Chapter 3 — Becoming One with the Devil

The checkered guy pushed his glasses, "The whole family is a monster. Did that child... accidentally activate some mechanism?" "What mechanism allows it to be embraced by monsters?" The leather jacket guy sneered, "Didn't you guys hear what that bitch said?"

'Don't kill me, mother is stewing soup in the pot'.

The meaning is so clear, now it's 'temporarily raised', wait until it grows a little more and then 'stew'.” The ponytail girl's face was pale: "You mean... that child is also considered food, but now it's too small so we should keep it temporarily?" "But what else?" The leather jacket guy glanced at her, "Do you think the monsters really think it's a girl?" No one responded. But everyone knew the leather jacket guy had a point. That newborn baby only survived temporarily, waiting until the monsters saw "enough to stew in one pot", its ending would be no different from the pile of internal organs on the sofa. "So we..." The short, chubby man gulped, "Let it go?" The leather jacket guy didn't say anything, turned around and started observing the layout of the house. The ponytail girl hesitated for a moment, but eventually followed the others. Just ignore it. In a place like this, I'm lucky to be able to keep my life. Lam Niem dreamed a dream. In the dream, the little girl lay in a warm embrace, someone patted her back, humming a song with an unknown tune. The sound was low and vague, like the sound of wind blowing from a far away place. The girl turned over, burying her face in that warmth, her saliva smeared on her sleeve. Then the girl woke up. Opening his eyes, what he saw was an enlarged face. Gray eyes were staring at her. Lam Niem blinked. The young man also blinked. Lam Niem grinned, revealing two tiny baby teeth that had just sprouted. The teenager looked at the girl expressionlessly. Lam Niem reached out to grab his face, her two small hands scratching wildly in the air. The teenager dodged, but could not escape. Lam Niem's hands were so small, the target was tiny, he couldn't guess where she was going to shoot. Finally, with a loud smack, the small hand hit him directly on the nose. Teenager: “…” Lam Niem chuckled. The door was opened a small crack, a woman in a floral dress poked her head in: "A Trach, dinner is finished, come out and eat." She saw the scene on the bed: The teenager was lying on his side, Lam Niem was lying face down on his chest, using saliva to wash his shirt. The woman paused for a moment. "Why is it... awake?" The teenager did not answer. The woman stepped forward and bent down to look at Lam Niem. Lam Niem recognized her, immediately stretched out her arms to hold her: "Ma—— ma——" The corner of her mouth twitched: "Who is your mother?" Even so, she still reached out and lifted Lam Niem from the teenager's body. Lam Niem was floating in mid-air, his arms and legs flailing wildly, his mouth emitting squealing sounds. The woman lifted the girl up to eye level: "You're quite good at screaming, what are you screaming for? Let's scream some more?" “Ma——” The woman was silent. His erect pupils blinked slightly, not knowing what he was thinking. A moment later, she put Lam Niem down and hugged her, her movements a little gentler than before. "Okay, let's eat." She raised her chin at the teenager, "Wake up, stop lying there." The teenager sat up from the bed and followed her out. Coming to the living room, the other eight people were sitting around the dining table. The food on the table is very sumptuous: braised pork, stir-fried ribs sweet and sour, stir-fried vegetables, and a big bowl of steaming soup. The fragrance spreads throughout the house. But no one dared to move their chopsticks. The eight players sat stiffly in their chairs, staring at the bowl in front of them, not moving. Because that bowl of soup is red. Not the red of tomato soup, but the bright red of fresh blood. On the surface of the soup were floating a few pieces of something unknown, resembling meat but not like meat. The woman carried Lam Niem over, sat down in the chair's position, smiled and invited: "Eat, why are you all standing there? Don't be polite, just make yourself at home." The players looked at each other. The guy in the checkered shirt gritted his teeth, picked up a piece of green vegetable, put it in his mouth, chewed it... Luckily, it was a normal vegetable. He breathed a sigh of relief and swallowed. The others saw that and started to move their chopsticks. But no one touched that bowl of soup. The woman didn't care, scooped herself a bowl, and leisurely drank. Lam Niem sat on her lap, looked up and down for a while, then started to scratch things on the table. He couldn't reach it, so he had to scratch the air. The woman lowered her head to look at the girl, used the tip of her chopsticks to dip a little broth, and brought it to the girl's mouth. Lam Niem stuck out her tiny tongue and licked. There's no taste. The girl licked it again, still without taste. The woman withdrew her chopsticks and drank the soup herself. Lam Niem stared at her bowl for half a day, then lowered his head and began to nibble on his own fingers. The young man sat opposite the woman, bowed his head, and ate without saying a word. But from beginning to end, his sight never left the other eight players. After the meal, the woman carried Lam Niem and sat outside in the living room for a while. The eight players were spread out in all corners of the house, some pretending to visit, some squatting in the corner whispering about something. They did not dare to be too close to the woman, and they did not dare to be too far away from her, for fear of triggering some death mechanism. Lam Niem is absolutely not interested in these things. The little girl snuggled in the woman's arms, comfortably yawned loudly, her eyelids began to fight. The woman looked down at the girl and suddenly said: "What is your name?" Lam Niem vaguely heard the sound, opened his eyes, facing those vertical pupils. "Hey——" The girl replied. Woman: “…” “Hey——” “Stop it, go to sleep.” The woman hugged the girl a little tighter, gently patting her back. Lam Niem feels that this embrace is very warm. Much warmer than a bed in an orphanage.