Arriving at the edge of the desert, I gazed at the Graveyard Desert ahead. It looked calm and peaceful, but having entered it before, I knew well that the sandstorms here could be deadly. Fortunately, I am now a ghost.
"There's really not much inside," he said. "I've seen it before—it's basically just a dump."
I let out a surprised sound and looked at Allen Zhang. He stepped in ahead of me, so I quickly followed. The moment I entered, I felt as if I were suddenly liberated; with a whoosh, I floated up. From Allen Zhang's body, a surge of powerful ghost energy erupted.
With a whoosh, he transformed into a ball of green light and flew right up to me, stretching lazily.
"Let's go. Sigh, it's been centuries since I've really stretched my legs."
Saying that, Allen Zhang led me as we flew into the Graveyard Desert. I could feel that my Specter Web was extremely confused here.
"It's better not to use your Specter Web lightly. After all, the trash here isn't just ghost-related—even things we can't identify end up dumped here."
I made a sound of surprise. Allen Zhang explained to me that this desert was actually a massive waste disposal site, and for good reason: the wind always blew toward the center. As long as you threw the garbage produced in the Ghostrealm into this desert, it would be fine.
Most of the building materials in the Ghostrealm are formed from long-accumulated yin energy. Once they're damaged, you simply find new materials and ghost craftsmen to make replacements. The broken stuff gets discarded right away.
In the past, things were thrown away carelessly, but over time, a problem arose: the trash produced by ghosts, after a long period, would generate a stench that even ghosts didn't want to approach. That Bitterwater Pool near Half-Step Town, also called Deadwater Pool, was born this way.
If a ghost absorbs too much of this gas, it can cause symptoms similar to human poisoning—even threatening the ghost's soul. In severe cases, they might turn to ash and die instantly.
I blinked, surprised that garbage could be so dangerous. I had to admire Old Nine for surviving so long in the Stagnant Pool alone. Luckily, I was human back then.
Allen Zhang explained that, in the past, there was a large lake next to Midway Town, home to edible ghost fish. But over time, ghosts dumped huge amounts of trash into it, leading to these problems. Eventually, almost all the ghosts in the Barrens started throwing their waste into the Graveyard Desert.
In the living world, there are now professional cleaning companies that handle ghost-generated trash left behind. They collect it, bring it to the Ghostrealm, and dispose of it—usually just by dumping it.
Suddenly, I remembered that I once applied to a ghost company—a cleaning company, in fact. I even worked there for a few days.
This is an Underworld Court regulation: ghost-produced trash can harm humans, so now many ghosts work in the cleaning industry. The Underworld Court gives them special permission, making things very convenient.
Most of the time, the solution is to dump trash in places where no ghosts live.
I finally understood—the Graveyard Desert is definitely a natural garbage dump. But apart from the swirling yellow sand, I couldn't see anything else. Allen Zhang kept sniffing around, searching for something.
"Let's check the center first. If Brother Owen's Jialan Lotus Seat is connected to this place, its only real use might be waste disposal."
We flew incredibly fast. Suddenly, I stopped and looked down—it was the same type of stone we'd seen last time in the Graveyard Desert. Rufina Howard had once examined them and confirmed they were ghosts.
"What's wrong?"
I looked down; Allen Zhang smiled.
"What's there to see in these things?"
I shook my head and drifted down, this time releasing my Specter Web to inspect.
There was indeed a ghostly aura, but no ghost soul. This shocked me—clearly possessing the Thirteen Ghost Gates, yet lacking a soul, incomplete and entirely without consciousness.
A rumbling sound echoed as these black stone ghosts began to roll, swept up by the wind and sand, rolling away in large clusters.
"Let's go, there's nothing worth seeing."
Allen Zhang kept sniffing the air. I realized it was impossible to tell directions here, except for some stones buried in the sand that could serve as landmarks. Last time, we only managed to find the Wailing Maiden's Den using the landmarks Lee Four marked on the map.
