Murder God Chapter 1
byChapter 1: Entwined by Chains
In the pitch-black room, golden chains hung in mid-air, woven into a net.
The sleeping youth was fastened to that net, his skin pale like fine jade.
Chains weighed upon him—on his wrists, his ankles, and his exceptionally slender waist. Every part of him was bound to prevent any chance of escape the moment he woke.
Even in a room devoid of light, the gold still emitted a faint, cold glint, making him appear all the more fragile, like a sliver of moonlight that might dissipate at any moment.
A blood-red eye was watching him.
It stared at him unblinkingly, filled with curiosity and greed.
In his chaotic dreams, Jian Zhi felt that gaze. It was forceful, longing, and possessed an overwhelming presence.
Being stared at with such intensity was unpleasant. He wanted to open his eyes, but a violent headache stopped him. His eyelids merely fluttered before he lost his strength again.
Are you awake?
A playful voice sounded in his ear. It was somewhat blurred but quite pleasant to hear.
…
Jian Zhi let out a breath from his throat, a sound so soft it was almost inaudible.
He finally opened his eyes, but he saw nothing.
It was too dark. There wasn’t a single ray of light in the entire space; it was a void of pure black. He couldn’t see his surroundings or his own condition; he only felt an instinctive sense of danger.
Can you turn on the light? It is too dark here.
Jian Zhi quietly curled himself up, trying his best to protect himself. The golden chains clinked against his body. He felt out their shape with his touch, but he wasn’t certain if they were truly chains.
Who are you?
The chains pressed against his skin with a cold touch, like metal just pulled from the shadows, devoid of any warmth.
His fingertips traced along the links. The surface was finely polished and the edges were smooth, ensuring they wouldn’t cut him, yet they carried a distinct weight.
The connections between each link were seamless. When he moved, they made low sounds, sending vibrations through his skin and into his bones.
They weren’t particularly tight, yet they restricted his movements perfectly. With just a bit of force, they would immediately tighten, reminding him that he was being held firmly. The placement of the chains had been deliberately arranged—stable and precise—leaving him almost no room to break free.
Me?
The voice in the darkness laughed, sounding quite cheerful.
You were the one who called for me. You do not know who I am?
I cannot see you, Jian Zhi said. Perhaps if I saw you, I would know.
His voice remained calm throughout, maintaining a soothing steadiness like the tone of a negotiator in a television drama.
No one could tell that his head was currently throbbing with pain, that chaotic memories were flashing back incessantly, or that his limbs felt heavy and his body exhausted, leaving him with almost no ability to move.
Jian Zhi was not an actor, but he had always been good at acting, enough to make the fake seem real.
Turn on the light…
The air became damp, tinged with a salty bitterness, as if an invisible gale had just swept past them, bringing with it the scent of the deep sea.
Is that so?
The moment the words fell, the room was flooded with light!
Blood-red light filled the entire room, coating the jagged rocks on the walls with a dim red hue. Jian Zhi swept a quick glance over them; those rocks were carved with strange, eerie circuits, forming murals he could not understand.
A giant blood-red eye that took up an entire wall stared at him and asked, Or do you prefer it like this?
The light in the room shifted, turning into a dazzling gold.
Everything was glittering with golden light, and the room instantly transformed into a dragon’s treasure hoard.
Uh, Jian Zhi was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Gold is better. Thank you.
The eye turned toward him, facing him directly, and turned itself gold as well.
Within the shimmering golden eye, the pupil was a vertical slit.
It should have been a terrifying sight, but as Jian Zhi studied it, what came to mind was actually a large feline. He didn’t feel afraid; he only thought it was beautiful.
You said I called for you. Did I say what I wanted you to do?
Jian Zhi’s tone was light, as if he were teasing a small animal.
Looking at you like this, you must be some kind of devil character, right?
He toyed with the golden chains on his wrists. They were cold in texture and lustrous in sheen, clinging to his fair skin like winding snakes.
