Livestreaming Forbidden Zone: Starting with a Qilin Tattoo Terrifies the Entire Internet

Jiang Han lifted his foot and stepped onto the first step.

"boom!"

It was as if an invisible barrier in the air had been shattered, producing a muffled explosion, and a visible ripple spread outwards from the soles of Jiang Han's feet.

The stone steps beneath his feet suddenly turned dark red, and countless viscous, foul-smelling liquids seeped out from the cracks in the stones, wrapping around Jiang Han's military boots as if they were alive.

That was blood, the resentful blood of countless lives killed on this altar over thousands of years.

"Such heavy resentment."

Jiang Han frowned, but he didn't stop and continued upwards. With each step, the heavy pressure increased, as if he were carrying a mountain on his back.

I started to hallucinate; it was no longer the sound of the wind, but the screams, wails, and curses of countless people.

"Return...return...when will I return...?"

The voice was desolate and tragic, conveying a deep-seated despair.

Jiang Han's vision began to blur. He no longer saw the Mayan pyramids, but a high platform made of bones. Countless people dressed in animal skins and with totems tattooed on their faces were bound hand and foot and pressed down on the steps. Executioners raised their bronze axes and brought their blades down, and heads rolled down the steps to Jiang Han's feet.

The heads were all staring at Jiang Han with their eyes open, muttering, "Take us...home..."

The live stream feed began to distort and blur, with strange static appearing from time to time – this was strong magnetic interference.

"Holy crap! Why is the screen red?"

"Why isn't the streamer moving?"

"Did you hear that? It sounds like someone is crying?"

"Look! Under Jiang Shen's feet! Is that a shadow? Why does it look like a hand?"

Countless black, ghostly hands reached out from the steps, grabbing Jiang Han's ankles and trying to drag him into the endless abyss. These were the resentments of past sacrifices, the protective mechanism of this "meat millstone," for anyone who wanted to reach the top had to pay the ultimate price.

At the foot of the mountain, Old Chen and Team Leader Lei watched this scene with pale faces. Although they couldn't see the illusion, the suffocating sense of oppression made it difficult for them to even breathe.

"Advisor Jiang..." Old Chen tried to call out, his voice trembling, but the sound got stuck in his throat and he couldn't make it out.

Mendoza, who had been left aside, was now so terrified that he soiled himself. He knelt on the ground, kowtowing frantically and chanting in Mayan, "Gods... have mercy... the feathered serpent god has appeared..."

He thought it was the wrath of Quetzalcoatl, but he was wrong. This was not Quetzalcoatl; it was the scrutiny of an older, more powerful force.

Jiang Han stopped in his tracks. He looked down at the ghostly hands that were gripping his ankles and at the illusory heads rolling on the ground. His eyes held no fear, only a trace of sorrow and endless rage.

"Survivors of the Shang Dynasty...is this your fate? Exiled, slaughtered, forgotten, and reduced to these inhuman, ghostly creatures, guarding the gate for a degenerate mudfish?"

Jiang Han's voice was deep and hoarse, yet it carried an undeniable air of authority.

"If you want to go home, then stand up! Don't stand here as a stumbling block!"

boom!

A golden flame erupted from Jiang Han's body; it was the Qilin Fire, extremely yang and powerful, specifically designed to subdue evil spirits.

"roll!"

Jiang Han roared angrily, his voice like thunder, and a huge phantom of a fire unicorn appeared in the void behind him, roaring to the sky.

Roar--

Wherever the sound waves passed, the black ghostly hands, the illusory heads, the screams and wails were all shattered and turned into wisps of black smoke that dissipated into the air. The bloodstains on the steps were also evaporated by the Qilin Fire, revealing the original grayish-white stone.

With the pressure reduced, Jiang Han started walking again. This time he was faster, taking two steps at a time, three steps at a time. He was like a sharp sword piercing through the gloom that shrouded the pyramid, pointing straight to the sky.

[System notification: Host bloodline surge detected!]

[To deter the vengeful spirits of the Yin Shang dynasty!]

[Exploration Points Gained: +50000! Gold Levels Up!!!]

[Life activity in the void below has dropped drastically!]

The offering is dying!

[Please speed up, host!]

The system's warning made Jiang Han's heart sink again. There were still living people below; the captured villagers weren't all dead yet.

"Wait."

Jiang Han gritted his teeth and pressed down harder, leaving deep footprints on the hard stone steps.

When we reached the halfway point of the mountain, a sudden change occurred. The originally flat steps suddenly flipped up, revealing a series of dark holes.

Hiss--

Countless brightly colored venomous snakes emerged from the cave entrance. These were the guardian snakes of the tomb, each one extremely venomous. They flicked their tongues and surged towards Jiang Han like a colorful tide.

The viewers in the live stream felt their scalps tingle and were almost triggered by trypophobia.

"Oh no! So many snakes!"

"How do we get across? Do we fly over?"

"God Jiang, quickly burn it with fire!"

But Jiang Han didn't use fire; he didn't even draw his sword. He merely glanced coldly at the snakes. A savage golden light flashed in his golden eyes.

"A bunch of crawlers, daring to block the way?"

An aura belonging to a superior predator emanated from him; it was the might of a dragon, the aura of the ancestor of all snakes.

The once menacing venomous snakes froze in place the moment they sensed this aura, as if struck by a spell. They began to tremble and retreat, some of the more timid ones bursting to death, while the rest lowered their heads, pressed their heads to the ground, and curled up into a ball—a gesture of submission.

Ten thousand snakes pay homage!

Jiang Han didn't even glance at them, and walked over by stepping on the snakes' bodies as if he were walking on a colorful carpet.

This scene was broadcast live around the world, and countless biologists and herpetologists watching the live stream were so shocked that they jumped up from their chairs.

"This is impossible! This defies common biological sense!"

"Why didn't those snakes bite him? Were they afraid of him? Why?"

"This is simply a miracle!"

Ignoring the commotion outside, Jiang Han walked along while beginning his "explanation," or rather, his revelation, in front of the camera.

"The experts tell you that this is the remains of the Mayan civilization, the temple of Kukulkan. They are right, but they are also wrong."

Jiang Han pointed to the reliefs on both sides of the steps: "Look at these patterns, these are cloud and thunder patterns; look at that beast head, that's a taotie pattern; and this—"

He pointed to a symbol that had been weathered and blurred, "This is the character '辛' in oracle bone script."

"The Maya?" Jiang Han sneered. "They were a group of Shang Dynasty refugees who fled from across the ocean three thousand years ago! They carried hatred and their totems, establishing a new dynasty on this unfamiliar land. They wanted revenge, they wanted to return to the Central Plains, so they built this tower. Not for sacrifices to the heavens, but for... raising corpses!"

Jiang Han finally stood at the top of the pyramid.

The wind on the wide platform grew exceptionally strong, whipping his clothes wildly. He looked down at the endless, boundless jungle below, but beneath that green surface lay endless sin and bloodshed.

Opposite him, a chair had appeared at the entrance of the temple, which had been empty before—a chair made of bones and bronze.

Seated in the chair was a withered humanoid creature, dressed in tattered priest's robes, wearing a golden mask, and holding a still-dripping obsidian dagger. It slowly raised its head, its eyes behind the mask flickering with eerie green flames, staring at Jiang Han.

Then it spoke, its voice hoarse and grating, like two pieces of iron rubbing against each other. But Jiang Han understood it, because it spoke classical Chinese.

"You... smell like that dog."

It refers to the Qilin.