Mr. Cooper began working on my body. First, he used a pen to draw a Bagua on my chest, muttering under his breath as his other hand filled the area around the Bagua with dense symbols and tiny characters.
I was burning with anxiety—now I could only rely on this couple. Even though they couldn't see me, the elaborate ritual gave me hope that I might still be saved.
"Listen carefully, kid. If you start feeling cold or hungry, don’t dwell on it. When a person dies and the soul leaves the body, for a while you won’t feel anything. But as time passes, hunger and cold creep in. When that happens, it means you’re about to report to the Styx Gate."
No sooner had Mr. Cooper finished speaking than I felt waves of hunger and a chill seep into me. I tried my best to suppress it, but my teeth couldn’t help chattering.
"Alright, dear. I’ve used the Soul Lock to temporarily slow down the loss of his yang energy, but it’ll only last until the rooster crows tomorrow morning. If he hasn’t returned by then, there’s nothing more we can do."
Mrs. Blake suddenly raised her head and took out a lamp. Then Mr. Cooper removed the large pin. She held the paper doll tied to the pin, lit the oil lamp, and burned the doll over it. Strangely, after the doll was burned, the once-bright flame dwindled to a tiny flicker.
"Ethan, you need to find your other two souls right now. Hurry, or after midnight tonight, you’ll be dragged to the Styx Gate. Once you enter, there’s no coming back."
I shot out the window, half-floating, half-running. Mrs. Blake had explained: after the soul leaves the body, the three souls lose their anchor and cannot reunite. Only the main soul retains consciousness; the other two drift to places they loved or remembered most in life.
Suddenly, I thought of Central Park. That was where I first met Lily Wu, and where we had our first date. Without hesitation, I raced there.
I don’t know how long it took, but by the time I reached the fountain inside the park, I was exhausted, hungry, and drained. Sure enough, one of my souls was sitting blankly on a bench, staring into space.
Powerless, I stared at the oil lamp in Mrs. Blake’s hand, watching as it threatened to extinguish at any moment.
"Cooper, have you tried summoning the soul?"
"It’s useless. I tried at noon. There’s no sign of that kid’s soul at all."
Shivering, I stood before them, shouting again and again. It felt like a fierce wind was whipping around me, and then the wind truly picked up, blurring everything until I could only squint.
"Mrs. Blake, help me! Please, help me!"
I felt something begin to pull me slowly off the ground. The soul I’d just merged with started to slip away, peeling itself from my body and floating off.
"Is his fate really sealed?" Mr. Cooper muttered, then stood up and began packing away his things. I saw the oil lamp’s flame finally go out.
"This calamity—looks like we still can’t overcome it. Cooper, someone’s deliberately harming Ethan."
"Let’s go, Blake. We’ll return and perform proper rites for the boy. Anything beyond that isn’t our concern—unless you still want to get involved?"
Mrs. Blake shook her head. After they packed up, they left. No matter how desperately I screamed, my body was slowly wrapped in a powerful current of air.
The wind grew stronger. I thought I saw a tree, and then I hit the ground. Struggling, I crawled up, clutching a handful of sand.
The whole environment had changed—an endless desert, a gnarled, dead tree, and, in the distance, something else looming.
A cacophony of chattering echoed in my ears, but I couldn’t see a thing.
"Newcomer, get in line—hurry up."
Something struck my shoulder—a stick or a club. Suddenly, people appeared all around me, shambling like the walking dead, lining up in a long queue.
The one who hit me had the head of an ox and carried a red staff. I hurried to the end of the line. Looking ahead, I saw three huge characters: Styx Gate. A towering city gate loomed, and the line of people shuffled beneath its archway.
Had I really died? The thought sent me running, but as soon as I tried to flee, a chain snapped around me. The ox-headed figure came over and struck me several times with his staff.
"Try running again and I’ll send you to the Rakshasa’s domain—where you’ll never be reborn."
I returned to the line. After a long wait, it was finally my turn. In front of me sat a Hell’s Registrar holding a pen, who glanced at me.
"Ethan Zhang. Hm. Died unjustly. Report to Limbo." The Hell’s Registrar spoke as he wrote in a ledger, then waved me forward.
"Sir, I’m innocent—please let me go back!"
"You’re quite lively. Enough nonsense—you’ve come to the Styx Gate, there’s no going back."
A Hell’s Sentinel appeared beside me, and, seeing my reluctance, forced me toward the Styx Gate.
Inside, I was stunned. The sights were surreal—colors everywhere, the sky half red, half blue. Countless roads stretched out, and those who’d entered before me each took a different path.
The Hell’s Sentinel escorted me to the third path on the right.
"Go on yourself. Up ahead is Limbo."
The path was endless, flanked by bottomless chasms. I didn’t want to go, but the Hell’s Sentinel kept driving me forward with his red staff.
I had no choice but to set foot on the path. Instantly, wails and shrieks pierced the air—agonized screams and tormented cries rising from below.
I glanced down and recoiled in terror. Below was a sea of blood, filled with skeletal figures writhing in endless agony—a sight too ghastly to bear.
I wanted nothing more than to turn back, but below the path lay hills bristling with needles, each one impaling the flayed souls strung across them. The needle hills grew of their own accord, the fine points stabbing deeper into those wretched spirits.
"Hell’s Registrar, can you let me go? If I return, I’ll burn you plenty of money."
The Hell’s Registrar smiled.
"I’ve seen plenty like you. Forget about returning to the world of the living. Just report to Limbo and be careful on the road—if you fall, there’s no coming back."
As he spoke, the road behind me began to vanish, leaving me no choice but to keep moving forward. I looked back again and again, watching the path disappear bit by bit.
Fearful, I kept praying in my heart—begging anyone, anything, to save me. I’d do anything, if only someone would help. My pace slowed, and suddenly, my foot slipped. I tumbled down onto a blue sheet of ice below.
"Brother, you should be more careful!"
It was the ghost from the graveyard. He reached out, grabbing me. I stared down in horror at the suffering souls below, shrieking in agony as they endured endless cold.
I had no choice but to set foot on the path. Instantly, wails and shrieks pierced the air—agonized screams and tormented cries rising from below.
I glanced down and recoiled in terror. Below was a sea of blood, filled with skeletal figures writhing in endless agony—a sight too ghastly to bear.
I wanted nothing more than to turn back, but below the path lay hills bristling with needles, each one impaling the flayed souls strung across them. The needle hills grew of their own accord, the fine points stabbing deeper into those wretched spirits.
"Hell’s Registrar, can you let me go? If I return, I’ll burn you plenty of money."
The Hell’s Registrar smiled.
"I’ve seen plenty like you. Forget about returning to the world of the living. Just report to Limbo and be careful on the road—if you fall, there’s no coming back."
As he spoke, the road behind me began to vanish, leaving me no choice but to keep moving forward. I looked back again and again, watching the path disappear bit by bit.
Fearful, I kept praying in my heart—begging anyone, anything, to save me. I’d do anything, if only someone would help. My pace slowed, and suddenly, my foot slipped. I tumbled down onto a blue sheet of ice below.
"Brother, you should be more careful!"
It was the ghost from the graveyard. He reached out, grabbing me. I stared down in horror at the suffering souls below, shrieking in agony as they endured endless cold.