Chapter Forty-Nine: The Marquis with the Ghostly Mask

The moment that voice rang out, a chilling wind swept in from outside the door, making me shiver involuntarily. Immediately after, an overwhelming sense of oppression crashed down on me, suffocating to the point where I nearly couldn’t breathe.

Then, I saw a black shadow dart in from outside, swift as lightning. By the time I registered what was happening, a mysterious figure in a black robe had appeared before the statue of the Son of the Underworld. Perched on his shoulder was a monkey with eyes glowing a sinister red.

The man in the black robe said nothing at first. He straightened the incense burner that had been knocked over, then lit three sticks of incense before it and bowed respectfully. Only then did he slowly turn around.

It was at that moment I noticed the man wore a grotesque demon mask. My heart jolted with dread, and I instantly guessed his identity.

Wang Bilin had told us before that in this City of Unjust Deaths, the City Lord had two formidable lieutenants, referred to as his right and left arms. One was Yin-Yang Scholar; the other was the Marquis of the Demon Mask.

Now, this man wore a fearsome demon mask and dared call out Yin-Yang Scholar by name, even reprimanding him. I was certain he was none other than the Marquis of the Demon Mask, peer to Yin-Yang Scholar.

Across from us, the Yin-Yang Scholar’s voice drifted over, sly and mocking: “So it’s you, pretending at sorcery—no wonder you won’t show your true face, Demon Mask. You call me bold, but aren’t you the truly audacious one?”

The Marquis of the Demon Mask did not reply, merely stood motionless before the statue, while the monkey on his shoulder fixed Yin-Yang Scholar with its blood-red gaze.

“Everyone knows that two thousand years ago, the Emperor Yanluo of the Underworld seized the Ghost Emperor’s throne from the Son of the Underworld and now rules the entire netherworld. The Son of the Underworld has vanished for over two millennia. The Emperor Yanluo decreed that all who venerate the Son of the Underworld are to be cast into the Eighteenth Level of Hell. Now you dare offer sacrifices before his statue—this is outright treason!”

Hearing this, I was shaken. So, above the Ten Kings of Hell, there is an Emperor Yanluo ruling the underworld, a figure who, two thousand years ago, overthrew the Son of the Underworld to claim the Ghost Emperor's throne. Was the supreme ruler of hell not the Emperor of Fengdu, as legends say? On second thought, it made sense—if the Son of the Underworld was not Huang Feihu, many folk tales were not to be trusted.

Judging from the mutual hostility between the Marquis of the Demon Mask and Yin-Yang Scholar, it seemed though they were both trusted lieutenants of the City Lord, their relationship was fraught—perhaps entangled with old grudges.

The Marquis of the Demon Mask did not dwell on the matter of the Son of the Underworld. Instead, he turned his gaze to the three of us. Though he wore a demon mask, I could feel the predatory intensity of his eyes, sharp as a hawk's, piercing straight through me.

“This one—I’ll take him.” As he spoke, his gaze landed squarely on me.

I was stunned, unable to guess his intentions. Yin-Yang Scholar’s face darkened, “Marquis, these three are personally wanted by the City Lord. Dare you defy him?”

“Don’t try to intimidate me with the City Lord.” The Marquis repeated himself, “This one—I’ll take him.”

Yin-Yang Scholar snapped open his folded fan, brows knit in concern. Clearly, he found the Marquis troublesome. After a brief silence, he bared his sharp fangs and spat, “No!”

“Monkey!”

The Marquis tilted his head and called to the monkey on his shoulder. With a screech, the monkey vanished in a blur and pounced toward Yin-Yang Scholar.

Gone was the playful arrogance the Scholar had shown us earlier; now he was utterly alert. As the monkey lunged, he dodged swiftly, but the monkey’s speed was terrifying. In moments, it had pinned him to the ground.

Then came a gruesome scene: the monkey’s claws tore into Yin-Yang Scholar, slashing at breakneck speed. Barely seven or eight seconds passed before the monkey leapt back onto the Marquis’s shoulder, twitching with excitement.

What remained of Yin-Yang Scholar was a gruesome sight—his body torn to pieces, bloody remains scattered across the floor.

I knew he couldn’t possibly be killed so easily by the monkey; I had just witnessed his ability to survive decapitation. Sure enough, the severed remains began to squirm and reassemble, until at last his body was whole again. He bent down angrily, picked up his two bloodied eyeballs, and shoved them back into his sockets, glaring resentfully at the monkey still cavorting on the Marquis’s shoulder.

The Marquis lightly patted the monkey, which instantly quieted down, lying still on his shoulder.

Once again, the Marquis repeated, “This one—I’ll take him. You know my temperament: I never say the same thing more than three times. Otherwise, next time, my monkey won’t simply tear your body apart.”

This time, though Yin-Yang Scholar was brimming with resentment, he dared not utter another word. He knew how savage that monkey was. Though he and the Marquis were equals in reputation, within the City of Unjust Deaths, Yin-Yang Scholar had many more lackeys. He commanded most of the city’s underworld soldiers, while the Marquis worked alone. Still, it was the monkey he truly feared; this was not the first time he’d suffered at its hands.

“I’ll report today’s incident to the City Lord in full!” Yin-Yang Scholar spat, then withdrew from the temple, standing beside the carriage outside, glaring at us with something like wounded indignation.

Nerves taut, I still had no idea what the Marquis wanted. He was already approaching. With every step, it felt as if a heavy hammer struck my heart.

“Come with me.”

The Marquis glanced at me and, with those three words, turned to leave the temple. I dared not disobey; it was as if some unseen force bound my body, compelling me to follow.

“Sir, may I bring my two brothers?”

Though tense, my mind was clear. If I left Luli and Wang Feiyang behind, they would surely fall into Yin-Yang Scholar’s hands—and their fate would be grim.

“No.”

I hadn’t expected such a flat refusal. My heart plummeted. Instinctively, I protested that if I couldn’t take them, I wouldn’t go either; I would not abandon my brothers to their deaths.

“That’s not for you to decide,” the Marquis replied coldly. He patted the monkey on his shoulder, and in a flash, it darted toward me, circling around my body from head to toe. In a blink, it looped around my feet, then leapt back to the Marquis’s shoulder, chittering with laughter as its red eyes bored into me.

Only then did I realize that I was bound head to toe by a chain exuding a chilling, ghostly aura. The monkey clutched one end of the chain, cackling as it stared at me.

I struggled desperately, but the more I fought, the tighter the chains became. Meanwhile, by the carriage, Yin-Yang Scholar was closing in on Luli and Wang Feiyang, casting them a sinister glance as he advanced.

The Marquis clearly had come for me alone and paid no mind to what Yin-Yang Scholar might do with the others. As I strained against the chains, the monkey lunged at me again.

With a screech, it struck me squarely on the forehead with a heavy fist.

Instantly, everything went black.