"Hurry up, Ethan Zhang. At your pace, it'll take days to reach the center."
I made a sound of acknowledgment and sped up. Allen Zhang quickly flew in front of me, releasing strands of Specter Web that wrapped around mine, seemingly to keep me from losing my way.
Gradually, I began to see something black in the yellow sand—and I could smell it too. It was like the stench of a dead rat, but even stronger.
"Seal all your Ghost Gates, Ethan Zhang."
Allen Zhang instructed, and I immediately complied, using my Specter Web to seal all Thirteen Ghost Gates inside my body. It felt a little more comfortable.
The smell was like socks that hadn't been washed for days, soaked and mixed with the stench of dead rats—only worse.
I couldn't take it anymore; my head was spinning. Below, there were huge patches of black stuff—I couldn't tell what it was, but some pieces looked like stones, parts of houses, clothes, cars, TVs, refrigerators, everything imaginable. I dared not fly lower and instead ascended. The stench was so overpowering, I could barely continue flying.
"Hold on. If anything's here, the center might be the best place to look."
At that moment, I saw bubbles rising from the ground, from the muddy-looking black stuff. Then a round object appeared—it was one of those stone ghosts, floating up and drifting away.
"Those things are born here. They just follow the wind. The wind here blows from the center outward, circling around and eventually returning here."
I explained that I'd seen these things before—growing arms and legs, attacking us. But that time, it was my cousin's hand that got cut and bled. Maybe they're not fully ghosts, but they still sense human blood.
My head was spinning, feeling worse and worse, waves of nausea washing over me.
"Found it, haha."
Allen Zhang suddenly stopped. When I did too, I had to fly even higher. At some point, a massive Azure Gate had appeared among the black debris.
Covering my mouth and pinching my nose, I flew over with Allen Zhang.
"Over two hundred years ago, I came here once. Back then, this gate wasn't here. Haha, Brother Owen must be scheming something."
As we got closer, I saw the gate was at least thirty meters tall. Between the doors were rows of black beads, each the size of a fist, densely arranged. These were used by the Renegade Monks for communication.
But I was at my limit—I could only stare at the gate, unable to look away.
Then, with a creak, the Azure Gate opened. Streams of colored energy burst out, and instantly, I sensed emotions—sorrow, anger, greed, destruction—all belonging to ghosts.
Amazed, I watched as these multicolored energies flew out and immediately sank into the black debris below. The gate then shut again.
"It's bizarre, almost fascinating. How did Brother Owen manage to strip those negative emotions from the ghosts? Haha, that guy always has something up his sleeve."
Allen Zhang laughed. We waited for the gate to open again. After all, this place should be connected to the Jialan Lotus Platform, but getting caught inside would be disastrous.
"If you don't want to be noticed by higher-level ghosts—or even ones at your level—there's a trick, Ethan Zhang."
I looked at Allen Zhang with gratitude.
"No one really knows why ghost souls are born, but one thing is certain: a ghost soul forms when a person's soul dies with resentment and absorbs too much yin energy. You've seen those ghost monks, right?"
I nodded, still somewhat confused as I looked at Allen Zhang.
"This method was developed by John Chou. It's simple: compress all the yin energy in your body. No matter how strong your Specter Web is, unless someone stabs it directly into your ghost soul and checks that hidden yin energy, you won't be detected."
As he spoke, I saw Allen Zhang transform into a ghost monk. His ghost aura dropped sharply. Some ghost monks wore white, some wore yellow, but most were just fierce ghosts. Only Brother Owen's eight disciples were Blue Wraiths.
Now, when I extended my Specter Web to sense Allen Zhang, I found he was just a Grayheart. Even when I stabbed my Specter Web into his body, his ghost soul was still a Grayheart—very fragile.
"Ghosts are yin, humans are yang. Yin energy is essential for ghosts. Even if you can't do it now, your ghost soul should be able to."
Excited, I nodded, finally understanding what to do. I closed my eyes, and gradually my appearance changed—I became a ghost monk.