Chapter Ninety-Nine: Ghost

“Hmm? Erase the traces, and how exactly do you erase them?” Luo Hanyan asked with mild curiosity, not at all expecting what was coming.

“It’s simple. All you have to do is leave this place,” Ji An said in a voice like ash.

A shadow condensed out of the pit, wrapped in rolling mists and layered in sinister hues. He could not make out its true form, only a creeping dread and cold. Staring into that haze, Luo Hanyan felt as though he had seen the most dreadful thing in the world. Though he felt no fear in his heart, his body trembled anyway; every cell quivered as if it had glimpsed the predator of its life.

From afar, the figure seemed veiled by cloud, elusive and enigmatic, strangely majestic. He could just barely make out Ji An: black hair spilling to his waist, two white locks hanging over his brow. He wore a black battle robe beneath a violet silk surcoat, ghost-helm pauldrons on his shoulders, and a gray cloak that streamed in the wind. In his hand was a sword called the Gloomdream Longsword, nine feet long, with a dark fatal light clinging to it.

Nine abyssal springs cannot halt the road.
Across immeasurable ages, old silent orchids become an empty hell;
Countless reborn ghosts rise, and the in-between dead seize the world of men.

Luo Hanyan suddenly felt as if his body no longer belonged to him. It lifted, borne by some subtle sense of heaven and earth, then drifted down slowly and was drawn before Ji An.

“That can’t be…” The thought hit him like a blow, an ugly instinct of danger spreading through him.

“I—” Luo Hanyan meant to say, “I think we can sit and talk this through,” but before he could continue, a flash of white cut across his vision. When he came to himself, he was in the Sixth Space.

“What does this mean? I was force-teleported?” He opened the game menu to check settlement details. The screen showed only a plain system notice.

He lifted his brows. Without a word, he opened social options, found the ID, and sent a friend request. In a few dozen seconds, the other side accepted.

He immediately started an instant call, and the moment the link connected he asked without courtesy, “You got knocked out too?”

The other side seemed taken aback, then answered after a few seconds. “Were you teleported as well?”

“Yes.” Luo Hanyan replied. “The system says I was too.” He hesitated. “Odd... mine was too. I had been pressing that fellow Harley hard, you know.”

“Maybe,” said Ou Guyu suspiciously. “But how did you know my situation? Did you trigger something?”

“Uh… maybe.” Luo paused, then said, “I touched a major boss sealed in the Abyssal Prison, at least a ninth-tier entity.”

“Are you saying we’re victims of an unprecedented disaster? A single boss wiped every player instantly?” Ou Guyu asked. He paused, then added, “By the way… you just mentioned an Abyssal Prison. Can you tell me about it?”

“You actually know this thing?”

A brittle laugh came over the line. “Well… I’m just curious what a thing capable of sealing a ninth-tier-plus being might look like.”

“Oh? I’ve never even seen such a high-tier being, so your curiosity is understandable,” Luo said, his eyes flickering. He knew Ou Guyu had another motive.

He gave a cold smile. “I’m just forgetful. You know how I am—just moments ago I forgot everything from the scenario. Honestly, this rotten memory of mine is shameful.”

Ou Guyu was sharp enough to know Luo was feigning confusion. “If Brother Han has forgotten, then I’ll tell you a few things to help him remember.”

“Oh? Ou Brother, you know about this Abyssal Prison too? Then I’m all ears.”

Ou Guyu rolled his eyes. “Then I’ll speak plainly. Don’t hide anything, Brother Han.”

“Of course.”

He paused, as though making a heavy decision, then continued. “It was sheer coincidence. A few days ago, I entered a scenario where the map was a dark hell. At first, I was chased by a mob of demons. At the end, I reached a giant altar and touched a mysterious old man.”

“‘Mysterious old man,’ huh? Let me guess—the classic story: after leaping from a cliff, you meet a mysterious elder who imparts a secret art, and in the end you slay every demon yourself?” Luo interjected with the tone of a spectator passing judgment.

“Hey! Could you stop interrupting? Are you going to let me speak at all? Why don’t you do it then?” Ou Guyu snapped.

“Fine, fine—you go first. I won’t interrupt.” Luo said.

Ou Guyu steadied himself and continued. “That old man said the altar had been built by his master. His master had been locked in the Abyssal Prison. He gave me a mission to save the War God of Hell, then teleported me out.”

“And then? Nothing?”

“If not, then what do you expect?” he replied.

“Oh, there isn’t much there either,” Luo said evenly. “The Polar King Lanse is the warden of the Abyssal Prison. Then the prison inexplicably collapsed, and a figure of terrifying presence appeared and erased me in one strike.”

“Nothing?”

“With you too. The same.”

After a pause, Ou Guyu ended the call, as if refusing to continue talking with a shamelessly blunt rogue.

…...

As every player vanished from that world, Ji An let the mist around him dissipate. His stern, extraordinary face hardened. Suddenly he turned, looking behind to where no one should have been. There, only arm’s length away, stood a figure.

His hair was wild green, skin a sallow white. His mouth stretched open with an absurd smudge of deep red lipstick. He wore a purple, spotted sleepwear-like garment, ridiculous enough to be laughable, yet around him radiated an unmistakable arrogant force.

“Ho-ho… Hell’s War God, we meet again,” the jester said, laughing in a way both grotesque and horrifying.

Ji An answered, “Why are you here? And why did you set me free?”

“And why did you send those two away?” the jester asked.

Ji An ignored that question. “I do not know your true purpose, but since you pulled me out of that cursed place, I will naturally help you conceal yourself, wipe away all traces.”

“Clever. I like making bargains with clever men,” the jester said with a laugh, his eyes pinning him. “What you did was wise. There is, after all, a meddling type above us.”

“But did you go too far this time?” Ji An lowered his voice. “You forcibly brought those two here to this rotten island. Aren’t you afraid of playing with fire?”

The jester gave a strange smile and drew a single card from his hand.

“Ghost?”

“Of course,” the jester said, laughing sharply. “We are both ghosts. What trouble can there be?”