"Why don’t you guys try to send a million-ton warhead down there by any ans necessary?"
"If we could send it down, these guys would probably ship over ten million tons without batting an eye."
"..."
Cai Qidong was speechless. Honestly, right now, the only things we can be sure to get through are these burial items.
If they really could send down more, the Scorching Sun Departnt would absolutely send an unmanned chanic below; Big Mushroom wouldn’t even flinch.
Cai Qidong picked up the crossbow arm, estimating it to be a ter and a half long, with a carbon fiber shell and reinforced skeleton inside.
"Let’s try it first, see if you guys’ ridiculous stuff can count as burial items..."
"Why wouldn’t it count? It’s exterior decoration. According to archaeological digs, ancient burial goods sotis wrapped candles in gold, totally normal. This one just fits the era—shouldn’t be an issue."
The Little Thief was called in during the weekend, holidays off, to prep for ga login in this room full of detectors.
No one dared risk soul clothing, but for burial goods, whatever, worst case you just can’t get into the Netherworld.
Just as they were about to begin, soone ca in to report.
"Minister, just got news—a player voluntarily contacted us, says they’re willing to cooperate, wants us to check so things for them. Probably word relayed by Su Yue, through the grapevine."
"Go check."
...
Wen Yan saw a flash of faint light not far in front of the gates, and Fu Guangfei appeared again.
As soon as he appeared, Fu Guangfei was crushed to the ground by the heavy load on him.
Wen Yan strode forward, his eyes lighting up as he saw what Fu Guangfei had brought.
He grabbed the bulky crossbow arm with one hand and tucked the rest under his arm.
"There really are so pros in the Scorching Sun Departnt. How do you put this thing together again?"
Fu Guangfei coached Wen Yan through assembly, recalling the process he’d just watched several tis.
Soon, Wen Yan was holding a huge ballista—one and a half ters in length, with a bow the sa size, and weighing at least several dozen kilos.
Wen Yan tried to light the candle at the front of the crossbow arm, but even the lighter couldn’t get it going.
"They say it’s got Everbright Lamp oil inside. Ordinary fire won’t catch."
Wen Yan extended a finger, gathered his Yang Energy, forcibly condensed a spark, and lit the candle up front. The fla blazed, its scorching power rippling outwards in waves, so strong even the Little Thief couldn’t stand it, backing away a bit.
"Anything else to watch out for?"
"Accuracy’s a little off, so don’t shoot at anything within ten ters."
"Huh? Isn’t accuracy better when you’re closer?"
Wen Yan didn’t bother arguing. Holding the hefty Incense Candle Crossbow in both hands, veins bulging in his arms, he drew the bowstring and loaded in an incense stick—thick as a baby’s arm, inside a protective tube.
He aid north and pulled the trigger.
His body jolted, barely keeping his balance. All anyone saw was a flash of fire, streaking out like lightning with a sharp crack.
In the distance—a boom, an explosion. Fire and lightning covered at least a dozen ters wide; even with nothing to burn, the flas raged for a full thirty seconds before dying down.
Well, now you know why you shouldn’t fire at anything inside ten ters.
"No wonder the incense sticks are sealed in those tubes. This thing packs a punch—Scorching Sun’s got real talent."
The Little Thief swallowed hard, cold sweat almost breaking out. He’s the one who had to lie next to this thing to enter the Netherworld.
"The weapon’s nice, but the bolts—no, the incense sticks—are a bit scarce. We’ll need at least four or five crates."
"Prepared four crates, but I can’t carry them. Barely managed to bring one down..."
"Sha."
"Don’t wander off—it’s dangerous here. Once you’re back, do a favor and ask about sothing..."
Wen Yan shared the intel, made sure Fu Guangfei morized it, then told him to hurry back. No ti-wasting now.
Another day passed, and the ground trembled again.
When Wen Yan looked north, even through the mist, he could faintly make out the ridge.
With this fog ssing with visibility, the fact he could see it from the ground ant it was within twenty kiloters at most.
Far off, deep in the mountains—
Silhouettes erged, walking south.
Soon after, the sentry paper figures sounded the alarm; Wen Yan hefted the Incense Candle Ballista and headed north.
Gazing at the figures erging from the darkness, Wen Yan frowned slightly.
He loosed a bolt—fire and thunder flared up—fire erupted within a dozen ters, lighting up everything.
Wen Yan saw them: each decked in ancient costu, armored only on chest and back, wielding rusted spears and swords, all different, all kinds of grueso deaths—Ghosts.
In the flas they disintegrated, leaving only rusted weapons scattered on the ground.
But further back, even more Ghosts were closing in.
As the earth trembled, that shadowy outline of the ridge beca even clearer. He could already feel it—even the wind was carrying waves of yin evil energy from there to here.
Wen Yan grinned, firing off several more incense sticks to clear the field.
Then he returned to the manor and gathered the paper figures.
Looking at the paper figures, Wen Yan reached out, activated the Blood Warm Jade’s power, and blessed each paper figure with Yang Energy.
"You guard the manor. I’ll be right back."
Wen Yan slung the Incense Candle Ballista over his shoulder and marched north.
Before, he’d been holding back, terrified of getting lost and never making it ho.
But now he was close enough—plus, every paper figure was blessed with Yang Energy, the courtyard had an incense burner with a thick incense stick, also blessed with Yang Energy.
With all these as beacons, as long as he didn’t go too far, he wasn’t worried about getting lost.
Just then, a Long Talisman descended. Wen Yan glanced at it and reached out to let the Long Talisman turn to ash.
He strode north, Yang Energy blazing, bulling his way straight toward the mountains.
"Old bastard, just stay dead—stop pretending to be hot shit. You really think I’m scared of you?"
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