From the moment he was pinned to the ground by the Yin Tiger, the Rakshasa Ghost had a terrible premonition.
When the black-haired youth on the high seat smiled faintly at him, that bad feeling peaked.
The Rakshasa Ghost looked at the Ghost Arena. Inside, a ghost beast locked behind iron bars had already stepped up to the edge of the cage. Its hungry ghostly eyes glowed with eerie blue flames, drool dripping down as it scanned the edge of the arena for prey.
A look of panic—identical to the expressions of those he’d once slaughtered—appeared on the Rakshasa Ghost’s face. He turned, trying to flee the arena.
But the ghosts who had earlier avoided his wrath now surrounded him.
Flames of fury danced in his red hair, fangs bared. He roared, “You dare block me?!”
The more frightened he became, the more distorted his face grew. The Rakshasa Ghost already looked monstrous; now, he was downright terrifying.
But not one of the surrounding ghosts backed down.
No matter how strong he was, the Rakshasa Ghost couldn’t withstand so many ghosts. He was lifted up by the mob and thrown into the Ghost Arena.
The three-meter-tall Rakshasa Ghost landed heavily in the pit. Compared to the vast arena, he looked like a mere child.
Thunderous cheers rang out around the edge.
“Look, the Rakshasa Ghost is going to die!”
“I bet he won’t last a minute—hahaha! I’ve hated him for years.”
“Release the ghost beast! I want to see him torn to shreds! Rakshasa Ghost, your time’s up!”
“Tear off his head so we can use it for football!”
There was no day or night in the Underworld. A gloomy darkness enveloped Ghost City, and the writhing ghosts looked like a pile of disgusting, rotting sludge.
The voices of the crowd reached Jiang Luo’s ears. He smiled faintly and thought, What inhuman evil spirits.
Cruel, cold-blooded, reveling in chaos.
So revolting. So savage.
And yet Jiang Luo’s soul boiled with excitement.
Ox-Head asked beside him, “My lord, which ghost beast would you like to pit against the Rakshasa Ghost?”
Jiang Luo’s gaze roamed over the cages.
Above each cage was a drawing of the ghost beast within. His eyes paused on a massive serpent with nine heads.
He heard himself say with a laugh, “Since the Rakshasa Ghost enjoys eating heads, let’s release this snake.”
Ox-Head’s voice held a trace of sympathy. “Understood.”
But in the next second, as he loudly announced the release, he couldn’t suppress his excitement, “Release the Nine-Headed Serpent—!”
The Rakshasa Ghost was still bellowing in rage.
“Who threw me down here?! I’ll eat them alive!”
As if the yelling could chase away his fear, the Rakshasa Ghost’s voice grew louder. But then, something wet dripped onto his head.
Rain slid from his hair to his nose. Realization dawned on him. He stiffly wiped the liquid and sniffed it.
Thick, metallic—blood.
The Rakshasa Ghost looked up in horror.
A massive serpent had reared up, glowing green eyes locked onto him.
The Nine-Headed Serpent had three male heads on the bottom, three female heads in the middle, and three childlike heads on top. All nine were staring straight at the Rakshasa Ghost. The enormous body slowly slithered forward.
Ox-Head said, “The Nine-Headed Serpent has lived for 200 years. A century ago, it was nearly frozen to death in winter and was taken in by three families. It lived with them for two years. After that, each family had children. One day, the serpent caught the scent of the children and couldn’t resist—it ate them. Then, craving the taste of humans, it devoured all three couples as well.”
“Since then, it grew nine heads. And its favorite food is human brains.”
Jiang Luo laughed, as if enlightened. Propping up his head, he watched the arena with a smile. “Then they must have a lot to talk about.”
In the next instant, the Rakshasa Ghost let out a blood-curdling scream as he was torn in half. The Nine-Headed Serpent buried its heads in his body. After many years, fresh blood once again soaked the floor of the Ghost Arena.
There was a moment of silence.
Then a roar of celebration erupted across the arena.
At the edge, in the frenzy, some ghosts were shoved into the arena themselves—becoming fresh fodder for the serpent. This sparked waves of laughter.
“Next one!”
“Send in another one!”
Countless eyes locked onto the high seat.
The king of the Ghost Arena lazily swept his gaze across them.
“Which one should I choose?”
Thump, thump.
Every evil ghost stared at him in tense silence.
Jiang Luo focused his attention on the black mist surrounding each of them.
The more sins a ghost had committed, the thicker its killing aura — and the more likely it was to be chosen.
He wasn’t suddenly struck by kindness or hoping to eliminate evil ghosts.
He simply believed that the stronger they were, the more entertaining it was to watch them struggle against death.
