Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

After saying that, he ignored Castio, whose expression remained solemn, and turned his attention back to the container in his hand, as if he had just confirmed something trivial.

But his statement undoubtedly reassured the Winchester brothers, who were suffering inwardly.

“Then I’ll trouble you, Mr. Castio,” the two said solemnly.

Castio, however, still frowned slightly, his gaze sweeping over Wu Heng from time to time, his scrutiny and doubt undiminished, especially as he stared at the test tube in Wu Heng's hand.

The darkness in that test tube was so concentrated and so intense, it was as if it contained the power of hundreds or thousands of demons.

To him, it was like a garbage dump that he couldn't ignore.

Under the dim light of the apartment, John Winchester lay on a makeshift mattress, his face ashen, his breathing weak. The trauma to his soul made his brow furrowed even in his sleep, as if he were enduring invisible torment.

My body occasionally trembles unconsciously.

Castio stood by the bed, his emotionless eyes calmly sweeping over John's body as if he were reading a damaged document.

Then he stretched out a hand and placed it above John's forehead.

The tip of the index finger began to emit an extremely soft, yet indescribably powerful, pure white light.

“His soul is severely damaged, and the filth of hell has penetrated deep into its core.” Castio stated calmly and without any fluctuation in his voice. “Complete repair would require an enormous amount of energy, which is not worthwhile, and his soul cannot withstand it. Therefore, I will use a combination of purification and awakening.”

His words were direct; he didn't treat John as a life that needed saving, but rather as an 'important item' that needed repair.

Having only recently arrived in the human world, he doesn't possess much humanity.

Dean clenched his fist instantly, his lips pressed into a line, and Sam frowned as well, but they both held back and didn't make a sound.

Now, Castio is their only hope.

A pure white light, like warm flowing water, slowly poured into John's forehead.

Wherever the light passed, wisps of visible black filth, like scorched worms, escaped from John's seven orifices and pores, emitting a faint sizzling sound.

Then it completely dissolved in the holy light.

This is the power of angels purifying the hellish remnants and curses attached to John's soul.

As the purification process continued, John's spasms gradually subsided, and a trace of color returned to his ashen face, but he still did not wake up, as if his consciousness was trapped in some deep place.

"The external filth has been cleared away, which has only amplified the only problem: his consciousness is locked in a most painful memory."

Castio withdrew his hand, and the light faded.

He turned to Dean and Sam: “Someone needs to go into the depths of his consciousness to guide him to confront and overcome that trauma. You are his blood relatives, and your soul frequencies are the closest. You are the only two people who can do it.”

Before the two brothers could answer, Castio placed his hands on Dean and Sam's foreheads respectively.

A powerful yet gentle force instantly enveloped their consciousness.

"Do not resist. I will project your spirits into it. Remember, that is his memory and his battlefield. You are the bystanders and the reinforcements. Whether you can bring him out depends on you and on him."

The next second, Dean and Sam felt as if their souls were being ripped from their bodies. Everything went black, and they plunged into a terrifying scene filled with agonizing screams and the stench of sulfur. This wasn't real hell, but an incredibly realistic scene of memories constructed from John Winchester's soul—all of which were his own personal experiences.

The sky was an eternally burning dark red, the ground beneath our feet was scorching hot earth, and the sounds of chains grinding and demons' savage laughter filled the air.

Dean and Sam's 'spirits' stood on the edge of a river of lava, where they witnessed a scene that terrified them.
Their father, John, was bound to a red-hot copper pillar by rough black chains.

His body was covered with whip marks, branding marks, and deep wounds that exposed bone. Executioners of various demonic forms took turns stepping forward, lashing him with barbed whips, tearing at his flesh with red-hot pincers, and pouring scalding lava down his throat.
Each torment was accompanied by a soul-deep wail, and John's screams had become hoarse, his eyes gradually losing focus in the extreme pain, only in the deepest part of his being, a sliver of indomitable flame remained.

Even the most determined person cannot endure this kind of torment.

"Daddy!"

Dean's eyes were bloodshot, and he instinctively rushed forward, but Sam held him back tightly.

"Dean, calm down! Castio said this is a memory. We have to come up with a plan, do something, and bring Daddy out!"

Sam's voice trembled as he watched his father endure inhuman torture, feeling as if his heart was being gripped tightly by an icy hand.

They realized that although only a short time might have passed in reality, John might have endured years, or even longer, in this hell of painful memories.

A heavy, suffocating heartache and guilt overwhelmed them.

A faint voice echoed in their minds, a response to the memory itself: "Twenty years."

This realization caused Dean and Sam to sway simultaneously.

Twenty years!
Their father endured twenty years of torment alone in this purgatory.

"Can't wait any longer!"

Dean let out a low growl, breaking free from Sam. His spirit instantly materialized into his signature hunting knife, imbued with angelic power. Sam, in turn, immediately began to channel his demonic power.

They knew this might alter the course of their memories, but it was what they needed to do, and they couldn't bear to watch their father suffer any longer.

"Hey, you bastards, let him go!" Dean pounced on a demon who was branding John's chest with a hot iron like a tiger, his hunting knife piercing the demon's back with precision.

The demon let out an incredulous howl and vanished into blue smoke.

Sam's curse, transformed into black shackles, temporarily bound the other two demons.

Their intrusion was like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, shattering the established 'script' of this hell of memories.

Bound, John struggled to lift his head, his cloudy eyes reflecting two familiar yet somewhat blurry figures: "Dean? Sam? No, impossible. It's an illusion. Another trick of the devil."

"It's not a hallucination, Daddy, it's us!"

As Dean swung his sword to fend off another demon that lunged at him, he cried out urgently, his voice choked with emotion, "We've come to take you home."

Dean swiftly severed the chains, and John collapsed weakly to the ground. (End of Chapter)