I stared blankly at Xu Fu. A strange sensation welled up in my mind, but I quickly shook my head.
"Since everyone is here today, I'd like to take this opportunity to tell you all something."
As Xu Fu spoke, he walked over to the corpse again, then pointed at the lifeless body sitting woodenly on the platform and began to explain.
The owner of this body was a man named Walter Wang. From childhood, he was a model student, excelling in both character and academics. His life was smooth and successful—good job, happy family. To many, Walter Wang's life was perfect.
But when his daughter fell seriously ill at age five, the family faced exorbitant medical bills. Walter Wang's life began to unravel. It's as if fate is fair to everyone—there are ups and downs. Walter, who had always sailed smoothly, found himself powerless in the face of destiny.
As his daughter's condition worsened day by day, Walter and his wife sold everything they could to save her. Yet, they still couldn't save her life. Ultimately, their daughter passed away. Such hardship was something Walter had never experienced before turning thirty. After his daughter's death, they were left with enormous debt and endless arguments over trivial matters.
In the end, just a few days ago, Walter Wang and his wife divorced. He was left alone, burdened by heavy debt. Because of his daughter's illness, Walter lost his job—unable to balance work and family. His wife, just an ordinary woman, seemed to have lost all attachment to life. Walter chose to end his own life.
After death, Walter Wang quickly became a wandering soul. In just two or three days, he was nearly a ghost already. This transformation was unusually fast. If a wandering soul isn't dealt with promptly, it will drift through the living world. Normally, it takes a cycle—forty-nine days—to become a ghost.
"Why do you think Walter Wang is turning into a ghost so quickly?"
Xu Fu said this as he began to walk slowly, then smiled.
"It's not just the despair and negative energy from life, but the unwillingness, hatred, and the abundance of resentment in this world after death. These things are the best nourishment for ghosts. In a world so full of hatred, ghosts naturally proliferate and grow stronger. I believe none of you here have truly experienced it, but you are all beneficiaries—the power born from negative emotions is the best food for ghosts."
Xu Fu spoke without anyone objecting. I quietly watched him as he continued.
Everyone is born unequal—different families, different illusions, different minds. Strength and weakness begin from birth. The strong rule the weak, the weak become weaker, and the strong only grow stronger. To climb from the bottom, one must pay a tremendous price.
At this, Xu Fu smiled.
"Ethan Zhang is a perfect example. Think carefully about everything he's experienced—how he went from weak to strong, what he gained and lost. It's like wild beasts: the offspring of predators become predators, while the offspring of prey are simply eaten. The world is just that unfair. Death is the catalyst for all this. If Walter Wang's daughter could come back to life, would he have killed himself? Would he suffer? The death of a loved one brings sorrow, then anger, resentment, and hatred. Because we are not strong, humans are fragile. So after death, the resentment intensifies, and ghosts are born."
Xu Fu chuckled as he walked toward us, raising both hands.
"I've witnessed countless eras, and so have you. As evil ghosts, you probably know better than I do. Throughout history, every tragedy is born from death—without exception. From the destruction of nations to the collapse of families, death creates all misfortune. Many die simply because their allotted lifespan ends, and their passing may not affect anything. But what if the strong die? When a strong person creates order, their death often brings endless tragedy. The death of the weak is rarely worth mentioning, but when the strong fall, those who covet their throne begin to fight for it. In the end, the weak suffer most. Tragedy repeats and multiplies because of death, breeding more ghosts in this endless cycle."
Xu Fu withdrew his hands, clenching them into fists. There was a look of determination in his eyes.
"So, according to you, if people didn't die, there wouldn't be tragedy. But let me ask you, Xu Fu: every stage of human society's evolution is tied to death. Reincarnation exists to guide people from the shore of birth to the shore of death. This process is something all things must follow. Even if you break it, then what? Will the world truly be at peace?"
Isabelle Frost asked coldly. Xu Fu chuckled and shook his head.
