Chapter 2 Turning Guests into Hosts_1

"You...you're hitting me again?"

Chen Yang was nearly sobbing, these sixteen hours of beatings were more than all the chastising he had received in his twenty-plus years of life.

"Did you really think I wanted to be a parasite in such a lowly, ugly, tiny being like yourself?"

After the Right Hand slapped Chen Yang, it dropped a sentence, but did not answer Chen Yang's question.

"Then, when will you leave..."

After asking this, Chen Yang quickly covered his face with his left hand, nervously bracing himself for another slap.

Unexpectedly, the Right Hand did not hit him.

"I'll naturally leave when I've achieved my purpose."

The Right Hand gave him a cold look. What struck him as odd was that the Right Hand, despite not having eyes, was able to send a chill down his spine.

As fear began to rise within him, Chen Yang kept his head down and, in a surge of final bit of courage, asked: "What's your purpose? I...I mean, if you tell me, I'll do my utmost to help you achieve it."

"There's no need, I don't care about your feelings. All you need to do is follow my orders."

The Right Hand, treating him as if he were a mere bug, was growing impatient. "Human, shut your filthy mouth. For the next hour, no talking, no moving."

Chen Yang instantly shut his mouth, displaying more obedience than he ever had when listening to his parents. If his parents saw this scene, they would surely regret not being stricter with him in his youth.

Chen Yang began watching the news, the first time he had ever done so "seriously". However, old habits die hard, and after about ten minutes, whatever was being broadcast was going in one ear and out the other. His eyes lost focus, bearing a resemblance to a meditating monk.

As the old folks often say, young ones these days are restless and lack patience. Regarding Chen Yang, this couldn't have been truer. Like a child that never grew up, his interest in anything would fade after a mere five minutes if it did not entertain him and he'd give up soon after.

This attitude even affected his social life to the point of frustration. Waiting for a friend at a meal for just a minute or two felt like torturous unending eternity. His impatience led to frequent anger outbursts, to the extent his friends were inclined to keep him at arm's length due to his unusual behavior, which ultimately diluted their relationships.

People with obsessive-compulsive disorder, like Chen Yang, knew all too well that they couldn't control themselves despite being aware that their actions were wrong. Even sitting still for a moment would make them restless and agitated, unable to handle their impatience.

However, at this very moment, if any of Chen Yang's friends were present, they would find it hard to believe their eyes. The Chen Yang, who couldn't sit still for even a few moments, was surprisingly sitting properly for tens of minutes. More frighteningly, his posture was more upright than that of a soldier. He didn't move an inch throughout those minutes.

An hour later, Chen Yang, soaked in cold sweat, finally heard the Right Hand's command: "Turn off the TV."

Like a weight lifted off his shoulders, Chen Yang rose, nearly stumbling. Rubbing his numbing leg with his left hand, he hurriedly used the remote to turn off the television as fast as he could.

"Next, turn on the computer."

Turn on the computer?

A bit puzzled, Chen Yang, under the compulsion of not daring to disobey the order, went into his room to open the computer.

The computer slowly booted up, with the classic XP image slowly appearing on the screen.

"Too slow, too slow..."

The Right Hand voiced its impatience, staring at the screen, its pinkie suddenly stretching out by a meter to control the mouse and its movement.

Seeing such a bizarre scene, Chen Yang became pale with fright. Being spectators to such a horrifying sight would terrify anyone, not just Chen Yang.

Finally, the old computer booted up and the Right Hand, controlling the mouse, started browsing the internet.

"Please, may I ask, what do...what do you plan to do?"

Using a tone of flattery, Chen Yang cautiously asked.

"Shut your mouth."

Without answering Chen Yang's question, the Right Hand continued to browse for the information it needed.

Chen Yang could only try to figure out the plan of this unknown creature from the screen, but he was left at a loss for words because under the Right Hand's control, the speed at which the pages were being browsed was far beyond what a human eye could keep up with. Chen Yang barely glimpsed the first few words before the entire page had been closed.

Within a span of just a few seconds, several pages were switching back-and-forth incessantly until finally, Chen Yang's old, dilapidated computer froze and crashed.

