The road ahead grew steeper and steeper, but Scarlet Ghost kept leading me upward.
My mind was tangled with complicated thoughts. According to Scarlet, the ghost realms surrounding the Underworld are now in utter chaos. This place, once called the Barrens among the old Eight Realms of Hell, has lost all restraint, and the Underworld seems unwilling to intervene.
I heard that back in the day, Quinn Lee, Lord Wraith, and the Ghost Monk would occasionally send gifts to King Hollowbelly. But now, with the disorder, even more people come bearing gifts.
Now, the Underworld has left all matters concerning the surrounding ghost realms to King Hollowbelly, even granting him some authority to freely travel around the borders and suppress chaos as he pleases.
Unless something truly major happens, the Ten Wraith Marshals are forbidden from entering the Underworld's borders without good reason.
"Those three powerful Blue Wraiths have fallen from grace too. That was your doing, wasn't it, Quinn?"
I stopped. Scarlet Ghost turned to look at me and smiled. I nodded.
"There was some history between us. But how do you know so much, when you’re supposed to be on Mount Shade?"
Scarlet Ghost just smiled.
"I’m not always stuck on Mount Shade. Sometimes I wander the ghost realms—after all, I’ve been here long enough."
Scarlet Ghost turned away, a sly glint in his eyes. I grew wary of him; his knowledge about the Blue Wraiths was precise, and he seemed to know the current state of the Underworld and the ghost realms far too well.
"Are you doubting me, Quinn?"
Scarlet Ghost asked, and I nodded.
"We’ve crossed paths, you and I. Just remember this—unless there’s a clash of interests or vengeance, we won’t become enemies. I don’t intend to take anything from you, and you won’t get much from me either."
I gave a noncommittal grunt. Scarlet Ghost led me down a steep mountain path. This place—Mount Shade, full of unknowns and ghosts—I decided I’d ask Old Wei and Hong Shi about it when I got back.
Gradually, the slope leveled out. Scarlet Ghost stopped and pointed at the only main road ahead.
"From here, you’re on your own, Quinn. I’ll take you no further."
I nodded and thanked him. Already, I could feel it—the fog-shrouded road below was thick with ghostly energy, but none of it felt strong. The nearest was only a few kilometers away.
Scarlet Ghost waved at me. I glanced at him one last time, then stepped onto the main road. Dense mist still curled all around. I watched my footing carefully.
The mist thinned out. The road beneath me was flat. Suddenly, I stopped at a mountain cliff and swallowed hard—there was no way down. But below, a wide road stretched out, bustling with voices. Many ghosts, burdened with large and small bundles, trudged along. Peering down, I saw a gorge so deep it seemed bottomless.
I kept scanning my surroundings. There were no Hell's Registrars here; the sky was blazing red. To my right, the Scorching Inferno loomed, while to my left—apart from one wide, straight road and a distant smear of black-green in the sky—there was nothing.
Many ghosts below chatted and laughed. Some wore finer clothes. I watched closely—there wasn’t a single Blue Wraith among them. I took a deep breath and, with a whoosh, flew down from the cliff, landing on the road without attracting any attention.
"Finally, I’ve saved up enough. Now I can go to the world of the living."
An old ghost beside me spoke up—a Shade Ghost. Some ghosts chose to walk rather than float. This was Underworld territory, where the density of ghostly energy was high, except for the air along this road.
I’d felt it before in the world of shadows—surviving in high-density ghost aura is dangerous. These low-ranking ghosts would get burned by the aura if they tried to fly.
I joined the crowd, a long procession of ghosts stretching behind me, countless figures shuffling forward.
Listening to their conversations, I realized life around the Underworld had grown harsh. The tougher ghosts formed gangs, looting and even devouring weaker spirits to grow stronger.
It all started after Lord Wraith fell. He once ruled these lands, but after his decline, Quinn Lee and the Ghost Monk wanted nothing to do with such distant territories, leaving them to chaos.
Suddenly, shouts erupted ahead. Several dark figures wielding broad knives grabbed a thin, young man carrying a bundle.
