Chapter 2702: The Psycho City Lord

Ghost Altar Forbidden Ground Attic is filled with yin-cold resentment; even though Jin Chen and the others have decent cultivation, they still feel a bone-chilling cold.

Compared to Jin Chen's previous hurried entry and exit, this time, upon looking deeper, they discovered the attic's interior is far deeper than it appears from outside.

Looking around, countless jars of various sizes are densely packed, and a nauseatingly complex smell permeates the air.

If it's like the Green Altar, each jar is an individual prison; wanting to examine each one would be a huge undertaking, so facing Fu Lingjing and the two others' shameless insistence on following, Jin Chen even somewhat welcomes it.

Some dangers always require someone to investigate.

The eight travel together, but each has their own strange atmosphere.

Only Fu Lingjing's gaze upon the many jars is not wary but filled with eager desire and a determination to obtain them.

He had heard that the fiercer the ghost imprisoned here, the larger the jar; even Yin Chaosheng would have to retreat three stages, and if one could harness an immortal's power to subdue one or two, not to mention Yin Chaosheng, even destroying the entire Ghost City would be no problem.

Fu Lingjing's blood boiled; seeing Jin Chen and the others' attention drawn to a certain inconspicuous jar deep inside, he secretly rejoiced.

He slipped away from the group unnoticed and hurried toward the largest black-gold jar at the attic's center!

"Bang!"

"Ouch!"

Fu Lingjing suddenly screamed, caught off guard, kicked forward and stumbled; fortunately Zhao Tian reacted quickly and steadied him, preventing a face‑first fall. He snapped his head back, eyes blazing with anger, fixedly staring at the laid‑back Jin Chen.

"Jin Chen! What are you doing!"

Jin Chen slowly withdrew his foot, arms crossed, leisurely observing him with a cold gaze: "My City Lord's earnest instructions before entering, you didn't hear a single word."

Before entering the attic, Yin Chaosheng gave his earnest instructions: they must not touch the central large jar; violators will have their souls scattered.

Fu Lingjing was publicly kicked in the buttocks and then scolded by him; instantly his face turned ashen with rage and shame, he could no longer pretend, gritting his teeth he snarled: "Jin Chen, don't get too full of yourself!"

"You really think that having some ambiguous relationship with Yin Chaosheng lets you do as you please in the Ghost City? He is ultimately a fierce ghost, an evil menace! Once this is over, the National Preceptor will surely muster forces to destroy the Ghost City; by then, will you still side with this ghost against the whole world and let him go?"

Jin Chen looked down at Fu Lingjing sprawled on the ground, pressed his foot on the trembling ankle, and applied slight pressure.

"Ah!"

Fu Lingjing couldn't struggle free and cried out in pain again.

Jin Chen's voice was calm but could not hide its killing intent: "Try moving him and see…"

Jin Chen paused, then chuckled lightly: "Oh, I forgot—you can't beat him, you can't even get close."

Before his words finished, Jin Chen withdrew his foot, rose lazily, turned and walked toward the attic's depths; Chu Jiushan and the four others immediately followed, and as they passed Fu Lingjing, Chu Jiushan deliberately made a grimace, nearly making Fu Lingjing cough up blood from anger.

Fu Lingjing stood frozen, his face ashen, shame and rage churning violently in his chest.

Zhao Tian and Zhao Di whispered advice, but could not quell his towering hatred.

In the attic's depths the light grew dimmer, the yin energy so heavy it made breathing difficult.

Here the number of jars had clearly dwindled, yet each emitted a palpitant aura; when Zang Huaian's ancestral compass approached the mere foot‑high jar completely sealed by a black, oddly drawn talisman, it suddenly vibrated with a hum.

"This is the place." Zang Huaian's expression grew solemn as he said in a low voice, "The resentment in this altar far exceeds that of the others, and this seal…"

Heiyi leaned in to examine those black seals closely; his dark face showed unprecedented shock, his voice trembling.

"Brother Jin! This… this is the Nightmare Curse! Recorded in the Forbidden Ancient Texts, a forbidden‑technique seal lost for hundreds of years!"

Jin Chen's gaze fell on the black‑black jar; hearing this, he raised an eyebrow: "Hmm? What is it used for?"

Heiyi took a deep breath and explained: "According to the Forbidden Texts, this seal is specially used to suppress the terrifying ghosts that feed on living beings' nightmares, able to enter dreams and devour souls, but this seal…"

He paused, his tone growing graver: "The combination of runes here is far more complex and ancient than what the fragmented Forbidden Texts record; legend says this complete Nightmare Curse is used to imprison those… who once broke into the Underworld, stole treasures from the Netherworld Office, and then escaped—utterly wicked ghosts!"

As soon as Heiyi finished speaking, Chu Jiushan's eyes widened: "Wow, Brother Heiyi! Who would've thought you, with your thick brows and big eyes, secretly read the Forbidden Texts!"

Jin Chen interjected: "Why are you staring? Let's quickly record this valuable lost‑for‑centuries thing."

Heiyi: "……"

He almost couldn't catch his breath.

What time is it now! Is this the point!

But after being interrupted by Jin Chen and Chu Jiushan, his heavy fear unexpectedly dissipated somewhat; laughing through tears, he really crouched down to study the strange symbols closely, striving to memorize them.

Zang Huaian shook his head helplessly and warned: "This altar is so cramped, yet it requires such lost forbidden seals to suppress; the ferocity of the evil ghost within can be glimpsed."

Liu Shuoyue pondered, then proposed: "Since this altar is special and its resentment linked to nightmares, perhaps it holds the key to probing the Ghost Altar's mysteries; why not start our investigation here?"

The few exchanged glances and all nodded.

Jin Chen stepped forward, condensed Spiritual Power at his fingertip and pointed at the altar's seal; several black sigils flickered briefly before turning to ash.

"Hum——"

The instant the altar's opening burst forth, thick ink‑like black mist surged out, sucking everyone in.

Not long after, a crimson figure appeared at the attic's entrance.

Yin Chaosheng strode in slowly, his trailing robe brushing the yin wind, and landed squarely upon the constantly spinning black nightmare vortex.