in front of her was clearly not prepared for such a turn of events. She grabbed him and made him stagger forward for a moment. The next instant, his foot suddenly lost its footing, and he fell heavily backward.

The icy blade was firmly pressed against the man's exposed neck; just one more inch forward and it would pierce the flesh, drawing blood instantly.

Song San looked down at the person beneath him, a few strands of hair falling down, obscuring half of his vision, his chest heaving violently with each breath, as if each breath carried a scorching flame.

As the movement rose and fell, a thin chain slipped out from under the garment, swaying slightly in the arc of the glittering gold object at its base.

A gaze immediately followed.

"Senior brother?" the man opened his mouth, his voice hoarse.

Song San narrowed his eyes, his hand holding the knife trembling slightly, and drew a shallow bloody mark on the man's fragile neck.