Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

He looked down at the black water shackles on his wrists, which were constantly flowing and exuded an ominous aura, and frowned slightly, but his tone remained unchanged.

"Do you know what you're doing?!"

Wu Heng stood at the doorway, the rain forming a hazy curtain behind him:

“I am well aware that I am inviting ‘death’ itself to be my guest.”

The entire haunted house fell completely silent because of this dramatic turn of events, with only the increasingly rapid sound of rain outside the window, as if playing a song for this blasphemous imprisonment.

The shackles on the Death Knight's wrists, formed from shadows and rain, seemed to flow slowly as if they had a life of their own, severing his deep connection with death in the outside world.

He looked down at the shackles, and the unchanging indifference on his face finally broke.

It was an expression that mixed shock, anger, and a hint of unbelievable absurdity.

"You—" His voice was still deep, yet it was like a suppressed volcano, a terrifying power beneath his calm exterior, "Imprisoning 'Death.' Do you know that since the beginning of time, there has never been such an arrogant act?

He couldn't even find a more fitting word, because this behavior itself transcended all of history.

Wu Heng stood at the door of the haunted house office. Outside the door was an endless curtain of rain, and inside was a frozen fear.

The hem of his robe rustled, contrasting with the water stains still spreading on the floor.

“I know exactly what I’m doing, Your Excellency.” Wu Heng’s voice was so calm that it was impossible to detect any ripples. “Imprisoning ‘death’ itself does sound beyond common sense, but I have reasons for doing it.”

"And you, esteemed incarnation of death, if you do not wish to continue being manipulated by Lucifer like a puppet, having your authority used to create hurricanes, floods, or artificially inflate the disgusting death rate, then perhaps this brief stay at my manor is the opportunity for us to find a way to break free from these constraints together."

The Death Knight chuckled softly, a laugh devoid of warmth, filled only with arrogance and a sigh for the ignorant: "So, your solution is to transfer me from the 'remote control' of a violent child to your more direct and brutal physical bondage? Is this your way of being a guest?"

"The temporary restraint is in exchange for greater freedom in the long run. I apologize for any inconvenience later." Wu Heng bowed slightly, his movements elegant yet carrying an undeniable determination.

The shadow behind him parted to the sides, revealing one of the ghost ships, barely visible, its hull entwined with the whispers of spirits and radiating a chilling aura.

The hull was slippery, as if it had just been salvaged from a deep slumber.

“Once we return to the manor together, you will naturally regain your rightful freedom. Perhaps there are people in this world who can escape death.” Wu Heng extended his right hand in an invitation, “but I believe that no one can truly imprison ‘death’.”

The Death Knight's eyes, which had seen through countless births and deaths and bore witness to the end of everything, stared intently at Wu Heng.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the skin, reaching the deepest part of Wu Heng's soul to measure its true weight.

Silence spread amidst the sound of rain and the suppressed breathing of the crowd, heavy as lead.

Ultimately, indifference to all changes seemed to outweigh the temporary displeasure of being constrained.

He slowly stood up. Although the shackles on his wrists restricted his movements, his ancient aura remained undiminished.

He stretched out his bound hands, wrists together, and offered them to Wu Heng, a clear signal to untie them.

This also meant that he had agreed to the 'invitation'. Wu Heng, however, remained in the same posture as when he was inviting people to board the ship, without moving. He simply spoke again, his voice clear and firm: "The journey is short. We can resolve everything once we are ashore."

The Death Knight's brows were furrowed, like rock layers being forcibly compressed, with deep furrows between them.

He stood there silently.

It was as if they were weighing the cost of a complete falling out against the value of temporary forbearance.

A few seconds later, the chill around him subsided slightly. He said nothing, but simply took a small step and used his handcuffed hands to pick up the paper bag next to him containing hot dogs, which had the fast food restaurant's logo on it.

Then he stepped onto the deck of the ghost ship.

His silhouette didn't resemble a bound prisoner, but rather an ancient deity who had temporarily folded his wings and embarked on an unknown voyage to inspect a place he had never anticipated.

“Dean, Sam,” Wu Heng turned his gaze to the Winchester brothers, who were tense beside him, “these new recruits and the follow-up work are entrusted to you. Make sure they return to the training camp safely. We’ll discuss the details when we get back to the manor.”

Dean and Sam watched as the ghost ship carrying Wu Heng and the 'invited' Death Knight disappeared silently into the shadows, like ink spreading across water. Both felt a complex mix of shock, bewilderment, and a hint of relief.

They looked at each other and saw the same determination in each other's eyes.

We must grow up quickly in order to face these increasingly unimaginable situations.

Dean took a deep breath, raised his voice, and began to organize the terrified yet excited rookie witchers in his characteristically rough but effective way: "Alright, alright, the show's over! Pack your things, check your equipment, wounded first! We need to get out of this hellhole before dawn!"

After finishing their business, Dean and Sam, upon receiving a notification from Wu Heng, returned to the heart of Morrick Manor.

This time, they were led to a hidden underground space.

The sight before them surprised both brothers.

Before me stood an automated potion factory that combined a metal structure with special incantations.

The conveyor belt moved silently, and the robotic arm operated precisely, sending the processed demonic materials, herbal essences, and energy streams extracted from the energy storage tank, which resembled liquid light dust, into the central refining core, which was constantly writhing and composed of aggregates of evil spirits and tentacles of evil spirits.

At the other end, the emerald-colored medicine was precisely poured into a specially made container. The entire process was efficient, precise, and carried an inhuman sense of order.

"Good heavens," Dean muttered as he watched a vial of medicine being removed. "The medicine that brought us hope was mass-produced right here, like on an assembly line?"

Sam was more interested in the complex incantations and energy conduits: "This requires unimaginable control and knowledge. Lor's background is deeper than we've seen."

When they were led to the dining area by the Grim Reaper's butler, the scene before them stunned them even more.

The Death Knight had changed into a clean, dark suit, and his shackles had been removed. He was sitting at the long dining table, elegantly enjoying a perfectly seared steak with silver cutlery.

Lady Hannah, the ghostly girl who belonged to the old man of Morrick Manor, stood pale-faced and with her hands clenched tightly to one side. (End of Chapter)