Chapter 290: You Might Not Be Human, But I’m Definitely a Dog!
Inside the room, the black energy began to rage and churn violently, rattling the surrounding furniture.
Stream after stream of that dark energy poured into the head chef’s corpse. Then, a pitch-black, luminous shadow came howling out of the gates of hell.
Even before this shadow had acquired a physical form, it was already making the guide dog tremble uncontrollably.
When it fused with the body that had been consumed by the black energy, the once-ordinary corpse underwent a fundamental transformation.
The moment the demon opened its eyes, its body seemed to activate, crimson markings appearing on its skin like some sort of ancient runes.
The demon’s hide kept condensing, taking on the sheen of dazzling gemstones, exuding a dark luster.
Each deep breath it took seemed to suck all the surrounding air into its belly, as if even the air itself was bowing to its authority, too afraid to resist.
Its eyes radiated a crafty, cruel malevolence that made anyone who met its gaze feel as if they were plummeting into an abyss, unable to look directly at it.
Such was its majesty and terror.
Not just the guide dog, but even the little girl herself felt a flicker of fear toward her own servant.
She thought to herself: Is this thing really going to listen to me?
If it rebels, I’m dead, aren’t I?
The demon’s overwhelming presence was enough to make anyone avert their eyes.
The little girl felt that this demon could probably take on the gravelly-voiced old man single-handedly.
Just as her thoughts were spiraling, the Key Demon’s voice echoed through the room.
“Congratulations, master. You have summoned an S-rank demon.”
According to the Key Demon’s explanation, the higher the rank, the greater the demon’s intelligence.
Higher-ranked demons could help their masters complete more complex tasks.
For example, A-rank and B-rank demons could only carry out basic commands—things like autonomous combat, routine patrols, gathering information, and so on. Those weren’t a problem.
But if you wanted a demon to devise strategies and give you advice, only S-rank and above could do that.
There was no doubt about this demon’s power. The little girl had hit gold on her very first pull, proving just how pure her bloodline really was.
“Oh my god, if S-rank is already this powerful, I can’t even imagine what SS-rank or higher demons must be like.”
After conversing with the S-rank demon for a while, the little girl finally confirmed that this thing actually did obey her, acknowledging her as its master.
Indeed, the Key Demon truly was the source of all power.
Even though she had lost some lifespan, having such formidable combat strength by her side meant that from now on, nobody would dare disrespect her.
And this was still daytime. After midnight, the demon’s power would increase even further.
According to the contract, the demon could not harm its master and had to follow her orders completely.
The little girl was practically itching to see her S-rank demon unleash its full might!
As a high-ranking demon, this S-rank creature possessed its own intelligence.
After chatting with its master for a bit, it scanned the entire room.
Its gaze eventually landed on the guide dog.
That one look made the guide dog tremble in sheer terror, its eyes filled with dread.
“Master, I need to feed in order to increase my combat strength.”
With that, the S-rank demon shot its master—the little girl—a meaningful glance.
In its eyes, that guide dog was premium-grade ingredients.
Demons could enhance their power by devouring other beings.
The S-rank demon had just been summoned and claimed it was hungry—maybe that was just an excuse. The real goal was to boost its combat ability.
The little girl followed the demon’s gaze and her expression drastically changed.
Before she could even say a word of protest, an overwhelmingly terrifying pressure erupted in the room, making everyone’s pupils constrict sharply.
Zhang Yangqing merely took a single breath, and in an instant, everyone in the room felt as if they were pinned down by a giant divine palm.
The S-rank demon was flattened to the ground, not even worthy of kneeling—just lying there prostrate.
It raised its head and looked toward where Zhang Yangqing was sitting, its eyes filled with sheer panic. Even when facing the Lord of Hell, it had never experienced such utter shock.
This was the first time this S-rank demon had ever shown such an expression.
It felt as though every bone in its body was about to shatter, and breathing became a struggle.
What kind of overwhelming might was this? Who exactly was this guy?!
Now, not only the S-rank demon but even the little girl beside him was terrified to the core.
It was the first time she had ever seen Zhang Yangqing unleash his heaven-shaking power—and it was just with a single breath.
This was even more exaggerated than when he killed the gravelly-voiced old man. No wonder he was so confident, looking down on everyone.
