Chapter Seventeen: The Underworld Soul Reaping Bureau

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Those two guys standing before him were obviously nothing good!

Once the terror passed, an overwhelming desire to survive took hold. Wan Yi cursed, clenched his fist, channeled his magical power, and swung at one of them!

The result was tragic.

Either one of the two across from him possessed a cultivation far higher than his own.

With only one exchange, Wan Yi was utterly powerless to fight back and was pinned to the ground, getting thoroughly beaten!

One of the ghosts looked at Wan Yi, who was being held down by his companion, and let out a sinister cackle.

Then he flipped his hand, and a black-covered book appeared in his palm.

Wan Yi looked up, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

Written prominently across the cover of the black book were the words: The Book of Life and Death.

“Fuck your ancestors! Are you shooting a damn ghost movie here?!”

The ghost gave Wan Yi a disdainful glance. Then, with great solemnity, he opened the book, and a hoarse voice rang out.

“Wan Yi. Male. Disciple of the Vast Sect. Twenty years old. His allotted lifespan has now ended. He is to enter the Netherworld and be reincarnated!”

With that, he closed the black book and flicked his arm forward. A pitch-black chain clattered out from his sleeve.

“Soul reaping!”

As his voice rang out, the black chain seemed to come alive. It writhed and twisted as it shot toward Wan Yi’s chest.

At its tip was a curved hook shaped like a sickle.

Under Wan Yi’s horrified gaze, the enormous hook plunged directly into his body.

Immediately afterward, the other man gave the chain a hard pull and drew the hook back.

Wan Yi was completely dumbfounded. He had thought that first strike would certainly kill him. Yet even though he had watched the iron hook enter his body, he had felt nothing—and had not suffered so much as a scratch!

At the same time, Wan Yi was not the only one left staring in bewilderment.

The ghost cultivator opposite him was also rather stunned. He raised the soul-reaping chain in his hand and examined it carefully for quite some time before hurling it at Wan Yi again.

“Soul reaping!”

Seeing this, Wan Yi was so frightened that his backside clenched tight.

But the result was exactly the same as before. He was completely unharmed. He had not even felt any pain!

The ghost cultivator flew into a rage. Growing increasingly frustrated, he threw the soul-reaping chain at Wan Yi once more.

“Soul reaping!”

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“Soul reaping!”

“I’ll reap your soul again!”

....................

After repeating this several times, Wan Yi, who was being held down on the ground, could take it no longer.

Having no idea what the other man was trying to accomplish, he said in a trembling voice, “Big brother, why don’t you just strangle me to death? This is fucking terrifying!”

The ghost cultivator holding Wan Yi down also looked at his companion in confusion.

“Old Ma, what are you doing? If you want to play around, this really isn’t the time!”

The ghost cultivator known as Old Ma looked at the soul-reaping chain in his hand and complained, “Play around? My ass! I can’t pull this kid’s soul out!”

The ghost cultivator restraining Wan Yi frowned after hearing this, then said, “Forget it. We’re almost out of time. We’ll just take his physical body back to the Netherworld.”

With that, he continued holding Wan Yi down with one hand while pulling out a palm-sized iron yoke with the other.

The yoke expanded as soon as it met the wind. In an instant, it grew from the size of a palm to the size of a human face.

Then it split into two halves and snapped shut around Wan Yi’s neck with a loud crack.

Wan Yi felt as though he had become one of those prisoners from ancient costume dramas, his neck and both hands locked firmly together by the yoke.

Only then did he lose his nerve. Looking at the two ghost cultivators, he said in a trembling voice, “Gentlemen, isn’t there some kind of misunderstanding? I’m a good person!”

To his surprise, the two ghost cultivators burst into laughter.

Then they said in sinister voices, “Good people die even faster!”

One of them pulled on the iron chain attached to the yoke and dragged Wan Yi along like a dog.

“Good man, I suggest you save your strength. You can explain yourself to the Warden of Hell when we see him later!”

With that, he sliced a hand through the space before them. A crack in space appeared out of thin air before the three of them.

Before Wan Yi could react, the two men dragged him inside.

The next instant, the spatial rift vanished. The thatched hut became utterly empty, as if nothing had ever happened there. Only its former occupant had disappeared without a trace.

Being led along like a dog, Wan Yi felt his vision blur. When his sight cleared again, he found himself in a vast, hazy world.

He looked up. The sky was gray-white, devoid of the sun, moon, or stars, filled only with endless chaos.

Gray mist swirled all around them, and visibility extended no more than a hundred paces.

He was now inside a city. The buildings lining the streets, as well as the clothes worn by the pedestrians, were all limited to shades of black, white, and gray.

While he was still trying to comprehend what he was seeing, someone shoved him from behind.

“Move along, my good man. The Warden of Hell is waiting for you!”

The shove nearly sent Wan Yi stumbling. Once he regained his footing, he discovered that a government office stood directly before him.

On either side of the office entrance stood a statue of a ferocious beast with a hideous face.

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The vermilion doors stood out painfully against this world of black, white, and gray.

Looking up, Wan Yi saw a large plaque hanging above the entrance, its inscription painted in gold: The Soul-Reaping Office.

By now, the two ghost officers were clearly growing impatient. One on each side, they dragged Wan Yi into the Soul-Reaping Office.

After passing through a corridor and entering the main hall, Wan Yi saw that a man was already seated inside.

The man stood well over six feet tall. He had a powerful build and dark skin, a leopard-shaped head, tiger-like eyes, thick brows that swept into his temples, heavy lips, an upturned nose, and a face covered in a tangled beard.

Looking lower, Wan Yi saw that the man wore a blood-red cloak. His chest was bare, exposing a mass of fierce muscles. A broad swath of chest hair nearly a handspan wide made Wan Yi grimace.

What the hell is this guy—a divine beast?

The man in the hall also noticed the three newcomers.

He had originally been smiling, but the instant he saw the yoke around Wan Yi’s neck, his expression changed completely.

“Bastards!”

With an angry roar, he smashed the teacup in his hand and hurried over to them.

Without saying another word, he raised his hand and struck.

Two sharp slaps sent the two ghost officers escorting Wan Yi sprawling to the floor.

Then he pointed at them and cursed, “I told you to invite this young brother here! Who told you to reap his soul?! Take that yoke off him this instant!”

The two ghost officers knew they had made a mistake and did not dare answer back. They scrambled to their feet and quickly removed the yoke from Wan Yi.

At the same time, they repeatedly apologized.

“Brother Wan Yi, the two of us misunderstood the Warden of Hell’s orders. Please don’t blame us, sir. We beg you not to hold it against us!”

Wan Yi’s mind was completely muddled, as though it had been filled with paste.

Still utterly bewildered, he thought, What kind of absurd situation is this?! Who am I? Where am I?!

At that moment, the man known as the Warden of Hell exclaimed, “Huh? You’re not a soul?”

The two ghost officers hurriedly explained, “My lord, we couldn’t pull Brother Wan Yi’s soul out!”

The Warden threw back his head and laughed.

“Hahaha! As expected, young brother, you’re no ordinary man!”

Coming back to his senses, Wan Yi rubbed his aching neck and wrists. Then he looked coldly at the Warden of Hell.

“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

To be continued...