Seeing her like this,
"Ahhhhh—!" Old Liu couldn't help but scream uncontrollably.
Old Wang frowned. "Who are you?"
How dare you come here pretending to be a ghost!
"Me? Of course, I'm a ghost," the white-haired woman said with a grin, opening her blood-red mouth wide. "You didn’t know, did you? This is our headquarters."
"Look," the woman pointed around.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The banging sounds from the eight coffins erupted one after another.
The coffin lids were thrown to the ground.
Then, the people lying inside the eight coffins actually stood up.
Each of their faces was a ghastly mix of blue and white, their complexions as pale as paper.
They looked utterly terrifying.
Old Liu trembled uncontrollably. "Ghosts... they're all ghosts!"
His legs shook violently, and even urine dripped down his pants.
"Do you know who this is?" The woman pointed at the man who had been lying on the ground. "His name is Lin Xuan."
"He has strong yang energy—perfect for me to absorb. I wonder how much yang energy you all have?"
"With so many of you, we’ll have a feast tonight!"
The woman began to cackle wildly.
Lin Xuan...
Old Wang suddenly turned his gaze to the man lying on the ground.
That face—it really was Lin Xuan’s!
He had thought these ghosts were all part of Lin Xuan’s scheme to scare them.
But Lin Xuan was actually dead...
"Now it’s your turn," the white-haired woman in white robes stared at them intently.
The eight figures from the coffins also moved toward them—no, floated toward them.
Each of their faces was illuminated by an eerie white light.
The factory echoed with sinister, ghostly sounds.
The scene amplified their fear a thousandfold.
"Ahhhhhh!"
Old Liu and the others scrambled toward the exit in panic.
But the door was shut tight—they couldn’t open it no matter how hard they tried.
And it was their only way out.
"You can’t escape," the woman floated toward them slowly. "The moment you stepped onto this floor, your fate was sealed."
"Just be good... and stay here as our meal."
"Hahahaha—!"
The woman laughed arrogantly again.
Suddenly—
The factory lights went out, plunging the entire floor into darkness.
Old Liu, Old Wang, and the others found their phones inexplicably shut off.
No matter how they tried, they couldn’t turn them back on.
Then—
A cold fist struck one of their faces.
Followed by another.
And another.
"Ahhhh—!" Screams of pain erupted.
They tried to fight back, but in the pitch-black factory where they couldn’t even see their own hands, they ended up hitting each other instead.
Lin Xuan and his group stood to the side, watching them brawl.
They were all wearing special contact lenses Lin Xuan had prepared, allowing them to see the chaos clearly.
Lei Hui smirked in amusement.
The boss really was ruthless.
His methods of torment were brilliant—absolutely brilliant.
Butler Wang’s eyes were fixed on the group, his face alight with excitement.
Following Young Master Lin was always so entertaining!
"I’ll kill you! How dare you hit me! Even if you’re a ghost, I’ll still beat you!" Old Liu grabbed Old Wang by the collar, raining punches on him.
Old Wang recognized Old Liu’s voice.
"Old Liu!" he groaned through gritted teeth. "It’s me—Old Wang! If I were a ghost, would my body still be warm?"
Old Liu froze.
He’d hit the wrong person?
Immediately, he let go of Old Wang.
"Old Wang, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I thought you were one of those ghosts!" Old Liu apologized frantically.
Old Wang glared at him. "You idiot!"
Once they realized they were attacking their own, they stopped fighting.
At that moment, the white light illuminating the "ghosts" flickered back on.
"Had enough fun? Now it’s our turn," the woman’s ethereal voice echoed through the vast space.
"Thud!"
All ten of them dropped to their knees.
"We’re sorry! We shouldn’t have trespassed into your territory! We were wrong—please let us go!"
"We swear, if you release us, we’ll never speak of what happened here. And we’re part of an underground organization—we can provide you with as many people as you want!"
Lin Xuan watched them mockingly.
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
The factory lights blazed back to life, flooding the space with brightness.
Old Liu, Old Wang, and the others were left battered and bruised, their faces swollen beyond recognition.
Lin Xuan then removed his wig, white robes, and the lifelike mask on his face.
Lei Hui, Butler Wang, Cheng Da, and Cheng Er also stripped off their ghostly disguises.
The white-haired woman had been Cheng Er in disguise.
The ghostly voice? Just a voice modulator.
Cheng Er had thoroughly enjoyed himself, still grinning with satisfaction.
"Lin Xuan... it’s you?" Old Liu’s eyes widened in shock. "You’re supposed to be dead! How are you here?"
"You mean this?" Lin Xuan walked over to the corpse.
"It’s just a hyper-realistic dummy made from food materials," he replied with a smirk.
Old Liu and Old Wang stared at the dummy in disbelief.
How... how could it look so real?
It was identical to Lin Xuan!
Wait—
Since when did technology advance enough to create something this lifelike?
Realizing they weren’t dealing with ghosts, Old Liu and Old Wang quickly scrambled to their feet.
Old Wang sneered. "Lin Xuan, even if you’re not dead today, you won’t escape."
"I’ll be honest—someone wants you castrated and your legs broken."
Lin Xuan raised an eyebrow. "Try it. Let’s see if you’re capable."
Cheng Da, Cheng Er, and the other three members of the Golden Dragon Gang immediately moved into protective positions around Lin Xuan.
But Lin Xuan waved them off. "Step back. I’ll handle these guys alone."
Cheng Da and Cheng Er had witnessed Lin Xuan’s skills firsthand.
When he had stormed the Golden Dragon Gang headquarters, he single-handedly defeated their elite fighters.
These ten men were no match for their boss.
All they had to do now was sit back and watch the beatdown.
Without hesitation, Cheng Da and Cheng Er retreated far behind Lin Xuan.
"But..." Lei Hui frowned.
Weren’t they supposed to be the boss’s bodyguards?
Why were they all keeping their distance?
---
Hey everyone, taking a day off today—dealing with period cramps and hand pain. Need some rest.
Thanks to LittlePanda06, XinChuNianFu, and other sweethearts for the gifts!
<3
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