These ghosts had committed countless atrocities. Had they ever thought this day would come?
When faced with death — would they cry and beg, or resist until the end?
Jiang Luo raised a finger. His pale, slender hand looked like a work of art — bones defined, fingertips full and smooth. But at this moment, it seemed more like the reaper’s scythe. The ghosts he pointed at turned deathly pale; those he passed over sighed in relief.
Finally, his finger landed on a fierce spirit drenched in murderous aura, one who had killed too many to count.
The ghost’s ecstatic expression vanished, disbelief flooding his face as he was shoved into the Ghost Arena.
“Only one ghost beast being released — isn’t that unfair to the others?” the king on the throne pondered aloud, then chuckled. “How about this? Let’s release them in batches.”
Ox-Head gulped and said, “If Your Majesty says so, then it shall be so.”
“Then let’s do that,” Jiang Luo leaned back, a faint red light like a demon’s glinting in his eyes. “Five ghost beasts, five evil ghosts. That’s more like a show worth watching.”
He tapped the armrest with his fair hand and smiled. “Otherwise, battles ending in one second are just too boring.”
***
The Ghost Arena was soon soaked in blood.
The very air the ghosts breathed seemed to carry a metallic scent, thick with blood. Many had stripped off their tops like drunken men at a brawl, faces flushed, shouting hoarsely, “Go for it!”
“The one fighting the Faceless Wolf is useless — I actually bet he’d last a whole incense stick’s time. Waste of my money. Tch.”
The crowd of ghosts were in full swing, betting tables had long been set up — the arena had turned into their personal coliseum for entertainment.
Jiang Luo sat silently, watching.
The atmosphere was growing more frenzied by the second, yet he felt increasingly bored.
His heart, which had briefly raced, settled back into a steady rhythm. Jiang Luo even felt like he could take a nap.
Tapping his toe, he idly scanned the crowd of ghosts for the next batch to enter the arena.
The previous so-called powerful ghosts, despite all their wickedness, hadn’t managed to kill a single ghost beast. It was a one-sided slaughter. Though the carnage made his blood boil and breath quicken, mentally he felt nothing but dullness and monotony.
If only something interesting would happen, Jiang Luo thought.
His gaze casually swept around — then suddenly stopped at a corner.
In the shadows, behind the ghosts, stood two figures.
One was a bald monk.
The other, dressed sharply in a suit, was Chi You.
Jiang Luo stared at Chi You, a deep and unreadable smile forming on his lips. He finally straightened in his seat and whispered two words to Ox-Head.
Not far away, Ge Wuchen looked at the chaotic crowd and said with pity, “Wagering with their lives… what a bunch of fools.”
Chi You didn’t glance at the hideous ghosts. His eyes remained fixed on the figure seated high upon the throne.
“I really didn’t expect it…” he murmured, unable to look away. “He actually managed to go this far.”
The statue of the Evil God possessed both divine and demonic qualities. Its heart was the core of the statue, the very essence of malevolence — a vessel that gathered pure evil.
The statue’s heart was innately sensitive to wickedness.
Sufficient malice could awaken the heart and reveal its abilities. But such an object would amplify the darkness in a person’s soul, then easily turn and devour their very spirit. Yet Jiang Luo not only retained his sanity — he used the heart to activate the Ghost Arena.
This meant his own inner evil was powerful enough to rival the heart of the statue.
How could Chi You not be delighted by that?
The statue had been Chi You’s plan for years — a vessel prepared as his future body. He had fed it with his own flesh and blood, nurturing a god of evil. Aside from the unexpected twist of it gaining self-awareness, the statue had been tailor-made for him.
The “evil” inside that heart was so thick it was nearly tar-black — a reflection of Chi You’s own malice.
But today, he realized — someone else existed who could rival that evil.
At this point, Chi You didn’t even care about taking the heart back. What intrigued him more was:
What kind of “evil” does Jiang Luo harbor?
He stared intently at Jiang Luo, watching every move. That lazy lift of the eyes, the contemptuous glance downward — every action filled Chi You with eager anticipation and pleasure.
Just then, Ox-Head pushed through the crowd to Chi You’s side and muttered, “The King wants you in the arena.”
Chi You paused — then slowly smiled. “Me?”
Ox-Head’s huge bronze eyes showed a flicker of sympathy. “Yes. The King wants you to face five ghost beasts — alone.”
Chi You raised his gaze and, through the countless ghosts, locked eyes with the black-haired youth on the throne.
That youth smiled, charming and cruel.
What a ruthless heart, Chi You sighed, unfastening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. “Ge Wuchen, I’m afraid we came here today for nothing.”
