Tomorrow is the day to present gifts to King Hollowbelly. The gifting will last for many days, until every ghost in the city has made their offering. Not only the ghosts in the city, but even King Hollowbelly's subordinates must bring gifts.
This puzzled me greatly. After spending two days in the Blue Lotus Brothel, my hostility toward Jerry Li had faded. He truly seemed here just for pure pleasure, indulging himself daily in wine, food, and women.
Over half of the hundred-plus female ghosts in the brothel had already visited. At this moment, Jerry Li emerged from his room, breathless, and sat down, resuming his eating and drinking as the dishes were brought out again.
This guy seemed rather witty. Over the past two days, he’d occasionally chat with me, mostly about matters between men and women. He looked like a typical lecher, but not quite—more like a learned young noble from ancient times.
"By the way, Ethan Zhang, I’ve noticed you haven’t eaten or drunk anything these past two days. Aren’t you hungry?"
I shook my head. Jerry Li looked at me, then smiled.
"Eating, drinking, and pleasure are normal needs for people—and for ghosts, too. A life without them is meaningless!"
I didn’t reply to Jerry Li. Those things had long left me behind. Without emotion, everything was tasteless. Now, my mind held only the Four Sacred Realm.
"Let me guess, the reason for your misery is... a woman."
Jerry Li watched me for a long time. I didn’t respond, so he kept talking.
"No answer? I’ll take that as a yes, then. Heh."
Suddenly, Jerry Li put on a melancholy expression. I couldn’t help but look at him in confusion.
"I once had a happy time, gathering with a bunch of interesting people—eating, drinking, fighting, indulging in everything. But now, no matter how much I let myself go, I can’t recapture that old joy. Sigh."
"What about those people?"
I asked. Jerry Li let out a long sigh, lifted the wine jug, and drank deeply. With a bang, he set the jug down, his face flushed with drunkenness.
"Now, I don’t even know where those comrades who fought and bled with me are, what they’re doing, who they’ve met, what they’ve done, or if they’re even alive. Forget it—let’s just keep drinking."
After drinking for a while, Jerry Li, now thoroughly drunk, clapped his hands. Soon, three female ghosts who had been waiting came up, laughing as they carried Jerry Li into the neighboring room.
Gradually, two figures came to mind—Allen Zhang and Soren Black. Both were former subordinates of John Chou, and they resembled this guy in front of me. Four words: wandering cranes. They drifted between the living and ghost realms, roaming the world, unbound by anything, free as can be.
"No way."
I muttered as I walked toward the balcony. These past two days, I’d often noticed people keeping watch over the brothel—subordinates of that pickpocket. I hadn’t left the Blue Lotus Brothel once, nor did I plan to tell the pickpocket anything about Jerry Li. None of this concerned me.
At that moment, I saw another pair of Hell's Registrars approaching from afar. There were many of them, and the leader was strong, radiating fierce energy. Like the others, his appearance was indistinguishable—his black cheeks looked as if they’d been scorched by fire, full of deep grooves.
It was that pickpocket, grinning as he followed alongside. I knew things were about to go wrong, so I hurried to the door and knocked. But the sounds inside continued. I pushed the door open—what I saw was indecent. Jerry Li was still indulging himself, oblivious to everyone else.
"You’re in trouble again. You’d better leave soon."
Just as I finished speaking, screams erupted downstairs, followed by the sound of many footsteps rushing up. Jerry Li kept on with his pleasures.
"Let them wait. Whatever it is, it can wait until I’m done here."
"Come out."
A furious shout rang out. The Hell's Registrar came up and, without warning, kicked the door open. He looked surprised, then laughed, sat down at the table, and started drinking.
"Kid, I didn’t expect you to be so capable."
Jerry Li finally came out, sweating profusely, and sat down, taking a sip of wine.
"What’s the matter?"
"A few days ago when you first arrived, you got into a fight with a ghost. That’s against the law here. Hand over your money and come with us."
Two Hell's Registrars immediately came over and searched Jerry Li thoroughly, finding quite a bit of money. Then they chained him up. He smiled at me.
"Looks like this pleasure has turned into punishment."
Jerry Li was taken away. No witnesses, no evidence, nothing at all.
"He’s only been at the Blue Lotus Brothel since he arrived a few days ago. Anyone here can vouch for that. Who did he even fight with?"
I chased to the doorway, shouting. Jerry Li smiled and shook his head, signaling me not to get involved.