Just you watch. You reap what you sow.

As a smidgen of schadenfreude arose within him, Chen Yang's expression abruptly transformed. He let out a horrific scream as a wave of intense pain surged from deep within him, causing his breath to hitch. Only a few seconds of pain felt as though he was undergoing torment akin to the sufferings of hell. Sweating profusely, he couldn't help but start to vomit.

"Remember, human, I can feel your emotions too, don't think for a moment I don't know what you're thinking."

Right Hand reached out, disdainfully watching Chen Yang heave, and stated, "If you dare disrespect me again, next time, the lesson would extend from moments to ten full seconds."

Chen Yang was utterly terrified. He had thought that a slap to the face, a punch to the stomach were severe punishments; yet when he had experienced the sharp pain moments ago, he finally understood. This kind of direct stimulation to the pain receptor nerves was even worse than death by a thousand cuts.

"Alright, grab your keys and debit card, and let's get out."

Chen Yang, numb from the ordeal, staggered to his feet, not even bothering to clean up his vomit. He obediently picked up his keys and debit card, and made his way to the exit.

"Bang."

Shutting the door behind him, Chen Yang walked out of the small building.

Despite it being well into the afternoon, the relentless sun was still blinding. He had a blank expression, his face pale like the walking dead. He seemed slightly dazed upon seeing the sunlight outside.

"Huh?"

When Chen Yang was in a daze, his right hand abruptly reached out and, by an incredible stroke of luck, caught a small flower pot.

What... What just happened?

Chen Yang, looking at the flower pot that had just fallen from above, turned more pale. If his right hand hadn't suddenly moved to catch the flower pot, his head would likely have cracked open by now.

"Clank... "

His right hand casually tossed the flower pot onto the ground, causing it to shatter into pieces, dirt and flowers scattered everywhere.

"Ah, I'm... I'm sorry."

From above, a soft female voice echoed, Chen Yang looked up and saw a woman living on the second floor. He remembered her name was Xiao Rui, she had been living there for less than a month.

Upon seeing her carelessness almost resulting in the flowerpot striking the landlord's head, Xiao Rui panicked and quickly walked downstairs to apologize. But when she arrived at the entrance, except for the shattered flower pot and soil, the landlord had already disappeared.

Chen Yang, who, a day before would have certainly lectured others in such situations, did not have the time or energy to do so today. Under the command of the Right Hand, he relentlessly continued towards his destination with no time to delay.

"Human, pay attention. If this happens one more time, you'll end up with a flower pot on your head."

The voice traveled directly to Chen Yang's eardrum via his muscle and bone structure. To outsiders, Chen Yang only appeared to turn paler and trembled slightly, but they heard no odd sounds.

The intense afternoon sun brought unbearable heat, making people want to strip physically and mentally. Walking under the sun, Chen Yang did not feel warm. Instead, he felt an inexplicable chill, a cold sensation radiating from his heart which even the scorching sun could not dispel. It continued to accumulate, making him feel even colder.

It wasn't until Chen Yang felt chilled to his very core that he finally looked at his destination. Despite walking for nearly twenty minutes in the heat, he hadn't broken a sweat.

It was an Industrial and Commercial Bank branch.

A very ordinary bank, no different from most banks in China. Chen Yang showed no interest. He walked into the banking hall, took a number, and sat waiting.

There weren't many people at the bank in the afternoon; it wasn't long before it was Chen Yang's turn. He felt his pocket, took out his bank card, and walked up to the counter. "Withdraw ten thousand yuan."

Ten thousand yuan. Damn it, his entire savings were only a little over thirty thousand yuan. Withdraw ten thousand in one go made his heart ache. However, he dared not resist. This was Right Hand's command.

After entering his pin code and receiving a stack of money from the bank clerk, Chen Yang was somewhat bewildered, wondering why the Right Hand wanted him to withdraw ten thousand yuan.

He had no right to know.

In retrospect, he had never held ten thousand yuan in cash all at once. In the past, he would have thought that ten thousand yuan was a lot, but holding it in his hand now, he realized that it wasn't that much — just a small stack. Chen Yang felt dissatisfied; he felt that even ten more stacks wouldn't be enough.