"Help me, help me..." I cried out, clutching the ghost's hand as if it were my last lifeline.
"Scared now, huh, brother? Heh, those old folks might have some tricks up their sleeves, but they're far from saving you. If I'd come any later, you'd be stuck in this frozen hell for good!"
My face was deathly pale as I kept glancing down. For a moment, hope flickered inside me—I didn't want to die, I just wanted to go home.
"So, brother, after you get back..."
"I'll do whatever you say. Anything."
I shouted immediately. The ghost smiled with satisfaction, pulled me, and led me back onto the road suspended in midair.
"What now?"
"Hmm. Once you've crossed the Styx Gate, ordinary ghosts can't turn back. Let's head to Limbo—there's a way out from there."
The ghost walked ahead while I followed cautiously. The road behind us kept vanishing, but not as quickly as before.
Along the way, I saw all kinds of hells below. Little ghosts tormented the punished souls endlessly. I'd heard stories about the underworld before, but now, seeing it with my own eyes, it was far more horrifying than I'd ever imagined.
I kept my head down, afraid but unable to resist glancing up. Suddenly, the ghost in front of me stopped and I bumped into him.
"We're here, brother."
I looked up and stared. A massive city stood before me, its archway emblazoned with the words 'Limbo.' Behind the city, a green waterfall poured into the moat, steam constantly rising from the water.
The closer we got to Limbo, the louder the wails became.
"You know, brother, souls who died unjustly usually have to wait here until their lifespan runs out before they can reincarnate. You've got sixty or seventy years left—see, I'm treating you well, aren't I?"
I stayed silent and followed the ghost. Suddenly, I stumbled back in fright. In the green moat, countless ghosts tried to climb out, but something held them back. Their hollow eyes and gaping mouths screamed endlessly.
The green water slowly corroded their skin, and the steam came from the corrosion. When only bones remained, new flesh would grow, forcing them to endure the agony over and over again.
"How can I get back?"
"It's not easy, brother. If you'd begged me sooner, there would've been better ways."
Panic rose in me.
"I wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you."
The ghost turned to look at me and smiled.
"Listen up, brother. Soon you'll have to report in—see Judge Bane, ruler of Limbo. Remember, no matter what he asks, don't say a word. Even if the little ghosts beat you, stay silent. Got it?"
As he spoke, the ghost vanished. The drawbridge to Limbo lowered, and two Hell's Sentinels came out. They had sharp teeth and monkey-like faces, their skin green and furrowed.
Without a word, one Hell's Sentinel looped a chain around my neck, leading me like a dog. The other whipped me with a thorny branch.
"Stop hitting me, stop!"
The thorny branch lashed my body, tearing my skin and flesh until I was a bloody mess. Dragging and beating me, they led me into the city.
Inside, iron cages lined the surroundings, packed with ghosts. Their hollow eyes seemed blind, sniffing the air instead.
"Another newcomer," a voice said. It was a ghost with long white hair.
My back throbbed with unbearable pain. I had no idea what torment awaited me. Past the cages, I saw torture chambers where little ghosts tormented the souls—pulling tongues, gouging flesh, sawing bone. The worst was in one cell.
Swarms of rats gnawed endlessly at the ghosts thrown into their cell.
I was led into a grand hall. Behind a desk sat a bearded man wearing a crown of pearls and a black embroidered robe—Judge Bane.
Forced down by the Hell's Sentinels, I knelt on the ground.
"Who goes there? State your name!" His voice rang out like a Beijing opera, almost making me laugh. But I kept my head down and said nothing.
Strangely, the wounds on my back stopped hurting, as if they'd healed instantly.
Judge Bane seemed angry and slammed the desk, rising to his feet.
"How dare you ignore my question!"
The Hell's Sentinels and Hell's Registrars began to shout and argue. Suddenly, seven or eight Sentinels rushed over and lifted me by my arms and legs. One of them held a saw.
"Why is your aura so dark? What year and month were you born? Why can't I find your origin?"
Another question, but I clenched my teeth. I knew the worst they could do was torture me for a while—it would heal soon enough.
Right now, I could only trust that ghost. He told me not to say a word.
"Guards, fry him first, then chop him up—let's see if he'll talk!"
A scalding cauldron of oil was pushed into the hall by several Hell's Sentinels. The boiling oil steamed, and I was dragged to the cauldron, waves of heat washing over me.
"Will you talk or not?"
Judge Bane pressed me again.
I shut my eyes, gritted my teeth, and heard footsteps—Judge Bane himself seemed to be coming down.
With a sizzling sound, I finally screamed in agony. Someone forced my hand into the cauldron, and pain exploded through every cell in my body—like thousands of needles stabbing me at once.
"Will you talk? What's your connection to the Seven Ghost Lords?"
(Irrelevant system message: This chapter isn't finished ^.^, please click next page to continue reading!)
I had no idea what Judge Bane was talking about. I just kept shaking my head. Another sizzling sound—my other hand was forced into the oil. I screamed until I thought the sky would crack. I'd never suffered like this in my life.
Next, a huge hand pressed my head toward the boiling cauldron. I struggled desperately.
"Think carefully—will you talk or not?" Judge Bane whispered in my ear.
Terror gripped me. My hands still throbbed with pain—if my head went in, I'd wish I were dead.
A wave of heat hit my face, splashing me with hot oil. My skin blistered, and my face was less than a centimeter from the cauldron.
"Bad news, my lord! Someone's letting the ghosts out!"
Just then, a Hell's Sentinel stumbled into the hall. Judge Bane was furious and let go of me.
"Watch this one. I'll interrogate him properly when I return."
Chaos erupted outside. Somehow, I'd survived. Five little ghosts chained me up tightly.
My hands returned to normal. The twisted, battered flesh healed, and the pain vanished.
The Hell's Sentinels muttered among themselves. I couldn't understand them, but their grins made it clear—they were planning how to torture me next.
Suddenly, a hand burst through a Hell's Sentinel's chest, impaling him. It was that ghost—he dispatched the five Sentinels in a flash, splattering me with green blood.
"Hurry, brother!" he said, unlocking my chains and dragging me behind Judge Bane's desk. Outside, I saw Sentinels missing limbs and even heads, strewn everywhere. Most of the ghosts had escaped; only a few were still fleeing.
"Was that you?" I asked weakly.
"Move, or when Judge Bane finds out, neither of us will get out."
Behind Limbo, a small door had been opened. Countless ghosts scrambled to get out.
"Move!" The ghost snarled at the crowd blocking the way. The ghosts quickly parted.
We escaped Limbo and found ourselves before a range of rolling mountains.
"Which way now?"
"Cross these mountains and you'll reach the Bridge of Despair. Once we're there, we'll find a way."