At first, the little girl had thought he was just arrogant. But now, it was clear—someone with this kind of power really could afford not to take anyone seriously.
Even the usually expressionless Key Demon wore a look of bewilderment. It had seen countless powerful beings, but now it felt like it was staring at some kind of creature that shouldn’t even exist in this dimension.
The one who felt the most triumphant was Zhang Yangqing’s guide dog. When the S-rank demon had locked eyes on it earlier, it thought it was going to die.
After all, as an animal, it could sense that the opponent’s strength far surpassed its own—a feeling of imminent death had washed over it.
But now it seemed like… my master is even more awesome!
“Uh, that might have been a misunderstanding. Please don’t take it to heart.”
The little girl started to explain. She didn’t want her S-rank demon—summoned at the cost of her own lifespan—to be killed just like that. Wouldn’t that be a total loss?
Zhang Yangqing ignored her entirely and said to his guide dog, “Go up there and slap him twice. Teach him a lesson.”
Those words gave the guide dog an immense boost of confidence. It felt like it was invincible now.
With someone this powerful backing it, what the hell was there to be afraid of?
Zhang Yangqing was making one thing clear to everyone present: even his dog was not to be messed with.
The guide dog strutted over to the S-rank demon with an arrogant swagger.
Right in front of the S-rank demon’s wide-eyed stare, the guide dog didn’t hold back. It burst with its own ferocity, muscles bulging and fangs bared, and then—smack, smack!—delivered two merciless paw slaps straight across the demon’s face.
It hurt. Real, genuine pain.
The guide dog’s front claws had sharp nails, and they left several bleeding gashes across the demon’s face.
And then came the utter humiliation. As an S-rank demon, it had just been slapped twice by a dog.
If word of this ever got out, how would its peers ever stop laughing at it?
Seeing the resentment and defiance in the S-rank demon’s eyes, the guide dog slapped it twice more.
Its claws carved even more marks across the noble S-rank demon’s face.
What? You got a problem?
Go ahead—try to fight back.
Just see if my master won’t put you in your place.
Yeah, I might not be all that, but my master is ridiculously strong.
Are you looking at me like I’m just riding on my master’s coattails?
So what if I am? I’m a dog—that’s literally what I do!
You might not be human, but I’m definitely a dog.
Only after the S-rank demon submitted did the guide dog finally withdraw its paws.
It raised its head high, pranced away with a cocky little skip, and even pointed its rear end at the S-rank demon.
Then it trotted back to Zhang Yangqing’s feet, nuzzling its head against his pant leg in gratitude.
The guide dog had never dreamed it would get to slap an S-rank demon four times across the face—and the demon wouldn’t even dare to fight back.
Man, that felt good.
A thought crossed its mind: So this is what it means to be a dog—and it’s awesome.
After everything settled, Zhang Yangqing finally eased up on the pressure, allowing the others to breathe again.
The little girl felt as though the enormous boulder pressing down on her chest had finally been lifted—a tremendous sense of relief.
The S-rank demon struggled to its feet, head lowered, not daring to look forward. Its stomach churned with a thousand grievances.
If any other Chosen One had summoned an S-rank demon, they’d be treating it like royalty.
The best food and drink—everything would be offered up on a silver platter.
They’d be hoping that the S-rank demon would save their lives at a critical moment and help them out of a jam.
But this demon? It hadn’t even had a single bite to eat before it got slammed with a wave of oppressive force and four face-slapping paw strikes.
The S-rank demon was hurting inside, but it didn’t dare even breathe too loudly.
Because the guy sitting on that sofa—it absolutely could not afford to offend.
And it wasn’t exaggerating—that guy could probably just crook his finger and reduce it to ashes.
The S-rank demon was baffled: If you’re already this strong, why the hell did you even summon me? To be a wage slave?
“Remember your place, all of you. This is the first and last time.”
Zhang Yangqing’s voice echoed through the room, announcing the rules of his domain.
When you’re powerful enough, you get to make the rules.
He wasn’t just warning the S-rank demon—he was also reminding the little girl.
Don’t try any tricks. If I want to, I can wipe you all out in an instant.
A tool should know its place.
Hearing Zhang Yangqing’s words, everyone in the room nodded submissively—even the S-rank demon awakened its ultimate talent: bootlicking.