"What are you doing? If you fight here, then..."
"Hand it over, or we’ll kill you."
None of the ghosts intervened—they just kept walking, even edging away. I drifted closer; some dark figures and Shade Ghosts watched from the sidelines.
There were three dark figures, fierce and menacing. The thin young ghost was just a Shade Ghost. Reluctantly, he let go of his bundle, offering no resistance, then turned away, eyes brimming with frustration and loss.
The three dark figures burst out laughing, their eyes scanning the crowd, sizing up what others carried.
Most of the crowd traveled in groups. I had no time to meddle—I didn’t want to draw attention. But soon I realized the three dark figures had locked onto me. To these low-ranking ghosts, my aura marked me as a Whitecoat Wraith, and I carried a large bundle.
"Kid, hand it over, or we’ll kill you."
One of the dark figures brandished a broad knife at me. I stared them down coldly. Scarlet Ghost had warned me more than once: do not cause trouble here. This was Underworld territory, and we were close to Styx Gate. If I blew my cover, the enforcers from Styx Gate would swarm in an instant.
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Immediately, two of the dark figures reached for my cloth bundle.
"What’s inside?"
With a ripping sound, my bundle was torn open. Gold and silver jewelry scattered across the ground. Instantly, the nearby ghosts widened their eyes and rushed in to snatch what they could.
"Damn it, anyone who tries to steal from me, I’ll kill them."
Chaos erupted. Quick as lightning, I grabbed a large pearl and left. The fight for gold and silver drew in every ghost nearby, turning the scene into a brawl.
I hurried away, wanting nothing more than to escape this mess. I spotted the young man who’d lost his bundle—he now held a small package, running off with a grin.
"Catch that kid! He stole my bundle!"
An old ghost shouted from behind, but no one cared. Even his companions joined the scramble for gold and silver.
A scream rang out—a ghost’s hand was chopped off. Another ghost snatched up the severed hand and pried loose a gold necklace from its grip.
I hurried on. Something felt wrong. I sensed a powerful surge of ghostly energy flying toward us down the road.
The ghosts’ faces changed instantly. The looting stopped. Many collapsed to the ground. I dropped down too. A flash of red light swept past.
"Ha ha ha! I hear the sound of gold. Gold is a wonderful thing—the sound is so beautiful! Ha ha ha, all the gold is mine!"
The red glow overhead faded. I swallowed hard. There, floating above, was a grotesquely fat figure in lavish robes studded with gems. His clothes shimmered with gold and silver thread. With a wave, he reduced the looters to ashes. Silence fell. Every ghost knelt or lay flat, not daring to make a sound.
Crunching sounds echoed. I swallowed again as the fat figure scooped up gold and silver jewelry, stuffing it into his mouth, chewing noisily, and swallowing it down as if it were food.
"Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Anything that falls on my territory must be handed over. If you dare keep it for yourself, I’ll kill you. Go on, keep moving. I’ll be waiting over there. Remember, tribute must be paid in full, or you’ll die."
His greasy voice was repulsive, just like his whole being. As he floated up, his belly wobbled, the fat on his face jiggled, and his eyes glimmered with a golden light.
"That’s King Hollowbelly," someone whispered.
I muttered, watching King Hollowbelly leave. The ghosts rose, terrified, but kept walking. In that instant, over a hundred ghosts had died.
I gripped the large pearl and kept moving. The road stretched on endlessly—I had no idea when I’d reach the end. But I noticed the ghosts ahead had slowed down.
Gradually, everyone stopped, as if lining up. It took ages for the line to move.
"All who enter must pay."
A checkpoint appeared ahead. Two Hell's Registrars—one tall, one short—shouted at the crowd. Their ghostly energy was above Wraith level, probably beginner Blue Wraiths. The passing ghosts were clearly afraid of them.
I was surprised. I checked my hand—I had only the pearl left. The gold necklace was gone. I was stunned. Who could have stolen it from me without a trace?
My turn was coming up. I looked around nervously. With only a pearl in hand, if I paid, I’d have nothing left.