The chains descended from the ceiling, though there was clearly nothing there to hang them from. They seemed to grow out of thin air, locking around his waist and casting a shadow over his white shirt.
You asked me to save you. I have saved you.
The golden eye stared at him and said with great interest:
Now, it is time for you to pay the price.
Dark gray mist drifted out from near the golden eye. In the distorted air, it looked like vines or perhaps tentacles, landing on Jian Zhi’s face and stroking him gently.
Amidst the cold, slimy sensation, the fog in his brain finally cleared.
Jian Zhi remembered.
He had gambled everything to call upon a god.
…
Seven hours ago.
Jian Zhi finished the last class of the semester and walked out of the classroom.
The hallway of the teaching building was long, with windows on one side facing the trees lining the campus road.
The afternoon light slanted in through the glass, cut into irregular shapes by the leaves, falling on the floor tiles in patches of brightness and shadow.
Two students stopped him, saying they had a question they wanted to ask.
Jian Zhi stopped at the classroom door, listening to them call him Professor over and over as he answered their questions while lightly rubbing his temples.
His head had been hurting a lot lately.
With winter break approaching, the temperature in S City had dropped rapidly. Jian Zhi suffered from migraines. He hadn’t been careful recently and caught a chill on his way home from work. His head throbbed all night afterward, and since then, the pain had been intermittent and lingering.
The pain wasn’t sharp; it was more like a dull ache rising slowly from inside his skull, repeatedly grinding against his nerves.
The more he tried to concentrate, the clearer the pain became, as if someone were continuously hammering inside his head.
Occasionally, there would be brief blanks where his vision darkened, followed by the pain returning with a vengeance, forcing him to slow down his thinking.
After seeing off the two students, Jian Zhi went to the hospital.
The MRI had been scheduled half a month ago. Lying inside the scanning bore, Jian Zhi listened to the faint hum of electricity and the ethereal music, gradually losing consciousness.
Five hours ago.
Jian Zhi woke up in the cold. His clothes were cold and damp, clinging to his body and weighing him down.
Many people were shouting around him, their voices excited and sharp like knives.
…Contamination appeared in his jurisdiction, so he should be held responsible. Why show any mercy at a time like this?
True, he doesn’t hold a functional position within the Round Table Council, but rules are rules. Besides, we don’t intend to do much; we just want to put him in solitary confinement for a few days…
At the mention of solitary confinement, a wave of knowing laughter rippled through the crowd.
Ambiguous gazes swept over him, clinging to his body just like his damp clothes, making him feel disgusted.
Lock him in the White Tower? A pretty young master like him probably won’t last three days. Is this that person’s idea?
Mm, hasn’t the First Seat been eyeing him for a long time? The Jian family sent him here with exactly that intention. Otherwise, with their family’s strength, how could they produce three councilors in the Federation?
The voices grew lower, making it hard for Jian Zhi to hear clearly.
From those few scattered words, he realized one thing.
He had transmigrated.
He had transmigrated into an explicit novel.
The protagonist shared his name. Out of curiosity, Jian Zhi had skimmed through the book once.
Ignoring the pornographic scenes that appeared every few pages, the novel’s content was simple to a fault.
The beautiful and prosperous Federation was great in every way, except for the occasional appearance of monsters. To deal with this Contamination, the Federation established the Round Table Council, with members nominated by the major families.
As the underground organization of the Federation Parliament, the Round Table Council specialized in handling abnormal events. It had twelve members, each overseeing a different district.
The protagonist, as the lowest-ranking member of the Round Table Council, was merely a vase inserted to balance the various powers.
He had no say in his own district; everything was decided by his father and older brother. After the incident, he was sent to the top of the White Tower and became the collective plaything of the Round Table Council. This current plot point was him being thrown onto the Judgment Platform—seemingly to be held accountable, but in reality, he was being put on display to be toyed with, for them to enjoy his fear and unease.