It assured him that nothing like that would ever happen again.
Zhang Yangqing nodded in satisfaction, and only then did they all breathe a sigh of relief.
The S-rank demon glanced at the little girl, as if to say: Why didn’t you tell me this big shot was so terrifying? If I’d known, I never would have pulled that stunt!
The little girl rolled her eyes at it: Just don’t provoke him, alright? You got me crushed under that pressure too, you know.
That little incident was over. Tonight, there were still two things left to do: kill the fake villa owner, set the villa on fire, and get the hell out of this place.
Thinking about it that way, the Chosen Ones couldn’t help but wonder: Are we the bad guys here?
The fake villa owner had invited them here with good food and lodging, and after taking his treasure, they were going to commit murder, arson, and flee.
But then again, the fake villa owner had been planning to kill them and the other guests anyway. This place was full of traps. Surviving at all was already a blessing.
With that thought, the Chosen Ones adjusted their mindset. In the Horror Tale World, you couldn’t apply normal logic.
Ramirez, however, had a firmer mentality: As long as I live, I don’t care who dies.
He didn’t even realize it himself, but normally on Blue Star, he was a pretty kind person.
But once he stepped into the Horror Tale World, it was like he became a completely different person—as if a second personality emerged.
His ability to adapt to the Horror Tale’s demands made many envious.
Because it seemed like everyone had figured out: his playstyle was just not human.
To be more precise, Dragon Country’s Celestial Master was simply unreasonable, while Ramirez was utterly unscrupulous.
Earlier today, Ramirez’s guide dog had been strengthened as well, but he didn’t plan to take on the fake villa owner himself.
The head chef was already dead, and the A-rank demon was by his side.
What he needed to do was, while the gravelly-voiced old man was dealing with the villa owner, find a way to set the fire and escape.
No matter whether the old man won or lost, his plan for tonight was solid.
After the noisy knocking died down, the clock struck 1:00 AM.
With an A-rank demon, things became much easier.
At night, the A-rank demon was boosted, and the other maids in the villa were absent, so his oil-spilling plan was set in motion.
“The Horror Tale World really does lay out every step so clearly. As long as it feels smooth, it means I’m on the right track.”
That was Ramirez’s method of judgment.
After all, he was blind. His guide dog might be loyal, but it was still just a dog.
Spilling oil and starting fires—that was better left to the A-rank demon.
If he did it himself, a blind man pouring oil could easily end up dousing himself and getting caught in the blaze—then he’d really be in trouble.
“Pour some on those curtains too. Try to form a fire line along the corridor. Especially the library—make sure it’s all connected.”
Ramirez directed the A-rank demon’s oil-spilling operation.
Where to burn, what to burn well—those details had to be spot on.
Then came the waiting. Wait for the gravelly-voiced old man and the fake villa owner to have their falling-out.
Before long, sounds of fighting erupted from within the villa. Powerful shockwaves rippled through the corridors.
The vibrations shook some of the paintings hanging on the walls.
By now, the gravelly-voiced old man must have already clashed with the fake villa owner.
Both of them had guilty consciences and secrets they couldn’t speak of. The Chosen Ones only needed to exploit their psychological differences to create conflict.
Once the fake villa owner realized that others knew he was an impostor, he would certainly try to eliminate that person.
And the gravelly-voiced old man, already harboring murderous intent toward the fake owner, was more than happy to go all the way.
Like dry wood meeting a flame—of course they’d start fighting!
At this stage, some Chosen Ones, in order to ensure the fake villa owner’s death, had even secretly slipped chronic poison into his dinner via the head chef.
That was also preparation for taking over as the villa’s master later.
But none of them had the interest to watch the two powerful NPCs duke it out. Watching the spectacle was fine, but losing your life was a whole different matter.
Besides, the Chosen Ones were all blind. What the hell were they going to see in the dead of night?
Even the supernaturals among them weren’t interested.
There were plenty of finer details to consider here.
Take Sidney, for example—a supernatural with rich combat experience. He would never set the house on fire right at the start of the fight.
If he did, the two combatants would quickly stop fighting and realize they’d been played.
Things would spiral out of control.
Because they’d barely started fighting and were still full of energy—they’d have plenty left to take out a Chosen One.
