Chapter 2169: Endless Souls

Zu An’s face couldn’t help but twitch at the thought of a white-haired old woman smilingly pulling him close and calling him a “fated one.”

“The Judges’ Bureau is formed by City Gods from various regions. Each City God is responsible for several small towns or a large city, ensuring no ghosts or demons cause trouble in their vicinity.”

Hearing Black Wuchang, Zu An was filled with skepticism. If demons from outside worlds were invading the human realm, why weren’t these City Gods appearing to intervene?

“The Netherworld Bureau is quite significant within the Underworld. It oversees the Merit Bureau, Punishment Bureau, Investigation Bureau, and Underworld Law Bureau. The Merit Bureau records an individual’s good deeds during their life, while the Punishment Bureau records their sins. The Investigation Bureau reviews cases within the Underworld to prevent miscarriages of justice. The Underworld Law Bureau manages the Book of Life and Death and the Soul-Reaping Brush, allowing them to extend a person’s lifespan or retrieve their soul into the underworld.”

Zu An recalled how Sun Wukong in *Journey to the West* had forced his way into the Underworld in his previous life to alter his own Book of Life and Death. He hadn’t expected such a thing to exist in this world. He really wanted to check his own lifespan and that of his friends, and if possible, change them all, just like Sun Wukong did.

Just then, White Wuchang spoke again: “As for the Ten Ghost Messengers, ‘ten’ is a general term. They are broadly divided into three types. The Yin Ghost Emissaries include the Day Roaming Gods, Night Roaming Gods, and the Ghost Kings you previously mentioned. Their duty is often to patrol the mortal realm and apprehend escaped lone spirits.”

A thought sparked in Zu An’s mind: could the Skinned Ghost King actually be one of these Yin Ghost Emissaries, rather than a being from deeper hell?

“Soul Reapers are like us brothers—Ox-Head, Horse-Face, and the Shackled Generals, for instance—who are responsible for collecting the souls of those whose lifespans have ended.”

“Another category consists of the Demonic Nether Emissaries, who are responsible for guiding the souls of animals, birds, aquatic creatures, insects, and the like.”

After finishing his explanation, White Wuchang added, “You might encounter these in your future work and life. Just keep them in mind.”

Zu An couldn’t help but ask, “So what about me, the Styx ferryman?”

Black and White Wuchang were momentarily stunned by his question, both reaching up to touch their long tongues. “It’s strange,” Black Wuchang mused, “we can’t immediately recall who you report to. Your type seems not to belong to any specific bureau; you hold a rather detached status in the Underworld...”

Seeing their slightly troubled expressions, Zu An wondered if the colossal statue had spontaneously assigned him this role, which was why Black and White Wuchang couldn’t recall it.

If that were the case, the statue’s power would be truly astonishing.

“Styx ferrymen have always been mysterious and don’t typically interact much with outsiders. You, Brother Zu, are the first one we’ve met who’s so agreeable,” White Wuchang said with a smile. “Once you’re settled, try communicating with the other ferrymen; they might be able to tell you which lord you report to.”

Zu An was surprised. “Are there many Styx ferrymen?” he asked.

“Of course, there’s more than one,” Black Wuchang replied. “Otherwise, with so many departed souls arriving daily in the Underworld, how long would it take for a single ferryman to transport them all? In fact, it’s not just the ferrymen; there are many of us Black and White Wuchangs in the world, not just the two of us.”

Zu An realized he was right. If there were only one pair of Black and White Wuchangs, they’d be overwhelmed, unable to keep up with the sheer number of deaths occurring daily in the world.

As they chatted, a rushing sound of water soon reached their ears from ahead. Zu An looked up and saw a wide river several miles directly in front of them.

In his previous life, he thought the Yellow River’s water was turbid enough, but this river’s water was countless times murkier, with a faint, unsettling reddish tint that made it exceptionally eerie and terrifying.

With Zu An’s cultivation, he could even faintly discern blurry ghostly figures in the water from time to time, which he presumed were the water spirits Black and White Wuchang had mentioned earlier.

These water spirits, forever trapped in the Styx, had faces that were horribly twisted and malevolent. They constantly tried to drag more people down into the water.

They found a perverse comfort in seeing others’ fates become as tragic as their own.

“The Styx is just ahead. We won’t accompany you any further, Brother Zu,” Black Wuchang said. As they spoke, both he and White Wuchang couldn’t help but cast a fearful glance at the river.

Zu An remembered their earlier warning about the Styx’s power. Even as official deities of the Underworld, if they fell in, they would lose all consciousness and be ensnared by the water spirits, never to be free. No wonder they were so reluctant to get closer.

