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After Transmigration, I Got Ninety Nine Twisted Personalities

After Transmigration, I Got Ninety Nine Twisted Personalities Chapter 40

My name is Xie Kun. I, a person like me, had no childhood to speak of.

From my earliest memories, I have lived in the mining areas. This place was filled with white mountains and black waters, with mines everywhere.

I had no father or mother. Many children here were like me, some were trafficked here, some had parents who died.

I don't know how I came here and I don't really care.

The mining area was another world, where only the law of the jungle prevailed. Here, the most primal battles for survival played out every day.

From when I was 6 years old, or at least that’s what they said, since I don’t actually know how old I am, let’s just say 6 years old.

From ages 6 to 14, in those 8 years, I went through 5 fathers, the previous ones were all beaten to death.

In the mining areas, deaths were common. After someone died, people would throw the bodies into the mining caves, case closed. No one cared.

From age 14, I started to go around fighting with others everywhere. Several times I nearly died but fortunately I was vicious enough to survive.

Fighting was not the goal. The goal was to raid the mines. In the year I turned 16, we raided a new mine, one that was said to have rich deposits. We were overjoyed since this would earn a lot of money.

I clearly remember that day, 8 of us went down into the mining cave, ready to start digging.

But we didn’t dig long before there was a cave in. All 8 of us were trapped in the cave. One person was crushed to death instantly.

In the beginning, facing the crisis we were still unified, working together to think of ways to get out. But it was useless, there was no getting out.

I knew that with this kind of collapse, there was no way people outside could rescue us within 10-15 days.

So the only thing I could think of was how to keep myself alive for those 10-15 days.

But it was so difficult. We only brought a little water, probably only enough for one day. We didn’t bring any food at all.

By the third day, the 7 remaining people were already starving and couldn’t take it anymore. One person gnashed his teeth and said: “Let’s eat human flesh, otherwise we won’t survive.”

Then they turned their sights onto the rotting corpse.

In the end, 4 people ate human flesh while I and another 2 didn’t eat any - we really couldn’t get it down.

So I watched as those 4 people gnawed on feet, bit open bellies, chewed arms.

At first I wanted to vomit badly, it was just too disgusting. But gradually, as I was nearing starvation and delirium, I discovered that the human flesh seemed quite delicious.

Two days later I regained consciousness, but everyone else was dead.

The 4 who ate human flesh died from poisoning. The other 2 died from dehydration.

Why was I still alive? I didn’t really understand. Also I didn’t feel weak at all.

Looking closely, I noticed one of the people who died of thirst had a hole bitten open in his neck and all the blood had dried up.

At this point, I seemed to understand something. A certain chain in my heart broke off along with any psychological barriers.

I silently walked over to the corpses and started drinking their blood and eating their flesh.

I was too hungry. Eating it I felt it was amazingly delicious - I had never eaten anything so tasty.

And so I endured for a full month in the cave before the people outside finally came.

They were all shocked to find me still alive, as was I.

Because I realized all their appearances had changed. They no longer looked human, instead they were just sheep waiting for slaughter.

A thought came to me as soon as I came out: “Maybe I should find an opportunity sometime to butcher a few of them to whet my teeth?” It seemed perfectly logical to me - humans do need to eat meat when they’re hungry after all.

After returning to my old residence, I slaughtered the mine owner a few days later and carefully prepared a meat stew.

I liked sharing good stuff so I brought the stew over for the mine owner’s sons to eat.

Who knew - not only did they refuse to eat it but they actually tried to kill me!

I felt a little indignant. I had clearly shared the best stuff with them yet they remained unappreciative.

Appreciation I could understand, but for them to actually try to kill me?

Oh well, nothing to be done. I had no choice but to run - out of the mining area and into the mountains.

Then over the next 10 years I journeyed across practically the entire nation. Every big and small place, I went and toured them all.

Of course at each place I visited I would sample the unique local delicacies. Indeed there were subtle taste differences to the human meat depending on where it came from.

I coined myself the nickname Travelling Gourmand.

Granted I am unrefined and poorly educated, but I quite enjoyed the moniker. It made me feel cultured.

Eventually the running wore me out. After all, one cannot keep running indefinitely. Humans do need stability.

So I decided to settle down in a small village on the outskirts of Lin’an City and built myself a little homestead on the mountainside.

I had some savings from killing all those people before and taking their money. So I could even afford a car with 4 wheels.

I planned it all out. I would collect scraps for recycling, which would give me opportunities to continue sampling delicious delicacies.

I was 35 years old then. And so I retired into a peaceful life in Lin’an from that point onwards.

I disliked interacting with others, especially with villagers whom I feared I would be unable to resist butchering.

Yet I wasn’t stupid either. Killing a villager would likely get me arrested by the police and I had no wish to go to jail.

So I isolated myself from them and scared them away. It worked very effectively - soon I had my quiet and solitude.

Over the next 2 years here I managed to discover another 10 plus wonderfully meaty prey and successfully hunted them.

Just as I thought my life would continue this happy way indefinitely...

An accident happened. A fancy red sports car struck me and sent me flying. I was sure I was done for.

As it turns out my life force was remarkably tenacious. After a week of emergency treatment I miraculously pulled through alive, astonishing even the doctors.

But where would I find so much money for the medical bills?!

Just then a man sought me out and not only paid for my entire treatment but also arranged for nurses to care for me during recovery.

I stayed at the hospital for a full year of recuperation. Afterwards I continued recovering at home for 6 to 7 years before I healed. My injuries were too serious - they even had to transplant me a new kidney.

Throughout those 6-7 years a person would frequently come to my home. He taught me many, many things.

At the same time I also formally joined their organization. But I won’t say much about the organization - to me, they are true family.

6 months ago I finally regained mobility. Having endured deprivation for so long I needed to make up for lost time.

My first target was the woman who ran me over back then. I succeeded and tormented her quite horrifically.