I downed the glass of liquor in one gulp, and memories of that battle with the zombies surfaced in my mind—Quentin Wang and his father, Leon Wang.
Back then, Thomas Tang, that Taoist priest, wanted to refine both me and Zhang Qingyuan into zombies. Although Redmond helped him from behind the scenes, he didn’t realize that Redmond was only playing a prank on Yinchoujian after learning he’d emerged.
Afterward, I searched everywhere but couldn’t find a trace of Leon Wang or Quentin Wang. The gas company, left without anyone to manage it, eventually shut down, leaving many people out of work. I used to be the manager there, but with everything that happened, I had no time to worry about it.
But even after all that, I kept searching for Leon Wang and Quentin Wang. They were nowhere to be found. Now I finally understand—Zhang Qingyuan once told me he’d seen Thomas Tang again, plotting something in a building and gathering a bunch of ghosts. Zhang Qingyuan wiped out all those ghosts, but it seemed Thomas Tang had found a new backer.
Most likely, when Thomas Tang performed his dark ritual, he’d already prepared a substitute to absorb the backlash—Leon Wang and Quentin Wang.
"Looks like you’ve finally figured it out."
I grunted in response, and Serena Chen continued speaking.
"Most people who fall under dark spells are consumed by overwhelming evil thoughts. Even if they aren’t, the caster will do whatever it takes to draw out that evil, ensuring the spell takes hold. That’s exactly how the Underworld Denizens operated back then."
I let out a sound of surprise, and Serena Chen began to explain.
There was once a small sect in the supernatural community, with fewer than twenty members. The techniques they developed were exceptionally useful and famous. Just as they planned to expand, the Underworld Denizens decided to deal with them before they could grow.
After that, the Underworld Denizens sought out some practitioners of dark sorcery—most of whom had extended their lives using forbidden techniques. Naturally, they wanted something from the sect’s sorcerers: their bodies, even their souls. Under the guise of an exchange, the Underworld Denizens shared much about life and death, even some of their own arts, to obtain the sect’s unique techniques.
Those sorcerers then began to improve upon the sect’s methods, using them to cast dark spells on outsiders and even impersonating members of the sect. The results were extraordinary—even the sect leader started to suspect his own people had learned too much from the Underworld Denizens and begun altering their techniques for forbidden purposes.
Suspicion and distrust spread. Many in the sect even suspected the leader himself. Their plans for expansion ended abruptly, and the sect fractured. The dark sorcerers exploited the chaos, successfully drawing out evil thoughts from the sect members and ensnaring them all.
Everything that had been suppressed for years finally erupted after a year of scheming. The entire sect was wiped out, their bodies turned into magical tools or zombies, and their souls devoured by the dark sorcerers.
"How...this..."
Before I could finish, Serena Chen shot me a glare, tinged with anger.
"After we of the Nether Syndicate investigated, we avenged the dying leader of that sect. We killed those dark sorcerers—and some Underworld Denizens as well."
I swallowed hard, and Serena Chen smiled.
"As for the righteous practitioners, it’s hard for them to fall prey to dark sorcery. Most have pure hearts and strong faith, making it difficult to draw out evil thoughts. Otherwise, those who wield dark arts would have conquered the supernatural world long ago, wouldn’t they?"
I grunted in agreement. It was true—I’d never heard of dark sorcerers targeting the Buddhist Order, the Daoist Order, or the Underworld Denizens. Most operate in secret, fleeing at the first sign of exposure. Just thinking about the past made me grit my teeth.
I’d been tricked by those dark sorcerers more times than I could count. Most used ghosts to collect yang energy, transferring it to themselves to prolong their lives. But when I finally found them in person, they were always gaunt and frail—one punch and they’d go down.
I remember once tracking down an old man who was half a step from the grave. He tormented many with his ghost, and after we dealt with the spirit, I didn’t hesitate to beat him senseless for all the trouble he’d caused me.
I broke three of his ribs and sent him straight to the hospital. Old Eccentric chewed me out, and even the Ghost Burial Squad thought I’d gone too far.
These shadowy sorcerers really are outrageous. Just now, when Serena Chen mentioned the Nether Syndicate killed those dark sorcerers, I understood why their reputation is what it is in the supernatural world—they’ve probably taken out plenty of dark sorcerers, many of whom are deeply entangled with various sects.
I still remember the first time I met Zhang Qingyuan—Damian Chen wanted to kill him. The second time was the same, because Damian was convinced Zhang Qingyuan consorted with ghosts. The first time, Zhang Qingyuan looked awful, and the stench of ghosts was everywhere, so Damian was sure his condition was due to associating with ghosts. The second time was at the hospital.
And the third time was no different—even I wanted to kill him that time.
"How does the Nether Syndicate train its people, anyway?"
I muttered.
"Evil must be cut down."
I swallowed, catching the pride on Serena Chen’s face. For them, it was clearly a point of honor.
"All these years, we’ve traveled the world, slaying countless who consorted with ghosts or evil spirits. We’ve never regretted it, even when everyone condemned us. In your era, the Nether Syndicate was the same, wasn’t it?"
I grunted in agreement—it was true. But after that, the Nether Syndicate didn’t show up, which surprised me.
"That’s the Sect Leader’s teaching for all of us: If ghosts aren’t slain, the living world will never know peace. If evil isn’t eradicated, the world can’t survive."
I looked at Serena Chen in confusion. In my memory, Old Cat was always kind, and didn’t see things in black and white. How did the Nether Syndicate become so rigid under the current generation?
Unable to hold back my curiosity, I asked. Serena Chen explained that it started with the Second Generation Sect Leader—when he was young, practitioners of dark sorcery and ghosts massacred his entire family.
Many in the Underworld Denizens were also victims of dark sorcery or ghosts. Only those who met one of those criteria could join the Nether Syndicate and study their arts. From then on, the sect’s practices drew power from the anger and hatred of those wronged by ghosts or evil men.
Hearing this, I was astonished. To have faith—and to feed your supernatural arts with hatred—was shocking.
"What about your first Sect Leader?"
I asked, and for a moment, Serena Chen looked at me in confusion.
"The first Sect Leader died hundreds of years ago."