Chapter 82: The Big Dog
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
In a dim, shadowy cellar, Gao Ming chose to stay, resolved to care for a sick woman who relied heavily on him. Over time, he adapted to the gloom, his surroundings becoming more and more perceptible and tangible to him.
Although he was still blind and deaf, his heart felt somewhat lighter. The fear that once dominated him had now receded, even in the face of his sensory limitations.
The cellar’s stagnant, unpleasant smell grew stronger with time. The woman, frail and confined to her bed, depended entirely on Gao Ming for support and care.
Gao Ming’s only concern was to be there for her in her last moments, but he started noticing strange occurrences: objects in the cellar were moved, and their woven bamboo mat had vanished.
He realized they weren’t alone; other people were hiding in the cellar too.
Remaining alert, Gao Ming eventually caught a child by the arm, only to be overpowered and knocked down by a group of children.
“Are these village children causing trouble?” he wondered, trying to chase them. He ran blindly, guided only by his senses, but collided head-first into the stone wall of the cellar.
Near the exit, he sensed the outside world beckoning — the sound of rain and a faint light in the darkness. For someone trapped in such darkness and silence, the sight of an exit would feel like a lifeline, much like a desert traveler finding water after days of thirst.
Drawn unconsciously towards the exit, Gao Ming suddenly smelled something burning. A fire had started behind him, and smoke was quickly filling the space.
“There’s someone still in the cellar, the person who saved me,” he thought.
Faced with a critical choice between escape and saving the person inside, Gao Ming turned back. He had to rely solely on his sense of smell to find the person, as the thickening smoke obscured all else.
He raced back into the smoke-filled darkness, trying to make noise to warn of the danger, though he wasn’t sure if he could be heard. The fire might have been an accident, or perhaps it was caused by the children.
The fire spread rapidly, and Gao Ming felt the heat and pain of burning objects as he searched blindly, smelling the sickening scent of his own burning flesh.
He still had a chance to escape, but he chose not to. The sound of rain outside seemed to urge him to flee, but he resisted.
A burning stick fell onto his shoe, and the cellar seemed on the verge of collapse. Gao Ming couldn’t imagine how a blind person could navigate such peril.
“Don’t panic, stay calm,” he told himself, his resolve hardened by his brushes with death.
Remembering the layout of the cellar and the woman’s last known location, he pushed through the smoke and fear.
Debris fell around him, but he persisted until he finally felt a familiar hand amid the flames.
“I found her!” he inwardly exclaimed, picking up the woman and moving towards the sound of rain.
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
As he made his decision and moved towards the exit, his senses began to clear, as if everything he had lost was slowly returning.
“This must be the way to pass this level!” he thought.
Approaching the exit, his senses sharpened, but the scent behind him faded.
“Why is her scent disappearing, even though I’m carrying her out?” he wondered, climbing the wooden ladder to the cellar entrance. As he emerged, the odor vanished completely.
At that moment, his vision and hearing returned. Looking down, he realized he was holding a small bamboo figurine instead of a woman.
A chill ran down his spine, but before he could process this shock, he saw something more terrifying.
A massive, pitch-black dog crouched at the cellar exit, its mouth wide enough to swallow a person, revealing sharp fangs. Inside its throat, shockingly, was a human head!
The head’s eyes were white and cloudy, its ears charred — it bore a striking resemblance to the blind madman rumored to have died in the dog cellar case.
The dog’s gaping mouth was pointed towards the exit. If Gao Ming hadn’t regained his sight and hearing, he might have walked straight into its jaws.
Holding onto the ladder tightly, Gao Ming faced the human head in the dog’s mouth, offering the bamboo figurine. “I saved her.”
After a long silence, the dog closed its mouth, its deep voice resonating, “What you saved was yourself.”
“Was that experience your memory?” Gao Ming asked, realizing that the blind madman, through the shadow world, had transformed into this creature. Its presence was more unsettling than any neighbor in the Sishui Apartment.
“The cellar is my home, my memories,” the dog spoke without moving its lips. “I’ve always lived in silence and darkness. You entered my home with your own agenda, so you became like me.”
“I came here to find a friend named Wei Dayou. He’s not the brightest, but he’s incredibly kind-hearted.” Gao Ming lifted the bamboo figurine. “I’m someone who repays kindness.”
“You may emerge first.” The enormous dog shifted aside, allowing Gao Ming to climb out of the cellar. Before him sprawled a village and city shrouded in shadows.
“Is losing your hearing and sight as terrifying as it seems?”
“Every moment was a struggle. I’ve been like this since birth,” the dog shared, sitting near the cellar exit. “I vaguely remember being sold by a couple smelling of flowers. They weren’t my parents. From a young age, I was used for begging since my condition evoked sympathy from others. Then, I met ‘mom,’ who taught me how to be human.”
The dog gently touched the bamboo figurine without harming it.
“When ‘mom’ died, everything changed. Distant relatives took her home and forced me into this cellar. From then on, I’ve been living there for a long time, losing track of the days and night. Then one rainy day, someone started a fire near the cellar. I tried to stop it but was pushed down a slope. Injured and bleeding from the head, I hoped for rescue and waved my arms frantically for help, but no one did. When I awoke again later, it was from the pain of people beating me. They never saw me as human…”
The dog recounted its past with detachment.
Piecing together the blind madman’s account, Gao Ming theorized about the dog cellar case: the village children probably pushed the blind man down the hill, thinking he was dead. Then they told the adults, who then killed him and spread the story of a lunatic abducting children.
“Are those who twisted the truth still around? Would you like me to find them?” Gao Ming asked, touching the dog’s fur. “I’m a horror game designer; I can create a game to help you step out of the shadows.”
“No need, I hold no grudges,” the dog replied.
“Why then imprison others in the cellar, making them suffer as you did?” Gao Ming asked, offering to talk as a psychological counselor for repeat offenders. “I can help heal your heart’s wounds.”
The dog, reflecting Gao Ming’s face in its dark eyes, found him unusual, seemingly a man on a quest for purpose.