After I stopped trying, a rich woman trained me into a demon emperor.

An old house in the southern part of the city.

A dry well.

When Zhou Ran jumped into the well, the moss on the well wall was dried by the Primordial Blood Qi overflowing from his body. The gray-green moss peeled up and crumbled along the cracks in the bricks.

The sunlight above the wellhead was quickly swallowed up.

A hundred feet down, the well wall disappeared.

All around him was a gray-white turbulent flow, with tiny spatial cracks brushing past the hem of his clothes.

Several slanted turbulent streams cut across my forearm, leaving a few shallow white marks.

A chilling wind rose from beneath my feet, carrying the fishy smell of the Yellow Springs water and the earthy scent of old graves.

The fall lasted a long time, so long that the wellhead above completely lost its sensing capability.

My feet are firmly planted.

He landed on a narrow, black stone path.

The road surface was full of potholes, and the cracks between the stones were filled with grayish-white paper dust.

There were no spider lilies or soul-guiding lamps on either side.

Only two crooked stone pillars stand at the crossroads, their surfaces worn and mottled by the cold wind, with a black stone plaque hanging atop them.

"gate of hell."

Zhou Ran looked up for a moment.

Last time, he crossed the River of Oblivion and the White Bone Bridge, and was directly led into the Third Hall.

Today, after coming down from the dry well in the old house in the south of the city, I found myself on the outskirts of the Gates of Hell.

This place is very different from the entrance to the underworld as described in legends of the mortal world.

The souls of the dead who did not queue to pass through the checkpoint.

There were no ghost messengers carrying iron chains to check the roster.

We didn't see Ox-Head or Horse-Face either.

Only a few palm-sized paper lanterns hung under the stone pillar.

The lantern's skin was blown by the cold wind and stuck to the bamboo frame, with a tiny green flame inside flickering on and off.

The entire checkpoint looked like it had been abandoned for many years.

Zhou Ran stepped into the pass.

Stepping over the stone pillar, the black stone path beneath my feet suddenly widened considerably.

A row of bone banners was inserted on both sides, with the six realms of reincarnation painted on the banners.

The Grand Commander's jade plaque was placed on his chest, and the rules of the underworld did not suppress him.

Last time I entered the underworld, my physical body felt like it was soaking in the mud of the Yellow Springs, and my movements were restricted in every way.

Today is different. The jade tablet suppresses the Yin law, and the surrounding Yin energy avoids it when it comes into contact with it.

After walking a hundred steps forward, Zhou Ran stopped.

There was a firelight thirty feet ahead.

The bonfire was burning the bone banners guarding the Gates of Hell.

Several underworld officials were gathered around the fire, which was burning brightly.

The leader was nearly two zhang tall, with a broad face, bulging eyes, and a crooked iron helmet on his head, with a half-baked plume stuck on the top.

He was holding a piece of charred meat in his hand, which looked a bit like a chicken leg.

But that thing is still making noise.

"Stop howling, it's all cooked."

Big-faced Ghost flipped the thing over, and the oil dripped into the fire, causing flames to leap up and making his bulging eyes shine.

Four different-looking underworld officials sat beside him.

It had a leopard's tail, and its rear end was supported by a prayer mat it had smuggled from the City God Temple. Its tail dragged on the ground, sweeping away the dust.

A bird with a pointed beak.

It has gills on both sides of its neck, which open and close, emitting a fishy smell.

Another one had transparent, thin wings on its back, which vibrated, and was hundreds of times larger than a wasp.

They are the soul-binding messengers of the Night Wanderer and the other four beastmen.

According to the laws of the underworld, they are supposed to patrol the road to the underworld or the mortal realm, apprehend the souls of the dead, and maintain order at the gates of the underworld.

Right now, these guys are tearing down the guard's bone banner and burning it as firewood, and they're even putting some unlucky kid on the fire to roast.

The sixth underworld official sat the furthest away, half of his body pressed against the shadow of the stone pillar.

Zhou Ran only caught a glimpse of a hem of clothing and a grayish-white hand; the rest remained hidden in the shadows.

But the patrolling Yin generals acted as if they hadn't seen anything.

They sat cross-legged around the campfire, whispering to each other.