You only set the fire when the fight was nearing its end—or just about to end.
That way, both fighters would be utterly exhausted and wouldn’t have the energy to bother with you.
Sidney basically simulated how an ordinary person would play it, then followed that script. He didn’t act like a supernatural at all.
Second detail: Rule 2 stated that Chosen Ones could not be without a mirror.
No matter where you went, a mirror was essential.
Since the rules said so, you had to carry one.
If you’d given your mirror to the gravelly-voiced old man, then find another one. Make sure you had one on you.
Third detail: Some Chosen Ones who had received “gifts” from the gravelly-voiced old man—so-called “fingers”—should find a way to discard them at this stage.
That way, if the old man survived the fire, he wouldn’t come after them.
This was where a few high-level Chosen Ones stood out. They were among the best of the supernaturals.
After all, everything had been built on their own lies. To ensure their safety going forward, British Chosen One Earl Campbell decided to root out the problem entirely.
As he put it: “If the fake villa owner and the gravelly-voiced old man don’t die, I won’t be able to sleep or eat in peace!”
On the seventh floor of the villa, while the two were locked in fierce combat, Campbell appeared silently at the scene.
He leaned against a corner, listening to the sounds of battle.
Interspersed among the clashes were the curses of both powerful figures.
Each was accusing the other of being dishonorable and playing dirty.
Usually, that was the sign of a fight reaching its climax.
The two had been fighting for a full twenty minutes. Most Chosen Ones were waiting anxiously.
Waiting for that final fatal blow, waiting for that last unwilling scream of agony.
If a Chosen One was bold enough, they could send their A-rank demon to scout ahead.
Sidney, whose hearing was exceptionally sharp, started setting the fire as soon as he heard the fighting above come to an end.
Under normal circumstances, the fake villa owner couldn’t beat the gravelly-voiced old man—especially at night, since the fake owner didn’t have any nighttime boosts.
On top of that, some Chosen Ones had fed him chronic poison, making him struggle more and more as the fight dragged on.
And so, the battle ended like that. The corridor was a complete mess.
Right at that moment, Earl Campbell struck without mercy.
In the darkness, he transformed into a pitch-black blade—a flash of terrifying knife-light that came from his bare hand.
His figure was dreamlike and illusory, his aura ghostly and demonic, dazzling to the eye.
The gravelly-voiced old man was startled by the sudden attack, but as a seasoned fighter, he reacted in time.
Fleeing was out of the question at this point. The old man prepared for a last-ditch trade-off—a mutual kill—and thrust toward Campbell’s chest.
If Campbell hit him, he’d hit Campbell too.
That would mean both of them dying on the spot.
In truth, the old man didn’t actually want to go for a mutual kill—he just wanted to force Campbell to back off with the threat.
But since Campbell had made his move, he was confident in his success.
Strike while the iron’s hot!
Miss this chance, and he’d never get another shot at ambushing the old man.
Shlick!
The sound of hearts being pierced rang out simultaneously.
Both of their hands had pierced through each other’s hearts. Blood burst out from their backs in a spray, leaving gaping holes in their bodies.
The gravelly-voiced old man’s face was one of utter shock: Dude, what grudge do you have against me that you’d trade your life for mine?
Campbell chuckled, his body dissolving into a swarm of bats that scattered in all directions.
Then they reformed in another spot.
He appeared completely unharmed, his clothes still immaculate.
Such was the skill of a supernatural being.
As long as he didn’t suffer a fatal wound, he could consume energy from his body to transform into bats.
However, this move consumed a lot of energy and couldn’t be used many times.
And if the bats were attacked while scattered, he would still take damage.
But right now, it was a one-on-one ambush, a life-for-life gamble—and the advantage was overwhelmingly his.
Looking down at the fallen gravelly-voiced old man, Campbell’s lips curled upward in a triumphant smirk.
“The bosses in the Horror Tale World are nothing special, huh?”
He stood with his hands behind his back, gently stroking his white beard, looking elegantly self-satisfied as he spoke.
As if he had just accomplished something effortlessly.
He was proving to the world that his strength was definitely top-tier.
This earned cheers from many viewers in Britain.
However, this behavior drew contempt from many supernaturals watching from behind their screens.
They couldn’t help but think: Anyone watching would think he’d actually killed the real boss.