Every aggrieved and pitiful expression on that beautiful face acted like an aphrodisiac, stimulating the men’s nerves.
Men dressed in various formal suits, looking exceptionally dignified, were casting covetous glances at the little lamb on the Judgment Platform. Thick private desires were flowing like honeyed syrup.
No one noticed that the person on the Judgment Platform had unknowingly changed the look in his eyes.
It was still the same face, with features as exquisite as God’s most perfect creation. A few stray tears fell from the corners of his slightly downturned eyes. His skin was pale, trembling slightly from hypothermia. But beneath those pitch-black lashes, the pitiful fragility had vanished, replaced by cold rationality.
He remained kneeling on the Judgment Platform, opposite the observation deck, raised above the ground with no obstructions around him.
The platform surface was wide and flat, its edges carved with complex and rigorous patterns. The lines were layered upon each other, resembling some carefully crafted ritual structure.
The people below stood very close.
With just a slight tilt of their heads, they could take in his every expression, yet they maintained a safe and cruel distance that left him unable to touch them or escape.
The marble surface made his knees turn red. Beneath his hunting shorts, the garter belts tightly gripped his thighs, leaving red marks.
His leather boots were too stiff, preventing his feet from resting flat. He had to maintain an awkward posture, which made the presence of the leather straps hanging from his wrists even more intense. The copper buckles were chafing his wrists, bringing a sharp sting of pain.
It was pouring rain.
Raindrops fell continuously like pearls, striking his shoulders and soaking through his clothes.
The smooth marble surface reflected his appearance.
Wretched and miserable. If paired with a helpless gaze, he would surely look delicious.
Unfortunately, there was only cold anger in his eyes.
That anger was like a fire on an ice plain, burning with a blue light, appearing devoid of any warmth.
A bunch of cowards who bully the weak and fear the strong.
Jian Zhi lifted his head. Rainwater slid along his jawline and flowed into the collar of his shirt.
Talking about rules all day long is nothing more than finding a grand excuse to satisfy your own despicable desires.
The voices under the eaves went silent for a moment.
The men who had just been excitedly discussing how best to play with this little lamb shut their mouths. Their eyes watched him with suspicion and disbelief, as if they couldn’t believe such words had come from Jian Zhi’s mouth.
If I am truly guilty, you can let God judge me.
A smile played on Jian Zhi’s lips, but his tone was icy. His wet black hair clung to his face, making his skin look almost transparent, like a glass doll carved from jade.
If I am not guilty…
He tilted his head back, staring at the dark, heavy sky.
A piercing bolt of lightning flashed across the night, its pale light illuminating everything and falling on his face, making his eyes shine with startling brightness.
…Then your rules are the greatest sin.
Jian Zhi sneered and suddenly bit his lip. Crimson blood flowed down his neck, soaking into his shirt and stopping over his heart.
I really hate a world like this.
An indescribable rage surged from his heart, flowing through his limbs along with his blood.
The torrential rain hammered him relentlessly, identical to the rain in his deepest memories. And the sanctimonious faces of these people were also identical to those from that day.
Talking about what is right, what the rules are, what the optimal solution is…
It was all for the sake of private desire.
And he would not make the wrong choice a second time.
I want to re-adjudicate and establish a new order.
Jian Zhi stared at the lightning, watching the dark gray mist behind it, and said word by word:
I am willing to pay the price.
As long as you save me.
In an instant, the wind and rain surged like ocean waves, sweeping across the entire city.
Trees rustled and fell one after another with heavy thuds. Salty rain mixed with the scent of blood crashed into the observation deck, drenching the people under the eaves from head to toe. Their suits and formal wear were soaked through, leaving them looking more wretched than Jian Zhi on the Judgment Platform.
Vines appearing from nowhere swept away Jian Zhi from the Judgment Platform.
The god responded to his call.