Ge Wuchen frowned.
Chi You brought him to Fengdu Ghost City for two reasons: one, to retrieve the heart that belonged to this body of his; and two, to release the ghost beasts from the Ghost Battle Arena and make them his ghost beast puppets.
Ge Wuchen didn’t know why Chi You had suddenly come up with the idea of controlling ghost beasts. When he asked, Chi You merely replied, “I just think controlling wild beasts must feel pretty good.”
Chi You had always done things as he pleased—one could even call him willful. So Ge Wuchen didn’t press further. After all, ghost beasts were powerful; turning them into the master’s puppets would be a significant boost.
That was why he accompanied Chi You here. But now that things had gone sideways, what did Chi You mean by that statement?
“Master, what do you mean by this?” Ge Wuchen sighed and tried to persuade him patiently. “We’ve already come this far. Can’t you just hold back a little, pretend to lose, or at least not kill the ghost beasts? Wouldn’t that still let us reach our goal?”
As long as the ghost beasts weren’t killed, they could still be turned into their puppets.
Ge Wuchen really didn’t want this whole trip to be for nothing.
He thought Chi You would listen to reason—surely, he wouldn’t want to waste the effort either. Pretending to lose or barely scraping a win—this kind of playing dumb to catch the tiger act was something Chi You had endured for over twenty years back in the Chi family. Ge Wuchen believed he would hold back now too.
But Chi You handed him his removed tie and cufflinks and said with a faint, elusive smile, “But I don’t think that kind of victory looks good enough.”
With that, he stepped forward and jumped straight into the Ghost Battle Arena, landing steadily on the ground.
The ghost beasts were still feasting on the corpses of the last batch of hapless victims.
The ground was filthy, with no little ghosts daring to come in and clean up the remains. Blood and broken limbs were scattered everywhere; hardly any clean spot remained.
Chi You happened to land in one of the very few clean areas.
His arrival startled the ghost beasts mid-feast. Five huge, grotesque beasts turned their heads, their terrifying eyes locking onto Chi You.
Sensing a threat from this evil ghost, the five beasts abandoned their meals in unison and began cautiously approaching Chi You.
At the same time, the sound of several iron cages lifting echoed behind him.
The ghost spectators watching from above the arena were momentarily silent, mouths agape as they stared at the beasts walking out of the cages. Their fear made their voices tremble.
“F-Five more…”
Five more cages had opened.
Five ghost beasts crawled out with heads lowered, already driven wild by the scent of blood in the arena, drooling excessively as they crept closer to Chi You, itching to attack.
The spectators, who had been reveling in madness just moments ago, finally sobered a bit. They held their breath and stepped back, exchanging wary glances.
“Still… still taking bets?”
“How could we? That ghost won’t last a second.”
“Exactly. Ten ghost beasts—he’s not even enough to fill one’s teeth.”
Jiang Luo watched with lowered eyes as the ghost beasts surrounded Chi You.
The boredom he had just been feeling was replaced by a sudden stirring in his heart. Amused, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He silently cheered the beasts on—go on, attack him together.
Defeat that wicked ghost. Tear apart his neat suit and leather shoes. Make him bow his head in defeat. Leave him with no way to escape.
In the Ghost Battle Arena, the beasts closed in on Chi You.
Standing in the center, Chi You looked pitiful and weak in comparison. One particularly ill-tempered beast was the first to roar, sending out a gust of foul wind.
The wind ruffled Chi You’s clothes and scattered his hair messily across his brow. Without the tie, his collar swayed slightly in the wind, lending him an oddly relaxed and casual air.
“Ten of them,” Chi You muttered to himself. “Winning stylishly like this really is difficult.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the ghost beasts—seeing he hadn’t responded—grew bolder and charged at him all at once.
Chi You ignored them, stepping around the filth on the ground as he walked straight toward Jiang Luo. Just as the beasts were about to reach him, the ones in front abruptly ignored him and pounced at the beasts behind him instead.
The ghost beasts clashed with each other, and those under his control became his loyal protectors. Amidst the roars and snarls, Chi You passed through the battlefield like a breeze, untouched.
But just as he was about to exit the arena, a sudden tremor erupted behind him.
Chi You turned to see more ghost beasts being released and rushing toward him, reaching him in the blink of an eye.
With no time to turn them into puppets, Chi You frowned and raised his hand. A black mist wrapped around the beasts and crushed them like fragile birds. But blood and body parts splattered all over him, instantly staining his once-pristine clothes.
Chi You’s expression darkened immediately.
The stench of the ghost beasts was unbearable. One after another, he crushed them, becoming drenched in gore and left looking utterly disheveled, like a warrior just returned from a bloody battle.
