The domestic respite within the Denbergh household felt increasingly like a fragile, translucent bubble, one that could be burst by the slightest tremor of the reality outside.
After Ronald had firmly instructed Yuxuan to return home, the days settled into a strange, repetitive cadence.
Yuxuan found himself performing the mundane duties of the house, assisting Ronald’s mother with cleaning and the preparation of their daily meals.
It was a period of enforced stillness, a slow-burn stretch of time where the secrets of the Suiban Organization and the looming threat of Hullsperk’s unseen entities were temporarily tucked away beneath the surface of domestic chores.
On one particular evening, as the shadows lengthened across the walls at 7:59 PM, Ronald returned from his duties at the police station to find the house filled with a scent he had never encountered before—an aromatic, delicious fragrance that tugged at his senses.
Driven by curiosity and a sudden, sharp hunger, he hurried into the kitchen.
There, he discovered Yuxuan standing before the stove, focused intently on a culinary creation.
Ronald’s mother sat nearby on a stool, her expression a mix of bewilderment and wonder as she observed Yuxuan preparing what he described as ‘curry rice’.
“Oh, you’ve returned,” his mother remarked, noting Ronald’s arrival with a sense of astonishment.
“Yuxuan is preparing something quite unique.
He calls it ‘curry rice'”.
Ronald stared, baffled by the revelation that Yuxuan possessed such domestic skills.
“He knows how to cook?
And what exactly is ‘curry rice’?” he asked.
Yuxuan, his demeanor calm and detached as always, explained the process—a simple combination of vegetables, primarily potatoes and carrots, combined with rice he had procured from the market only two hours prior.
The meal, when finally served, was a triumph that exceeded all their expectations.
As Ronald and his mother took their first spoonfuls, their eyes widened in genuine surprise at the depth of the flavors.
“Wow!
You must teach me tomorrow,” Ronald’s mother pleaded, eager to learn the technique.
“I would love to eat this again!” Ronald added, offering his own heartfelt praise.
Yuxuan offered only a cold, noncommittal reply, his focus shifting almost immediately to the task of cleaning his plate.
Before the others had even finished their first bowl, Yuxuan had cleared his space and moved to the sink, leaving both family members stunned by his swiftness.
The following day—Halo Day, the 21st of Dabury, 29685 KC—the reality of their circumstances returned with the morning coffee.
Yuxuan informed Ronald of his decision to seek employment, reiterating his desire to find work on his own terms.
While Ronald agreed, the underlying tension remained; the world outside the Denbergh home was not one where a young man could simply drift into a peaceful profession.
To avoid the persistent and intrusive presence of Mr.
Pincher, the two men opted to travel to the Hullsperk City Police Station by horse-drawn cart.
The journey took exactly seven minutes, the rhythmic clanging of the horse’s harness providing a dull, mechanical accompaniment to the silence between them.
Once they arrived at the station, they paid the driver and left the cart, the heavy, metallic sound of the road receding as they neared the massive police facility.
The Hullsperk City Police Station was a monolith of cold, authoritarian architecture.
At the entrance, two guards dressed in black stood vigil, clutching their rifles with practiced indifference.
Ronald turned to Yuxuan, gesturing toward the surrounding streets.
“Okay, now you can go find a job,” he said, before entering the station, where the guards met him with sharp, rhythmic salutes against their chests.
Yuxuan stood alone for a moment, then turned his gaze toward the distant, hidden location of the Suiban H.Q.
I’ve been lying so much since I came into this world, he thought, the weight of his duplicity pressing heavier with every step he took through the city’s labyrinthine passages.
Perhaps it was the weight of his thoughts, or perhaps it was the city itself, pulling him toward a destiny he hadn’t chosen, but Yuxuan lost his way.
He found himself wandering into a ruined, desolate sector of Hullsperk—a place where the buildings looked as though they had been clawed open by some prehistoric, industrial beast.
He walked for three minutes, the silence of the ruins growing more profound, until he reached a site that turned his blood to ice. This story is hosted at g.com.
Hidden behind the skeletal remains of an old building, Yuxuan witnessed a scene of absolute, calculated horror.
A large, concrete stage stood in the center of the clearing, surrounded by a group of men cloaked in deep, oppressive purple.
Their skin was unnaturally faint, as if they had been bled of all vitality.
At the center of this stage, a man stood wearing a skull mask, his grip tight on a razor-sharp saber.
Before him, a woman lay bound upon a strange, pulsating gelatinous machine.
Her hands were tied behind her, her eyes covered with a thick black cloth, and she screamed into the emptiness of the ruins—a sound of raw, desperate terror that went unanswered by the desolate city.
Yuxuan watched, paralyzed by the sheer, horrific clinical nature of the event.
There were no saws, no elaborate torture—only the skull-masked man and his saber.
Thwack!
The blade descended in a single, fluid motion, slicing through the air and ending the screams with finality.
The execution was swift, brutal, and entirely systematic.
As the body lay still, the man who had performed the slaughter shouted into the stillness, “The Caravan of Execution is accomplished for this month!”.
Yuxuan, his presence unknown to the purple-cloaked men, quietly retreated back toward his original path.
The words burned in his mind, echoing against the cold stones of Hullsperk: Caravan of Execution.
It was not an isolated incident; it was a schedule—a grim, monthly necessity that the city demanded.
As he walked away, Yuxuan realized the true, darkened nature of the world he had entered—a place where the shadows weren’t just hiding horrors, but performing them on a calendar.
He had come seeking a job, but he had found something far more dangerous: the truth of the city’s hidden machinery, and the terrifying price it exacted from those who were unlucky enough to exist within its reach.