"I didn't say that, Miss Isabelle. What I mean is, if people could be resurrected after death, there would be far fewer tragedies in this world. People could transcend life and death and truly gain self-mastery. Who decided on reincarnation? Why must we humans endure all this suffering, when it's clearly unnecessary? Only by breaking out of this cycle can the world become what it ought to be."
"Heh, Xu Fu, all your arguments are just for immortality. People are born to face death. What's important isn't the result but the process. The tragedies you speak of are self-inflicted. Fate is merely an excuse people give themselves for failure. Take the man you mentioned—if he hadn't neglected his family for work, or ignored the warning signs of his daughter's illness, waiting until it was too late to seek treatment, the outcome would have been different. Twisting concepts is your specialty, Xu Fu. Tragedies caused by people must be borne by them. Hell is the end result. People must face the consequences of their own mistakes and the tragedies they cause. What you describe only exists in the world of gods and Buddhas—no suffering? Don't be ridiculous. It's precisely because suffering and joy coexist that humanity exists at all."
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Isabelle Frost's emotions grew agitated as she spoke. I smiled slightly, and Xu Fu quickly shook his head.
"Miss Isabelle, regardless of the process, the result is the same. After death, people produce all kinds of negative things—ghosts are born, and ghosts hate humans and want to devour them. What I'm showing you now is a basic model that could end the chain of hatred between humans and ghosts. If we implement it as planned, people..."
A burst of hearty laughter rang out. We all turned to look at John Chou, who walked slowly toward Xu Fu.
"Xu Fu, whether human or ghost, none of this matters. Strong or weak, your so-called fantasies solve nothing. Only by relying on oneself can one be saved; depending on others leads nowhere. You said Ethan Zhang was your example? If he hadn't moved forward, no one could have helped him, and he couldn't have saved anyone. In fact, what we all saw was him saving himself. Enough talk—let's discuss your treatment plan."
Xu Fu turned away in displeasure and returned to the platform. Thousand Hands immediately burst into laughter.
"Looks like our views really don't align, John Chou. You want to find a way to end all these conflicts too, don't you?"
John Chou smiled, tilted his head, and shook it.
"We're neither gods nor Buddhas—none of this has anything to do with us. Whether the world is white or black, heh, you're all just a bunch of self-deluded dreamers trying to surpass the gods, Xu Fu!"
John Chou's last words carried deep meaning. I quietly watched Xu Fu; though his face showed displeasure, he said nothing. At this moment, Isabelle Frost slowly drifted to Walter Wang's corpse.
"Has this guy really been resurrected?"
Isabelle Frost stared coldly at Thousand Hands, who immediately shook his head.
"Reviving a corpse ghost is indeed difficult. This one counts as a failure—the consciousness didn't come back. You could call it a vegetative state. But there have been successful cases, like Mason Yu."
I glanced at Soren Black again. He remained silent, coldly staring at the corpse on the platform. Then, a Blue-Faced Man from the Immortality Society picked up Walter Wang's body, preparing to take it away, but Isabelle Frost stopped him.
"What do you intend to do?"
Thousand Hands scratched his head.
"Failed experiments have to be disposed of, naturally. The records are saved. As for the rest..."
With a crisp ding, I felt a strange sensation. Suddenly, a faint fragrance filled the air, and I quietly watched as red spider lilies drifted through the sky. Isabelle Frost placed a hand on Walter Wang's body and moved slightly. I saw a stream of white and black energy separate—white becoming Walter's soul, black his negative essence. Cracks appeared in the ground.
"Those born on the other shore must return to the bank..."
With a whoosh, the soul and negative essence instantly fell into the cracks in the ground. Xu Fu and Thousand Hands stared at Isabelle Frost in disbelief.
"The cycle of life and death is necessary for humans—it must exist. What you're doing only delays the inevitable. But..."
As Isabelle Frost spoke, wisps of pale red energy drifted around her. Her eyes turned golden-red.
"One day, I will personally send all you wandering souls in the human world back to the bank."