He had won—but it was far from the elegant victory he had envisioned.
Chi You turned a chilling gaze toward Jiang Luo.
He didn’t need to guess—this was clearly Jiang Luo’s doing. Sure enough, the young man’s black-haired head couldn’t hide the smile on his face.
Chi You curled his lips into a cold smile and started walking toward him step by step.
Ox-Head muttered like he was dreaming, “He… he walked out.”
Unbelievable.
Someone had actually walked out alive from the ghost beast onslaught.
Anyone who could walk out of the Ghost Battle Arena alive had the right to meet the king. So Chi You, wrapped in blood and murderous energy, walked up to Jiang Luo.
The closer he got to Jiang Luo, the stronger the resonance between the statue body and the statue’s heart.
The heart began beating faster.
Chi You could even feel its rhythm.
The more active the heart became, the more easily its contained “evil” could control the minds of others. Chi You suddenly smiled, strode up to Jiang Luo, bent down, and very gentlemanly took Jiang Luo’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it.
“I finally get to meet you,” he said in admiration, though his smile carried a sinister edge. “Your ghost arena is truly both fierce and beautiful.”
He smiled, but his smile brimmed with malice. At such close proximity, the idol heart within him was driven to its peak by that malice.
Mixed with the innate “evil” of Chi You’s nature, it stirred Jiang Luo’s own heartbeat into a frenzied rhythm.
Chi You deliberately let the heart pour its full malice into Jiang Luo.
Chi You was the type to repay every slight a hundredfold. Right now, he really wanted to see what Jiang Luo would look like once his true nature was revealed.
Jiang Luo’s gaze shifted past Chi You to the arena behind him.
All twenty ghost beasts in the arena had been completely annihilated.
A game that should have lasted an entire day had ended just like that—and Chi You had come out entirely unscathed.
Jiang Luo looked coldly back at Chi You.
He leaned back slightly, his hand still resting in Chi You’s blood-soaked palm. His black hair draped over his shoulders like decadent, dark roses.
“Who said you could speak while standing?” All the irritation, agitation, and other negative emotions in Jiang Luo’s heart seemed to swell at once. His gaze toward Chi You now carried open impatience. In a place like this, he had no need to suppress himself. Jiang Luo furrowed his brow, unfiltered. “You’ve made me very unhappy.”
In the ghost arena, Jiang Luo was king.
Chi You smoothly dropped to one knee, smiling with elegance and falseness. “Is this more to your satisfaction?”
Jiang Luo looked down at him from above.
His gaze was full of hostility, sharp and overwhelming.
That look made Chi You instantly exhilarated. His smile deepened, and he slowly tightened his grip on Jiang Luo’s hand, his voice low: “What are you thinking about?”
Jiang Luo was thinking about how to kill Chi You.
The deepest malice in his heart seemed to break free. He stared coldly at everything—the carnage in the arena, the ghosts trembling in fear—as if none of it had anything to do with him.
He didn’t care. He felt nothing. Tragedy didn’t rouse his pity; death only awakened his thirst for blood.
Jiang Luo remembered when he had first arrived in this world.
When he had wept helplessly in front of Chi You’s coffin, he had been thinking: teasing an evil spirit—this is actually thrilling.
He liked Chi You’s character, but in that moment, he realized that what was even more exhilarating than liking an evil spirit… was toying with one.
Was it fun to deceive an evil spirit?
Yes. Incredibly fun.
Looking at the blood-covered, terrifying creature before him, an even more depraved voice echoed in Jiang Luo’s mind.
“If you kill the evil spirit, won’t that end the fun? Won’t you lose that thrill?”
That’s true.
Then what should he do?
The voice said: “Why not turn him into a dog at your feet?”
“Make him fall for you, madly and obsessively, just like you lied about. Whatever you say, he’ll do. If you tell him to die, he’ll obediently go die.”
“Just like he drank a harmony talisman—but even stronger. He’ll become an evil spirit under your control without needing puppet-binding soul magic. Isn’t it far more exciting to tame a vicious, powerful evil spirit?”
You make a good point.
Letting Chi You fall madly in love with him, begging to be with him, might not be a bad idea either.
A flush of red veined Jiang Luo’s eyes.
Chi You could smell it—a thick, clinging scent of “evil.”
He was nearly intoxicated by it.
He looked at Jiang Luo with awe and wonder.
Such potent, alluring malice—Chi You was instantly certain—
Jiang Luo, at his core, was the same kind of person as he was.
Author’s note:
Gong: Darling has twelve zodiac beasts. I want to control ghost beasts too, mwah mwah~
