Chapter 009: The Tiger Bench

I cast my gaze around, studying the four iron cabinets. At first glance, they appeared no different from ordinary lockers, each roughly two meters wide and three meters long. The lock and keyhole were set dead center, and the blue nameplate in the middle was particularly conspicuous.

Circling the cabinets, I noted their footprint: together, they occupied at least three square meters. There was ample space inside to fit two or three people with ease. At the rear of each cabinet, a cable ran in—obviously, these cabinets were mere facades, meant to mislead. The true contents lay within.

Xu Meijing rapped loudly on the surface of one, calling out, but there was no reply. The sound echoed hollowly, giving no clue as to the mystery inside.

I produced the key I'd found and signaled Xu Meijing to step back. Sliding the key into the lock, I heard the teeth engage. A crisp snap rang out as I turned it, and suddenly the entire cabinet shuddered violently, teetering as if about to collapse onto us.

I yanked Xu Meijing away, leaping back several paces. Before us, the cabinet broke apart, each iron door falling in a different direction. What had been hidden within was revealed in an instant.

Xu Meijing took one look and shrieked, darting behind my back. I too was stunned by the sight—it was, unmistakably, another fiendish killing device.

To be precise, it was a chair resembling a massage chair, but constructed entirely from welded steel. The backrest, the legs, even the armrests were all iron, reminiscent of the torture benches shown on television.

Seated upon the iron chair was a man. Both Xu Meijing and I recognized him: Ji Haifeng, a classmate who now worked as a network administrator at a downtown internet café. At this moment, Ji Haifeng had been stripped bare, his hands and feet bound tightly by iron chains. He had worn glasses at our last class reunion, but now they were gone; his eyes were grotesquely swollen, and his mouth stuffed so full he could not speak.

Seeing us, Ji Haifeng frantically blinked, trying to signal for help. Around his neck hung a bronze-colored key, and though he attempted to cry out, whatever was jammed in his mouth silenced him completely.

I gestured for him to keep his mouth open and saw that a fist-sized solid iron ball had been shoved inside—no wonder he couldn't utter a word; his mouth was nearly torn apart by the brutal mass.

With a swift motion, I knocked the iron ball loose. It tumbled from his mouth, and Ji Haifeng greedily gulped down air, then erupted in furious curses. "Damn it! This must be that bastard Du Jiang's doing! He's gone too far! All because of some trivial old school matter? Such a grand spectacle just for revenge? I'll deal with that scumbag myself!"

"Ji Haifeng, do you really think Du Jiang is just fooling around? This isn't a joke! It's Du Jiang's insane revenge," Xu Meijing said grimly, recounting in detail the gruesome fate of our homeroom teacher and Gu Meijuan.

Ji Haifeng was so shocked his jaw nearly dropped. Goosebumps peppered his neck and his thin, monkey-like frame trembled. Twisting to adjust his position, he exclaimed, "Damn! He's going to kill me with some contraption too? He's lost his mind! Help me check my back, something feels heavy and uncomfortable!"

Ji Haifeng flexed his back, muttering in relief, "At least there's no meat grinder here. Honestly, there's no major grudge between Du Jiang and me, just some petty friction—not enough to warrant my death!"

I noticed that, despite its menacing appearance, the torture bench had no mechanical components. There wouldn't be a repeat of the grisly shredding our teacher suffered, but the cables running in gave me pause. I sensed the real danger lay in whatever was on Ji Haifeng's back.

I moved behind him for a look, and was utterly dumbfounded.

Cell phones—hundreds of them.

I never could have imagined seeing so many phones stuck to Ji Haifeng's back. Not just one, but a dense array: smartphones, slider phones, old-fashioned candy bar phones for seniors…

Every screen faced outward, glued directly to Ji Haifeng's skin with transparent adhesive, covering his entire back. Fine copper wires snaked between the devices, all screens black. From his neck down to his upper thighs, his back was plastered with phones, making him look like a giant circuit board.

"Ji Haifeng, your whole back is covered with phones," Xu Meijing whispered tensely, sweat breaking out across her brow.

"Phones? What are you talking about? Don't joke with me!"

"I'm not joking! They're all stuck on you with industrial glue! Apple, Huawei, sliders, candy bar phones—everything!"

"No way," Ji Haifeng protested incredulously. "Industrial glue? I don't feel a thing!"

I found it odd, too—so much glue on bare skin should cause intense burning pain. Unless…

I pinched his thigh sharply; he didn't react at all. He must have been given an anesthetic beforehand.

Suddenly, a familiar electronic beep echoed from the speakers installed in the gym corner, their casing painted to mimic red cigarette boxes—a cruel touch.

"Zheng Yan! Welcome to the gym center of Seafood Island. You haven't disappointed me—your quick thinking and professional knowledge served you well. Truly, you're the son of Zheng Guangxian; as outstanding as your father."

"Ji Haiming, male, network administrator at Shark Internet Café in Donghai City. A man addicted to virtual garbage, the online world. A college student raised by a working-class family, who wasted his university years on games and the digital world. Games are your goal, phones and computers your everything. The virtual world changed your life path, drained your ambitions. There, you're a dazzling legend; here, you're nothing but a rat scurrying through society."

Ji Haifeng groaned in agony. "Hurts… Hurts… Du Jiang, what did you do to my back? It feels like it's boiling! Okay, I'll confess everything—just let me go!"

"I admit it was wrong of me in college to steal your tuition money. I lost my mind and tampered with your computer, transferred two thousand yuan from you, and spent it on in-game credits for 'Fantasy Westward Journey.' When you suspected me, I had Yang Zhihong and the others beat you up, forced you to kneel and apologize in the grove. It was all my fault! Please, give me a chance to make it right—I'll pay you back double once I'm out! Just get this stuff off my back, I'm begging you!"

"Ji Haifeng!" Xu Meijing interrupted at the critical moment. "You must confess everything, leaving nothing out. Otherwise, he won't let you go!"

Ji Haifeng shook violently, his expression twisted and complex. Clearly, he was hiding a deeper secret—otherwise, Du Jiang would not have subjected him to such torment. The anesthetic was wearing off, and he squirmed on the bench, his back now bright red, some spots already eaten into wounds by the glue.

I prompted him, "You'd best tell us the truth about the girls' dorm fire. Think carefully—don't try to hide anything, or no one can save you."

"Alright, alright! I'll tell everything! I'll tell everything!" Ji Haifeng nodded frantically. "The fire in the girls' dorm two years ago wasn't my doing, but I… but that day I saw something I shouldn't have…"