CHAPTER 331: A BODY REMADE IN PAIN

A Body Remade in Pain

"FUCK..."

Leon’s voice ripped out from between gritted teeth, harsh and serrated, but with a mulish determination that refused to expire. It was more than a curse—it was a growl, raw and feral, slicing through the stifling air like a knife. His breaths were short and jerky; each exhale spiked with agony. "This pain is way worse than you said, system!"

The following noise wasn’t words—it was a scream. Gravelly. Low. Torn from the bottom of his essence, it burst forth from him like the cry of a dying beast in the midst of slaughter. The horror wasn’t closing in on him—it was already here, tearing him apart from the inside out like a maelstrom of knives and flames. Each beat saw a new onslaught of pain, every pulse another lash from an invisible executioner.

His previously smooth, pale skin—like polished jade—started to change. A dull ember-red fire flared underneath the surface, as if an underground spark had been ignited. The heat rose rapidly, molten gold and crimson deep like liquid metal pouring through his veins. It was as if an inner furnace had been lit within him, burning him up from the inside out.

The light spread, consuming the shadows of the cold stone hall in a feverish blaze. Under his skin, veins emerged in gruesome detail—thick, twisted cords of green, purple, and inflamed red. They squirmed like living things, coiling around his legs, twining up his waist, crawling over his chest and shoulders, curling along his arms, and finally creeping up his neck to his face. Every step they took was another raked claw to the bone.

The pain would not abate. His body convulsed, the veins swelling and thumping like they were alive—until one of them burst.

Burst—burst~!

The sound was wet and wrong. One rupture became two, then three, spreading through him in a chain reaction. It was like something inside him was exploding in slow motion, shredding his own bloodstream from within.

His scream echoed once more, raw and rents. His muscles, once powerful and immovable, started to unravel. Fibers tore, going soft and loose before flowing away from bone like dripping wax. His skin followed, sloughing in greenish sheets to show the exposed, glistening muscle underneath.

It was a horror taken flesh—his body peeled and shattered beneath the onslaught of relentless heat.

Leon’s scream resonated down the hallway, broken and raw. Within, it was as if millions of fine blades were slicing him open one slow stroke at a time, peeling away every defensive layer his body could provide. His nerves blazed in flames as phantom fingers ripped the flesh off in strips.

Heat followed—relentless and unadulterated. It was as if molten metal had been dumped directly into wounds, burning muscle and sinew relentlessly. His jaw clenched, grinding teeth sufficiently to hurt, but spasms still wracked his body.

His mind crept, slow and leaden under the burden of the hurt. There was no space for thought or logic—only the abject need to hold on to awareness, to not fall into the black.

[Host, remain conscious. Don’t get lost.]

[You can’t fall now. Everything falls with you.]

[You’ll die.]

The voice pierced the fog, far away but clear, the sole strand keeping him anchored to the world.

His lips trembled, voice dissolving into delicate shards. "Wh-wh-what... I-I d-do, system? I... I f-feel like I’m d-dying."

[Host, this is important. For the new body to take shape, all of your muscles, all of your fibers of skin, all of your tendons, all of your cells, and even your bones need to be reconstituted. This hurt is the cost. You need to bear it. Do not close your eyes. If you do... it’s over. You’ll die.]

He gripped his fists until his nails dug deep into his palms, his shoulders shuddering as he pushed his spine rigid. Every nerve screamed to buckle—but he did not.

And then the other horror occurred. His hair—thick, flowing hair before—started to float from his scalp in loose wisps, like dead leaves. Raw, pale patches of exposed skin showed below, slick with blood and sweat. His scalp glowed in the dim light, vulnerable and pale.

His skin relaxed, hanging in a grotesque sag, adhering only in tenuous strands. Then it started to peel off—wet, disgusting—like rotten silk sliding off a dead body. Peel after peel, it fell, sticking for an instant before ripping loose, with nothing remaining but the reddened, beating muscle.

The hallway stank of copper and rot. It was an obscene thing to see—flesh unwinding itself in slow, deliberate destruction. Each piece of skin that landed on the cold floor reminded itself that this was no dream, no fantasy.

Leon’s howl ripped through the air once more, deeper now—animal, despairing, ringing out until it sounded as though the stone walls hummed. His throat seared with each cry, but the pain only motivated him to bellow louder. His eyelids started to droop, heavy, willing to give up—

[Host. No. Don’t give up now. Think of your wives—wait for them. Bear this agony for them. This new body will make you stronger. You’ll be guarding what you love. Bear it.]

The voice of the system echoed in Leon’s mind, constant but insistent, a rope in the midst of the tempest. His jaw clenched until it was sore, grinding his teeth as he rammed the order into his heart. A weird jolt ran through him—tenuous, nearly ephemeral, but intense enough to ignite a spark of hope in the darkness of suffering. But the pain still held him, searing through all his nerves, refusing to relinquish its hold.

He clamped down harder, all the muscles in his jaw shaking, as if the mere act could hold him fast. Skin peeled away in layers, peeling from him in great flapping sheets. It was a wet sound, the feel of it maddening, until each strip landed on the stone floor with a soft, sickening slap. There was nothing left in the end to shield him—just raw muscle, red and shining, quivering with infinite pain.

His body had become something unrecognizable, stripped of humanity, a grotesque sculpture of exposed sinew. To see him now was to witness the aftermath of death itself—an image that would drive most to look away in horror. Yet he still drew breath. Somehow, he stayed tethered to life, even as the pain sought to drag him under.

The agony increased. His muscles started to atrophy, ripping loose in great shuddering chunks. Each chunk dropped beside him, jerking once before becoming motionless, spreading in dark puddles on the chilly floor.

Thump~!