Chapter 122: The Abyss of Human Hearts

Shingin had barely taken a few steps when a heavy footstep sounded behind him, accompanied by an enraged roar. Before he could react, a pair of iron-like hands clamped down on his shoulders and yanked him back with an overwhelming force.

"Running away? Demons like you deserve to die right here!"

Turning around, Shingin saw a burly man with a scruffy beard, his muscular arms covered in scars. His gaze was filled with hatred, locking onto Shingin as though he were prey.

Shingin struggled to break free, but the iron grip only tightened. He felt the bones in his shoulder nearly shatter under the crushing force, cold sweat dripping from his brow as he bit back the pain.

"Let me go! You've got it wrong—I'm not a demon!" Shingin roared through gritted teeth, trying desperately to explain.

But the man ignored his words, quickly binding Shingin's arms with a thick rope. Seeing the demon subdued, the surrounding civilians cheered, as if hope had suddenly returned to them.

"Admit it! You destroyed your school, didn't you?"

"Kill him! Avenge our dead loved ones!"

Gritting his teeth, Shingin felt fresh blood seeping from his wounds as he struggled, but his anger far outweighed the pain. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to summon the power of the alien soul to fight back. Yet just as he was about to release his strength, he noticed something in the faces of the people around him.

Those faces, which should have been brimming with hatred, now revealed something else—a deep, primal fear.

Their eyes no longer simply reflected loathing but also sheer terror. Some women instinctively clutched their children and took a step back.

Shingin's heart sank.

"No… If I use my power now, they'll truly believe I'm a demon."

He clenched his jaw, veins bulging on his forehead, and forcefully suppressed the surge of energy within him. He knew that any sign of resistance would completely unhinge these terrified people.

The burly man, seeing Shingin stop struggling, scoffed and pushed him to the ground, pressing a knee hard into his back.

"Hah! Why aren't you fighting back now? Where's all that destructive, murderous power you used before?"

Lying on the ground, Shingin gritted his teeth and struggled to control his emotions. He knew that nothing he said would make a difference.

"I didn't hurt any of you… You've got it wrong…" he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion and helplessness.

But the people around him weren't listening. The angry crowd swelled in number, closing in on him. Stones, cans, and sticks in their hands hovered on the verge of action.

"Enough!" the burly man bellowed, silencing the mob on the verge of chaos. With a forceful grip, he hoisted Shingin up and locked eyes with him, his voice sharp with anger.

"Listen up! No matter what you say, you can't bring back the dead! Tonight, you'll pay for your crimes!"

Shingin fell silent, his chest heaving as pain and conflict flickered in his eyes. He wasn't afraid of their threats, but he was drowning in guilt and despair. He understood that no matter how he defended himself, they would never believe him.

Closing his eyes, he said softly, "If my death will give you peace, then do it."

His calm response caught the burly man off guard. He hesitated for a moment, and the crowd, too, faltered in their anger at Shingin's unexpected resignation.

The gathering began to divide into two factions. Some insisted Shingin should be executed immediately to avenge their loved ones, while others believed he might still have some value alive.

"We can't kill him so easily!" A middle-aged man emerged from the crowd, his face shadowed and stern, his voice low but commanding enough to cut through the clamor.

"He's a demon—that's undeniable," the man said, scanning the crowd with a piercing gaze that seemed to see through their hearts. "But have you considered that the true demon might still be lurking in the shadows? Instead of killing him now, why not keep him as bait to lure the others out?"

His words were like a stone tossed into a still pond, sending ripples of thought through the mob. Those who had been shouting moments ago now paused, their eyes shifting to the subdued Shingin, their emotions a mixture of hate and hesitation.

"That's true… He's a powerful demon," murmured a young man, doubt creeping into his tone. "He might really attract other monsters."

"But what if he turns on us?" another asked nervously.

"Keeping him alive…" someone else suggested tentatively, "might be more valuable than killing him outright."

The crowd's noise grew louder as the debate intensified, teetering on the edge of chaos. The burly man remained silent, his hands pressing firmly on Shingin as his gaze flickered with uncertainty. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and commanding:

"Fine," he said slowly, each word deliberate. "Tie him up tighter. If anyone tries anything foolish, they'll answer to me."

The atmosphere froze for a moment. People exchanged uncertain glances before silently complying. Thick ropes were quickly brought forward and wrapped around Shingin's limbs and torso, binding him tightly.

Shingin didn't resist. His cheek pressed against the rough ground, his wounds stinging as if they were a dull echo of the cold stares piercing him from all directions. Hatred and fear filled the eyes of those around him, stabbing into his heart like needles.

He closed his eyes, shutting out the cacophony of voices and footsteps around him. A faint, bitter smile crept onto his face, carrying a heavy sense of helplessness.