A hand grabbed me and pulled me back. The Hell's Registrars escorted Jerry Li away. It was the pickpocket, grinning slyly, his eyes cold.
"Brother, there’s nothing in this world that money can’t solve. Why don’t you come work with me?"
I shook my head, but when I tried to leave, the pickpocket gripped my shoulder tightly. The coldness in his eyes shifted, tinged with anger. I didn’t know how much he’d bribed those Hell's Registrars, but I’d never join up with someone like him.
Suddenly, I grabbed the pickpocket’s hand. He moved quickly, trying to snatch the Spirit Pearl from my chest. He stared at me in astonishment.
"Kid, do you believe..."
"Get lost."
I said coldly. The pickpocket immediately let go of my hand, backing away several steps, trembling all over. In that instant, I released the killing intent within me, separating it completely from my baleful aura. The pickpocket was so startled he just stared dumbly as I walked away.
I didn’t want trouble before handing over my money, so I left the southeastern area and found a random inn in the north to stay, waiting for tomorrow’s grand ceremony.
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I just wanted to leave quickly—or maybe I wanted to escape this place. All the ghosts here were crazy. Beneath the seemingly peaceful surface, there was something far crueler than war.
Only Jerry Li was different—he was the only ghost here I’d seen who stood apart. He’d come to this flashy city just to enjoy himself. Though I worried a bit, seeing how relaxed he was, he probably had a way to handle things.
Early the next morning, all the ghosts in the city gathered on the streets like a tide, lining up with gold, silver, jewels, or money in hand, heading toward Hollowbelly Manor in the west.
The streets were packed, but the ghosts queued in an orderly fashion. I blended in among them, listening to their constant talk about the gifting ritual.
King Hollowbelly had a strange habit—he would eat gold, silver, jewels, money, and anything valuable. Any ghost who went to see him had to bring a gift. Otherwise, if he was displeased, their life would be forfeit.
I couldn’t understand why the Underworld would allow someone like him to exist. The queue would take days to move—after half a day, we’d barely advanced. Though I’d picked a spot closer to the front, it was still painfully slow.
Just then, several Hell's Registrars flew overhead, ordering those with red badges to move left and others to make way.
Soon I saw the grand gates of Hollowbelly Manor. Ghosts who’d just arrived yesterday walked in grinning. I followed through the gates—a broad white stone avenue lined with gilded pillars, each adorned with colorful gems arranged in ornate patterns, the height of luxury.
In the distance was a massive palace, its roof topped with a huge pixiu, mouth agape and covered in dazzling gems, all gold and glitter.
"Only in, never out. Sigh."
Someone ahead muttered. I looked closely—the pixiu really was 'only in, never out.' Its belly was round and bulging, as if it would swallow anything.
Soon I could see the palace’s interior clearly—a vast, glittering hall, luxuriously appointed. On a huge golden chair sat King Hollowbelly, his body bloated with fat, resting his chin in his hand, watching ghosts present their tributes to the Underworld Magistrate with utter boredom.
Most ghosts offered Spirit Notes, but when gold was presented, a glint appeared in King Hollowbelly’s eyes. Gifts piled up beside the throne, forming a small mountain.
"My lord, would you care to eat something first, to refresh yourself?"
Beside King Hollowbelly stood an Underworld Magistrate in purple robes, sporting a thin mustache and a slick, cunning look.
"This little bit isn’t enough to fill the gap between my teeth! Hurry up."
There were only a dozen or so ghosts ahead of me. I clenched the Spirit Pearl in my hand.
Finally, it was my turn. I walked up, and two Underworld Magistrates approached. I held the Spirit Pearl in both hands and offered it. Instantly, King Hollowbelly’s eyes lit up with intense excitement.
"A fine thing."
My heart skipped a beat as King Hollowbelly suddenly stood up. His two-meter-tall, massively obese body, with rolls of fat glistening, made a thunderous noise with each step.
"Such a high-density Spirit Pearl—ha, it’s rare in this world! Ha ha!"
Watching King Hollowbelly’s delighted face, I saw him lick his lips, drooling. I stood quietly by, then smiled and asked:
"Your Majesty, this is a family heirloom. I’m glad it pleases you. I have one request—I hope Your Majesty will allow me to travel to the living world."
"Anything at all! Ha ha ha..."
I finally breathed a sigh of relief, but just as the two Underworld Magistrates were about to lead me away, King Hollowbelly suddenly widened his eyes, staring at the Spirit Pearl.