Chapter 89: Little Ghost, Strangers Aren

BOOM————!!!

The Heaven-Transforming Rod, wrapped in golden-red flame, slammed down with terrifying force, its momentum rippling outward and instantly scattering the souls of over a hundred demons attempting to approach him.

“How boring—there isn’t even one worth fighting…”

Deep within the fragment of the Yellow Springs Realm, Wu Xian slowly stepped out of the crater, slinging the silver rod over his shoulder armor, his gaze piercing through the significantly thinned ranks of spectral soldiers toward the pale woman who was staring back at him with equal intensity.

A faint smile curled his lips; he raised his free hand, beckoning with a finger, then slashed his thumb across his throat—the meaning was unmistakable.

If you’ve got guts, come here!

I’ll beat you to death!

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh————!!!!!!”

A shriek, sharper and more piercing than a groundhog’s, echoed throughout the space.

Immediately afterward, the chaotic mist around him twisted and shuddered as countless new spirits surged from all directions, charging at Wu Xian with a suicidal resolve—as if causing him even a scratch was worth their soul’s annihilation.

Yet at that moment, Wu Xian carelessly tossed the Heaven-Transforming Rod into the air.

With a crisp shattering sound, the silver-white rod shattered into thousands of tiny silver blades, spinning rapidly around him like a storm of blades, slicing every spirit that dared approach into nothingness.

Ordinary weapons cannot harm spiritual entities—but don’t forget, the Heaven-Transforming Rod is a mental-force weapon, and mental force is one of the supernatural systems explicitly defined by Z-Da as capable of injuring spirits.

Beyond that, Wu Xian had specifically inscribed it with talismans and incantations tailored to suppress ghosts and demons; now, with full power unleashed, it truly felt like cutting through grass without resistance.

Thus, Wu Xian strolled forward leisurely, not even raising a hand, as the silver blades glowing with talismanic light struck the endless waves of demons hundreds of times over.

The once grotesque and terrifying wraiths now crumbled as fragile as torn cloth, not even uttering a cry before dissolving like spring snow beneath the sun.

“Pata————xN”

Suddenly, Wu Xian halted his advance as dozens of pale white arms materialized out of thin air, coiling around his ankles and slithering upward like serpents toward his neck.

But in the next instant, dense clusters of crimson-gold talismans flared across the black armor; the arms recoiled as if burned by a searing iron, then instantly turned to ash and vanished without a trace.

“That’s it?”

Wu Xian sneered, then suddenly accelerated, sprinting forward.

This time, he no longer kept the blade-storm protecting him—he let the blades spread out, attacking freely.

As for himself, he grasped dozens of the blades, fusing them into two watermelon knives, and charged once more into the tide of spirits, reveling in the slaughter!

Swing the blade! Swing the blade! Still swinging the blade!!

Under the triple debuffs of Buddhist light, mental force, and talismans, the once fearsome demons were utterly defenseless, felled by Wu Xian’s watermelon knives like wheat before a scythe—clearing vast swathes of ground in moments.

Meanwhile, the remaining spirits behind watched the black-armored figure like a demon-god, their faces twisted with terror—even under Gaya’s orders, they dared not advance.

In ancient Huaxia, it was said that martial aura repelled evil; any malevolent or impure entity dared not approach not only great monks and virtuous scholars, but also seasoned warriors hardened by battle.

Just as Emperor Taizong of Tang, Li Shimin, was haunted in dreams by the vengeful spirits of his slain brothers, he had Qin Shubao and Yuchi Gong stand guard before his palace each night, weapons in hand.

This is one origin of the Door God legend—and it proves that ghosts fear martial aura.

On the other side, Gaya may have realized that sending these lowly spirits was merely sacrificing them; she used her authority over the Yellow Springs fragment to recall them.

At that moment, the sound of a child’s crying rose behind Wu Xian; he turned, and within his molten-gold pupils, reflected a familiar, short silhouette.

Gaya’s dead son—Saeki Toshio!

Unlike the earlier controlled clones, this Saeki Toshio looked even more sinister and horrifying.

Beyond the classic dark circles and gray skin, his abdomen was unnaturally sunken, as if all internal organs had been hollowed out.

This was precisely how he looked after being locked in his father’s closet and starved to death.

“Waaahhhhhhh————!!!!”

As if sensing Wu Xian’s gaze, Saeki Toshio cried even louder.

Moreover, his body began to twist and deform—his skin darkened from gray-white to charcoal-black, his limbs and throat shriveled into thin bamboo stalks, while his head and belly swelled grotesquely.

Moments later, his mouth slowly opened wide, like a black hole vortex, swallowing the lingering spirits still nearby.

Once those spirits were devoured, his monstrous form began to grow visibly larger, proportionally increasing in size.

Clearly, as Gaya’s son, Saeki Toshio—the spirit who died of hunger—received special attention.

He gained partial authority over the Yellow Springs fragment, becoming an embodiment of the Hungry Ghost Realm, his power far beyond the previous rabble.

“Oh! Now this is interesting.”

Wu Xian tilted his head, his mind shifting—he reassembled the blade fragments back into the rod and slung it over his shoulder, then watched with amusement as Saeki Toshio’s aura surged higher, murmuring with a low chuckle:

“Good. Cutting grass all along was boring… little ghost, I hope you can give me some fun—otherwise, I’m going to spank your mother.”

As if hearing Wu Xian’s nearly insulting words, Saeki Toshio accelerated his consumption of the surrounding spirits.

Within mere breaths, every spirit that had survived Wu Xian’s watermelon blades was devoured, and Saeki Toshio’s body swelled to fifteen meters tall.

“Waaahhhhhhhhhhhhh——————!!!”

Still that annoying child’s wail—the deformed, colossal hungry ghost rose to his feet, cradling his bloated belly, staring greedily at everything before him, as if saying, “I could eat more!”

This was the Hungry Ghost Realm.

Souls falling into this realm would inevitably transform into hungry ghosts.

Eternal hunger. Eternal craving. Yet never satisfied.

The more they devoured, the more they swelled; the more they swelled, the hungrier they became.

“So hungry! So hungry! I need to eat! I want more!!”

Saeki Toshio, eyes green with starvation, let out a piercing wail, then suddenly lowered his gaze to the only presence nearby—the most delicious scent of all.

He licked his black lips and spoke in a childish, yet thunderously loud voice:

“Big brother, you smell so good… can I eat you?”

Without waiting for Wu Xian’s reply, he charged forward like a grotesque giant.

His bizarre, uncoordinated running posture reminded Wu Xian of those cursed video clips he’d seen before—he almost asked Friday to play Yu Quan’s “Running” for ambiance.

As Wu Xian momentarily drifted off, Saeki Toshio was already upon him, raising two enormous, bloated hands to grab him—intent on shoving him whole into his mouth!

Wu Xian made no resistance—he let Saeki Toshio’s hands seize him, and without even chewing, the hungry ghost swallowed him whole.

After swallowing Wu Xian, Saeki Toshio’s face lit up with joy; he placed his hands on his swollen belly and slowly stroked it, savoring the rare, satisfying fullness.

But the next instant, he erupted into a scream far more horrific than his hunger had ever produced!

“Little ghost, didn’t your mother ever tell you strangers aren’t to be eaten casually?”

A mocking voice echoed from within Saeki Toshio’s body.

Then, a thick rod burst through his distended belly, revealing a bottomless darkness within.

Request follow-up subscriptions! Request follow-up subscriptions!





(End of Chapter)