From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL)-Chapter 87: The Seraph’s Verdict

Two voices shouted in unison.

But Sian remained unfazed.

Without hesitation, he caught the man’s wrist mid-strike. In a swift motion, he raised his leg, unsheathed a black dagger, and slashed at the man’s arms.

The wounds were clean and precise—deep enough to incapacitate but not fatal.

Sian was furious.

Furious that he had been forced to deal with such filth again.

Furious at the killer’s words. At his behavior of taking humans, Solus is nothing.

Furious for the countless lives stolen in the most gruesome, horrifying ways.

Furious that someone like this had been allowed to roam free, reveling in their crimes without consequence.

His rage burned through him like an unquenchable fire.

A raging fire that would never be extinguished unless he did something about it.

The man collapsed to the ground, clutching his wounded arms, rolling in agony.

Then, Sian spoke.

His voice was soft—so soft it was almost a whisper.

Yet, it was more terrifying than any scream.

And somehow, it was not only the murderer who felt fear.

The other two, standing in the background, shivered as well.

"You said you love it, didn’t you?"

Sian smiled, sweet and innocent.

Then, he crouched down, reaching for a long, green leaf on the ground.

"Since you love it so much... let me give it to you."

"Huh?"

The man froze at Sian’s words.

A terrible premonition clawed at his gut.

Something inside him whispered that it was over.

Jiāo Liàngchén and Wan Wan watched as Sian brought the leaf to his lips...

When he heard Sian’s words he thought that Sian was about to flay the man’s face himself.

Jiao Liangchen took a step closer to Sian, intending to stop him. Not out of refusal or pity for the man, but because—for some reason—when he imagined Sian grabbing the man’s face and flaying him, the image of those beautiful, delicate jade-like hands being stained with blood unsettled him.

And then, when he saw the obsessed look in the man’s eyes as he salivated over Sian, a deep sense of rejection took root within Jiao Liangchen.

Suddenly, a thought cemented itself in his mind—Sian was the purest existence, the best person in the world. He couldn’t allow him to be tainted by something so filthy, so repulsive.

But before he could take another step to stop him, he was struck with shock.

Sian knelt down.

Instead of striking the man, he picked up a large green leaf from the ground.

A massive question mark might as well have hovered over Jiao Liangchen’s head.

What was Sian doing?

Then, he finally remembered—the video. The moment Sian had clashed with the wolves in the forest.

Jiao Liangchen’s heart pounded wildly.

Why?

Because he was excited.

Excited to witness Sian’s power.

Excited to witness Sian’s miracle.

Excited to witness the punishment Sian was about to deliver upon this murderer—a punishment he so rightfully deserved.

And so, Jiao Liangchen took a step back, adopting the stance of a spectator. He crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes gleaming under the moonlight. Within their depths lay a multitude of emotions, layered and unfathomable—secrets known only to their owner.

Sian blew into the leaf.

A sharp, eerie melody filled the air.

Unlike the tune he had played last time l, this one was unsettling—haunting. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

At first, nothing happened.

Then

Movement...

Glinting under the moonlight, small shapes began scurrying from the ground toward the fallen man.

Frozen in horror, he watched them approach.

They were...

Insects.

Dozens!

Hundreds!

Thousands!

Different in size and species, yet moving with perfect coordination.

By nature, many of these creatures were predators to one another.

Yet, tonight, they had only one target.

The man tried to move—to escape.

But something coiled around his leg.

When he looked down, his breath hitched.

Snakes.

Their sharp eyes locked onto him with deadly intent.

Before he could react, their fangs sank into his flesh.

The venom wasn’t lethal.

But it was enough to paralyze him.

As the haunting melody continued, the swarm reached their destination.

His face.

And then—

They attacked.

Biting...

Tearing...

Burrowing...

Among them were sand fleas, ticks, bullet ants, scorpions, and huntsman spiders—each utilizing their unique, deadly weapons.

Fangs...

Mandibles...

Stingers...

Claws...

Skin split open, revealing the bone beneath the rivers of blood.

It was a gruesome, nightmarish sight—like divine punishment descending upon the wicked.

The man’s screams were ear-piercing as if he were experiencing the depths of hell itself—which, in truth, he was.

Between his agonized wails and desperate pleas for mercy, he gasped out in broken, frantic words:

"You... you can’t kill me... This is illegal... Stop them! Make them stop—AAAH! It hurts, it hurts so much... Mother... Mother!"

Sian didn’t so much as blink at the horrific sight before him, nor did he flinch at the man’s words, his pleas, or his threats. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle at the irony. He then ceased his humming, but the torment did not stop.

Still kneeling in his previous position, Sian lifted the leaf from his lips and spoke in a slow, lilting tone:

"Oh? So now you understand that killing is illegal? Does it hurt? Does it hurt so much that you’d rather die?"

"Y-yes... Yes! Stop it, or just kill me already—please!"

"I bet your victims said the same thing, didn’t they?" Sian mused, his voice as sweet as honey, yet his words venomous like the sting of a deadly wasp.

And he was right.

Wan Wan, who had been trembling at the gruesome scene before her, suddenly recalled her own suffering. Silent tears streamed down her face. Yet, as she watched the man writhe in the dirt, begging for mercy just as she once had, the fear gripping her heart began to loosen. Instead, she felt the faintest sense of relief.

Meanwhile, Jiao Liangchen observed the delicate, slender figure of the young man kneeling there, calmly conversing with his victim. In those glassy amber eyes, he saw sorrow

and compassion.

But it was not pity for the wretched man before him. No—Sian’s sympathy was for the souls who had been slaughtered, those who had suffered unspeakable torment, those who had begged for death and never found it.

Jiao Liangchen couldn’t help but wonder—how could someone be this kind? To grieve, to avenge, to carry the weight of justice for people he had never even met?

For the first time, Jiao Liangchen found himself understanding why that man had once called Sian an angel.

Sian was an Angel.