The World of the Dead

The atmosphere turned inexplicably melancholic.

Ye Chuan was at a loss for words. After all, he and Gua Xiaotian—Tian Xiaotian—seemed to share a certain destiny; they crossed paths in every weird dungeon. Since Ye Chuan planned to keep entering these dungeons to collect Spirit Essence, their paths might cross again.

But... ten years, thirty years...

If the timeline gap continued to widen, would he ever see Tian Xiaotian again?

Ye Chuan didn't know.

A vague sense of lamentation washed over him.

Silence lingered for a moment before Tian Xiaotian suddenly smiled. "Big Shot, if we get the chance to meet again, let's have a proper drink."

"..."

Tian Xiaotian hefted her sword and continued walking. In reality, their interactions had been sparse, lacking any deep exchange.

Yet, by some unspoken agreement, neither said anything more.

As they pressed on, the surrounding fog grew gradually denser.

"To clear the Plague Town dungeon last time, I had to slay twenty Plague Hosts and locate a medical journal recording the outbreak," Tian Xiaotian said.

"A medical journal? Where did you find it?" Ye Chuan asked.

Tian Xiaotian pointed a finger toward a clock tower in the distance. "Over there. There was an incredibly troublesome monster guarding it. It took quite a bit of effort to take it down."

"Then let's go take a look." With no other leads at the moment, Ye Chuan decided to investigate the area.

They headed in the direction Tian Xiaotian had indicated. As they drew closer, the silhouette of the clock tower emerged from the thick fog, accompanied by a suffocating sense of dread.

The tower loomed like a giant beast hibernating in the mist. Built from blackened bricks and standing over a dozen meters tall, it leaned precariously, looking as if it might collapse at any second.

The crevices of the tower were choked with dark green moss and unidentified black vines. These vines coiled around the structure like venomous snakes; some had even wormed their way through window cracks into the interior, leaving twisted, claw-like marks on the walls.

As Ye Chuan and Tian Xiaotian approached, they noticed the bricks were covered in a dense array of handprints. Some were small, like those of a child, while others were abnormally large with protruding knuckles, appearing to be the marks of some monster.

Most of the prints were a dark, rusty red—likely dried blood—which looked particularly gruesome against the blackened stone.

Hmm... this definitely looked like the setting for a boss battle.

It certainly had the atmosphere.

Ye Chuan withdrew his gaze.

Tian Xiaotian stopped and tightened her grip on her sword. "This is it. Last time I was here, the door was slightly ajar. The monster inside... was ten times harder to deal with than the Director of the Silent Hospital."

Tian Xiaotian had expended a lot of energy dealing with the creature last time, but she had grown stronger since then. Plus, with the Big Shot here, handling the monster shouldn't be too much trouble.

Ye Chuan floated in mid-air, his pitch-black eyes piercing through the dense fog, taking in every detail of the clock tower.

"Let's go. Let's take a look inside," Ye Chuan said. However, he noticed the surrounding fog had become even heavier.

Pushing open the heavy door, Ye Chuan paused. Sensing something, he looked back—

"Melon?"

There was no one behind him.

Tian Xiaotian, who had been following closely, had vanished without a trace. Only the thick fog swirled around him; even her aura had been completely erased.

Ye Chuan narrowed his eyes, hovering motionless in place.

The faint sounds of wind and rustling vines he had heard earlier were gone. The surroundings were dead silent, save for the sound of his own breathing.

He raised his hand to release his Divine Consciousness, but found that as soon as it probed the fog, it was blocked by an invisible force, unable to spread outward.

This wasn't an illusion.

Ye Chuan was confident he wouldn't be so easily swayed by hallucinations.

Could it be...

Is this the Inner World?

The so-called Inner World was often described as a parallel dimension opposite to the real world. Ye Chuan had never seen it before, so this was merely a conjecture.

He looked back at the clock tower door in front of him—

Strange symbols had suddenly appeared on the door panel, glowing with an eerie red light. The black slime oozing from the cracks flowed faster, pooling on the ground into tiny rivulets that snaked toward the depths of the fog.

The door had been slightly ajar a moment ago, but now it was tightly shut. The dried hair wrapped around the door handle seemed to come alive, swaying slightly.

At that moment, faint, shuffling footsteps echoed from the fog behind him.

Ye Chuan turned around to see several figures slowly emerging from the mist. They wore tattered white hospital gowns, their bodies festering and oozing pus—Plague Hosts.

However, they had no facial features, looking exactly like the flesh-colored monster he had encountered earlier.

"..." The Plague Hosts emitted raspy groans as they closed in on Ye Chuan.

Their movements were stiff yet swift. They reached out with rotting arms, yellow pus dripping from their fingertips.

Ye Chuan remained calm, a beam of light shooting from his fingertip.

But the moment the beam hit a Plague Host, its body dissolved into a cloud of mist, only to reform a few meters away a second later, still in its festering state.

"Oh? Not resurrection, but a movement technique?" Ye Chuan realized quickly.

The anomalies here were rooted in the dense fog; ordinary attacks couldn't completely destroy them.

"If that's the case, then just stay put." As Ye Chuan's voice fell, the Plague Hosts were enveloped by an invisible force, forcibly frozen in place.

"Gurgle... Roar..." The Plague Hosts struggled, but could not move.

Ye Chuan blasted open the clock tower door in front of him and stepped inside.

Darkness greeted him. Aside from a stone staircase leading up, there were a few broken wooden tables and chairs. However, what caught Ye Chuan's attention were several tattered scraps of paper.

He picked them up and glanced through them—

[They're back, everyone is back... It's true, the dead have returned in the mist! Hahahaha!]

[Oh heavens, this is a blessing from God!]

[The crazy old woman next door actually said we are living in the world of the dead, so I strangled her to death! Hahahaha!]

[Baby, we will be together forever...]

[I hope this isn't all a dream.]

Ye Chuan: "..."

A world of the dead?

Ye Chuan stowed the papers away.

Just then, a chaotic noise drifted down from upstairs.

Ye Chuan's figure flickered, and he instantly appeared at the top of the clock tower.

Looking out from there, he saw nothing but a sea of fog with buildings faintly visible within it, along with strange, shifting shadows.

Of course, Ye Chuan didn't care about any of that. He raised his head to look straight ahead, toward the source of the noise.

A figure stood there.

However, the moment he saw the person, Ye Chuan froze. "You..."

The figure was dressed in Daoist robes. Although the skin was festering, the features were recognizable.

"Qin Tianya?" Seeing that familiar face, Ye Chuan was dumbfounded.

Wait, where the hell did you pop out from?

This isn't the Tianxuan Continent!