“Thank you both, brothers. Once I’m settled, I’ll treat you to drinks,” Zu An said sincerely, bowing slightly. He mused that it was fortunate to have had them as guides; otherwise, he would have been utterly clueless about the Underworld, and it would have taken an eternity to uncover all this information.

Seeing how considerate he was, Black and White Wuchang beamed. “You’re too kind, brother,” Black Wuchang said. “We’ll have a proper reunion once you’re settled.”

After saying their goodbyes, they waved to Zu An. They seemed to take only two or three steps, yet with each stride, their forms moved several miles further, and soon their figures vanished from sight.

Zu An clicked his tongue silently. The Black and White Wuchangs were far more powerful than the Flame Demon Sea Fiends.

The thought that there were many more Black and White Wuchangs in the Underworld—essentially the standard civil servant here—shocked him, highlighting the immense power of the Netherworld.

Could a mere Skinned Ghost King truly cause such a commotion in this place?

And how could he possibly win that trial in such an environment?

For that matter, he didn’t even know where the trial was or how it began. He had subtly tried to get information from Black and White Wuchang during their journey, but they seemed entirely unaware of any such trial.

This was odd...

Before he knew it, he had reached the bank of the Styx River. In the distance, he saw countless departed souls queuing, boarding small boats one after another.

“Are those the Styx ferrymen?” Zu An wondered. He noticed the boats weren’t as small as he’d imagined; he’d expected vessels for only one or two people, but these appeared capable of seating dozens.

The ferrymen on the boats wore black coir raincoats and conical hats, their faces obscured.

Each held an oar, which they casually dipped into the Styx. Without any visible effort, a boat would sway and move towards the opposite bank.

Many souls even resorted to fighting on the bank for a spot on a boat.

Such struggles for places were common, yet the Styx ferrymen merely observed everything coldly, with no intention of intervening.

After all, whoever could pay the fare was allowed to board.

Zu An shook his head. The Styx ferrymen had no need to interfere; after all, the great Halls of Yama awaited these souls further on. The negative karma they accumulated by fighting here would surely lead to regret later.

Many souls even spotted Zu An and, observing his unusual demeanor, assumed he was an easy target. They surrounded him, intent on robbing him.

Unfortunately, as soon as they approached within a certain distance, their expressions changed. They felt an inexplicable pressure emanating from Zu An—an irresistible force, much like the deities of the Underworld they had previously encountered.

They scattered, turning and fleeing in a panic, knowing that if they got any closer, their very souls might disintegrate.

Just then, a Styx ferryman nearby noticed the commotion and glanced at Zu An. “Oh? A colleague, it seems,” he muttered.

Sensing his gaze, Zu An cupped his hands in greeting, offering a friendly gesture. “Brother...”

To his surprise, the other ferryman simply turned his head away, ignoring him completely.

Zu An’s expression immediately stiffened. It seemed these individuals weren’t as easy to deal with as Black and White Wuchang or Ox-Head and Horse-Face. No wonder Black and White Wuchang had described Styx ferrymen as exceptionally reclusive and difficult to approach.

However, he suddenly had an epiphany. He approached the Styx, extended his hand, and made a summoning gesture towards the middle of the vast river. Sure enough, a small boat materialized out of thin air and slowly drifted to the bank.

*Is this the boat the Underworld has assigned me?* Zu An wondered.

Without needing any instruction, he naturally stepped onto the boat and picked up the oar from the bow. Initially, many water spirits had swum over, attempting to drag him into the water, but upon sensing the boat and oar, they recoiled in fear. Still, they were reluctant to move too far away.

“Another ferryman!” some souls exclaimed, seeing the situation, and began rushing towards him.

Long queues stretched at the other ferrymen’s stations, and with no telling when they would cross the river there, they naturally swarmed towards this new passage.

Observing the chaotic scene, Zu An felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as if he were back on a crowded holiday trip from his previous life.

Soon, disputes also erupted in this new queue: people cutting in line, fighting, and hurling insults.

Zu An ignored them; he wasn’t bored enough to mediate disputes among a crowd of souls. Instead, he began to ponder.

How exactly was this trial supposed to begin? Surely, they wouldn’t expect him to be a ferryman for the rest of his existence here?

Wait, that mysterious colossal statue seemed to have mentioned that one needed an Underworld identity to participate in the trial. But now he was already a Styx ferryman—wasn’t that sufficient?

As he pondered, a commotion suddenly erupted nearby. Several souls were fighting for positions, and one was accidentally pushed to the bank, with a foot slipping into the waters of the Styx.