He had been in this other world for five years now. Looking back on everything he’d been through, if he could only use the word ‘harsh’ to describe it, then 996 would honestly feel like a blessing!

Vera Smith tried to comfort him awkwardly, “There are only two enchanters in White Stone Castle, just the two of us. As long as we work hard, the master definitely won’t abandon us. Logan Bennett, your intelligence is a hundred times greater than mine. If you could better control your emotions, the master certainly wouldn’t be stingy and would surely teach you even more advanced enchanting techniques.”

Logan Bennett had never relied on anyone’s pity for his fate—not on Earth, and certainly not in this other world. Seeing Vera Smith’s naive expression, he curled his lips into a cold sneer, ready to mock her.

But when the words reached his lips, he held them back.

Vera Smith was different from him. This girl had stayed in White Stone Castle since childhood, never exposed to the outside world, her mind as pure as a blank sheet of paper. Unlike him, who had already lived half a lifetime on Earth, constantly bombarded by the relentless flood of information from the internet.

The actions of White Stone Castle’s master, Fiona Carter, were quite confusing, so it was understandable that Vera Smith still held out hope for him. Saying too much would only bring trouble upon himself.

He softened his tone. “Maybe you’re right. The enchanting is done, I’m going back to rest.”

Vera Smith thought she had convinced Logan Bennett, and was quite happy. “Rest easy. This ring is a rare masterpiece. Maybe if the master is pleased, he’ll teach us even more enchanting arts.”

“A masterpiece? Let’s hope so.”

Logan Bennett glanced at the clay ring, feeling it was all absurd: ‘Blessed with a temperature-holding spell, smooth and delicate surface, a clay ring—hmph, the rich really know how to enjoy themselves.’

He turned and walked toward the door. Just as he reached the threshold and was about to pull it open, he suddenly stopped, then turned his head and pressed his ear to the wooden door, listening intently.

Vera Smith asked curiously, “What’s wrong, Logan Bennett?”

“Shh—listen.” Logan Bennett pointed outside the door.

After a moment, heavy footsteps sounded from outside, so heavy the ground seemed to tremble. Accompanied by rough, heavy breathing—the kind of breathing you’d expect from a beast weighing over a ton, like a rhino, an elephant, or a giant crocodile.

As the footsteps drew closer, Wesley Smith’s face grew paler and paler, while Logan Bennett’s turned ashen, because both of them knew exactly who those footsteps belonged to.

The one-eyed ogre, Grant Howard!

The merciless executioner!

The lapdog of White Stone Castle’s master, Fiona Carter!

“It sounds like it’s coming for us.” Vera Smith’s voice was very soft and trembling, her small hands gripping her clothes so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Logan Bennett quietly took a step to the left of the door, his right hand hidden in his pocket against the wall. He stayed silent, his expression shifting, eyes fixed on the wooden door, gaze dark and unreadable.

This side of Logan Bennett made Vera Smith feel afraid.

Half a minute later, the footsteps reached the door of the enchanting room.

“Thud—thud—thud—”

The footsteps came right up to the enchanting room, but at the last moment passed by the door, then quickly faded away.

“Whew—”

Logan Bennett let out a sigh of relief.

Vera Smith’s hand cramped from gripping too tightly for so long. She asked cautiously, “Logan Bennett, who do you think it’ll be this time?”

“We’ll know soon enough.” Logan Bennett quietly took his hand out of his pocket.

The two of them stood motionless, waiting in silence. The air in the enchanting room felt oppressively heavy, almost suffocating.

The executioner didn’t keep them waiting long.

A few minutes later, a shrill scream came from not far away, a sound of utter terror and despair, like a pig about to be sent to the slaughterhouse.

“It sounds like Amy Carter! Amy Carter from the pens! That good-for-nothing, who clearly has talent but only ever eats and sleeps, sleeps and eats!” Vera Smith whispered, her expression relaxing, as if she found great comfort in the ogre’s choice.

Logan Bennett made no comment and opened the door of the enchanting room to walk out.

In the past half month, Grant Howard had already taken away thirteen people. After being taken, none of them had ever been seen again—not even their bodies.

The frequency was far too high.

In the past five years, this had never happened before.

Chapter 002: There Is No Paradise Beyond the World, Only Hell

The corridor outside the enchanting room was tall and wide, eerily empty, with pitifully few windows. Sunlight struggled to squeeze in through narrow cracks, trying to make the place warm and bright, but in the end, darkness and cold prevailed.

“Tap—tap—tap—”

The echo of footsteps sounded like the sighs of a demon, accompanying Logan Bennett all the way.

He hurried through the empty, silent corridor, then descended the spiral stone stairs all the way down to the basement. Here, light had been utterly defeated, and darkness reigned supreme.

Logan Bennett pulled his thin, tattered robe tightly around himself, feeling along the wall as he groped forward. When his hand finally touched a moldy wooden door, he stopped and pushed it open.

“Creak—”

The wooden door slowly opened, its harsh screech echoing far and wide. Like a stone dropped into a pond, it instantly shattered the silence of the basement. From the thick darkness at the end of the corridor came a chorus of cries, filled with pain and despair.