Zhou Ran did not rush forward, but sat down on the ground and closed his eyes to meditate.

Relying on his understanding of the laws of idealism, he instantly entered a state of 'selflessness'.

His entire consciousness floated into the air, leaving only a dead body in the spot.

"Old Joe, you're the god of the game, so we brothers will listen to you and Brother Wen."

"So, do you think we should continue?"

The leopard's tail has an opening.

That big-faced ghost is also known as the Night Wanderer.

He took a bite of the charred meat, chewed a few times, and spat out a bone.

"What are you doing?"

Leopard Tail pointed to the Gates of Hell behind him.

"On night patrol."

The Night Wanderer rolled his eyes; his pupils were mostly white with little black, giving him a comical yet sinister look.

"Patrol my ass."

Did you receive your salary last month?

Leopard Tail shrank its neck.

Bird Beak chimes in:

"Not sent."

They said they were short of money and would pay in advance.

The good deeds and ghost money were all used for fighting.

Qiao Kun threw the bones he had finished gnawing into the fire.

"I owe, I owe, I owe year after year."

The Night Wanderer removed his helmet, revealing a bald head, and raised his hand to wipe his forehead.

The ghost wasn't sweating; his action was purely out of habit.

"I've been patrolling the Yellow Springs Road for thousands of years, and the amount of ghost money I've accumulated is less than the amount of paper money sold at the entrance of the City God Temple."

People in the mortal world know to burn paper money in bundles, but the King of Hell is as stingy with his stipend as if he were pulling teeth.

The fish opened its gills, and a fishy smell escaped from the gaps in its gills.

"The rebels are offering five times their salary."

The fire crackled and popped.

The Night Wanderer is not surprising.

Clearly, they already knew the terms offered by the rebellious Five Palaces.

Seeing that the Night Wanderer remained silent, the bird beak gave the wasp a wink.

The wasp coughed and leaned forward halfway.

"Brother Qiao, let me tell you the truth."

The brothers of the Fifth Court had already surrendered six months ago.

Both the Black man and the White man have long since achieved financial freedom.

He looked around and lowered his voice.

"Right now, only a few of us are still squatting here."

The Night Wanderer touched his bald head and asked after a long while:

"What can you do with it?"

"Moriyama."

The wasp extended a thin, pointed finger.

"The rebels set up outposts at Evil Dog Ridge and Golden Rooster Mountain, but they were short-handed."

"You'll get a permanent position there, with room and board provided, and you'll even receive good karma."

"Hidden virtue?"

Qiao Kun's two bulging eyes lit up.

"How many?"

"Starting at 100,000."

Qiao Kun swallowed hard.

He patrolled the night for thousands of years, and the accumulated good karma he had accumulated was less than 50,000.

With 100,000 merits laid out before you, anyone would think twice.

The bird's beak suddenly opened:

"But there's a catch."

Qiao Kun looked at him.

"What kind of pit?"

The bird flicked the bone fragments from its fingernails into the fire.

"The rebels have the backing of the Void Realm."

Those blond-haired devils from the mortal realm have also gotten involved, doing some kind of cybernetic modification in the underworld, stuffing our people into metal shells.

Qiao Kun frowned.

"Stuff it into a metal shell?"

"Several of my colleagues who went to Evil Dog Ridge had half of their legs replaced with iron."

The bird spat.

"They say it's to enhance combat strength."

I think they're just using us as guinea pigs.

Qiao Kun's greed was greatly suppressed.

You have a lot of money, but you're also likely to get ripped off.

They had little money and went hungry.

For a ghost messenger to live to this extent is truly shameful.

He fastened his helmet back on and looked around.

"How about we don't rush to take sides?"

Leopard Tail paused for a moment.

"Brother Qiao, what should we do?"

Qiao Kun licked his teeth.

"Hold off the errands here for now, and don't close the door completely over to the rebels."

He patted his chest.

"Whoever gets paid first, we'll work for them first."

The leopard's tail stopped.

"Brother Qiao, isn't this like having your cake and eat it too?"

Qiao Kun raised his hand and slapped him on the back of the head.

"Can't you speak properly?"

He pointed at the leopard's tail and cursed.

"This is called flexible employment."

Several cunning generals by the fire laughed.