Chapter 102: The True Emissary of Hell

Qin Yang stirred awake in a haze.

It was still the single-bed room of the Black Prison, but unlike the first time he had opened his eyes, the room was now crowded with people.

Wei Xiaoran’s eyes were red and swollen; she had clearly cried herself nearly to pieces. The rest, Wei Boyang among them, all wore grim, livid expressions, as though they had suffered a profound humiliation.

Seeing Qin Yang awake, Wei Xiaoran’s tears began to fall again. “Qin Yang, I-I’m sorry.”

“Why are you crying?” Qin Yang said with a smile. He lifted his sleeve and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Didn’t I tell you already? I was certain they’d send me back. It was bound to happen.”

“Qin Yang, I’m sorry,” Wei Boyang said in shame. “I, I never thought they would stoop to something so disgraceful.”

“All right, enough with that.” Qin Yang waved it away. “I was prepared for it.”

“Damn it, I can’t swallow this insult,” several of the prisoners said angrily. “Too shameless.”

“If I had a gun, I’d break out and settle the score with them.”

“Damn fools. Good intentions and this is the thanks we get.”

Everyone vented their anger all at once. Qin Yang was touched as well. At the very least, these people had truly been thinking of him. He said, “It’s fine. I’m thick-skinned and don’t care about this sort of thing. I’ve been screwed over more than once or twice anyway. Mind if I sit alone for a while?”

“Ah.”

Wei Boyang sighed and led the others out.

Once they were gone, Qin Yang broke into a wide grin. He smiled so hard his whole body trembled with excitement, yet made no sound. The butler could not help saying, “Look at you. Such a poor showing. It’s only that your Hell affinity has shot up. Why are you so thrilled?”

“It’s not just that,” Yu Wen Rounu said helplessly. “Qin Yang is too good at putting on an act. Has Chinese medicine really declined so badly nowadays? They can’t even tell that a condition like this can’t be cured by just two or three prescriptions? If it were truly that simple, then a grave injury to the marrow would never have left so many doctors sighing in defeat. The old general’s five elemental energies have only been temporarily restored. To maintain them, that is far from enough.”

“How many prescriptions would it take at minimum?” the butler asked with a laugh.

“Twelve more,” Yu Wen Rounu replied. “Those twelve prescriptions would need to be changed once a year. They could prolong his life for twelve years. After that, it would be left to fate.”

But Qin Yang paid them no mind. “None of that matters. What matters is that my Hell affinity has risen dramatically. The daily absorption has reached one thousand. And that’s only the result of extending his life by one month. If I extend it for a year, the amount will increase again.”

As he spoke, Qin Yang sat down cross-legged.

Once his Yin-Yang Eyes opened, countless black wraith-streamers threaded through layer after layer of walls and surged into Hell. Before being locked in the Black Prison, the number of wraiths inside him had already reached three thousand. During the more than ten days in the prison, by absorbing the nearby dead, that number had gradually risen to five thousand. If he could continue absorbing one thousand a day, then in five days Qin Yang would reach ten thousand. By then, the Hell mission system would awaken, and his rate of growth would increase dramatically.

As for his soul points, they remained at five hundred. He had no intention of spending them to raise his total, because according to the butler, once the mission system opened, soul points would have many more uses. They would no longer be limited to improving physical attributes and extracting wraith memories. In truth, Qin Yang rarely relied on soul points to forcibly read the memories of the dead.

The true nature of Hell had not yet been fully revealed. Qin Yang understood clearly that only when the mission system opened would he truly become Hell’s spokesperson.

He stepped out of the room.

In the cafeteria, everyone had gathered and was chatting animatedly, mostly denouncing that faithless bastard. When they saw Qin Yang come out, they fell silent one after another. Qin Yang smiled. “All right. Something this small won’t drag me down. Teach me to shoot. We’ve still got plenty of time ahead, and I don’t want to keep holding the team back in Counter-Strike.”

Everyone exchanged smiles.

No one bothered arguing about the nonsense anymore. They led Qin Yang to the firing range. The weapons there were standard issue, and of course the ammunition was strictly controlled. Wei Boyang knew these men would not go too far, so he did not restrict their use of the range. This time, the one teaching Qin Yang to shoot was Chen Yao, along with several sharpshooters. In return for kindness, Qin Yang was equally generous and brought out all the oldest hand-to-hand combat techniques from the special forces.

Though those combat skills were already outdated, far inferior to the increasingly lethal techniques of modern battle, they still thrilled the others beyond measure. After all, what Qin Yang was teaching them were the combat methods of the oldest special forces unit in the entire nation. That was a kind of inherited honor.

Han Mufeng had already marveled at Qin Yang’s learning ability, and when it was displayed again, Chen Yao and the others were even more shocked. He learned far too quickly, to an absurd degree. One demonstration was all it took, and he could even apply it flexibly. Whether it was stationary shooting, moving shooting, or even moving suppressive fire, Qin Yang could produce a perfect answer. Everyone believed without doubt that Qin Yang was born with the shape of a killing machine.

As for Wei Xiaoran, she did her best to make exquisite dishes to make it up to Qin Yang. After all, she had taken part in persuading him to save people. Though it had been out of kindness, she had never imagined things would come to this. Even Qin Yang and the others brought out a great many jokes that were almost out of date in an attempt to comfort her.

Five days was neither long nor short.

At twelve oh five on the night of the fourth day, after Qin Yang had absorbed one thousand first-tier wraiths from the huge graveyard not far away, he sat quietly in the room.

“At last, it’s enough,” the butler said with a deep breath. “Qin Yang, from this day on, you are truly Hell’s spokesperson.”

Qin Yang, immersed in Hell’s space, watched as a massive plume of black energy surged from the ancient, mysterious, and dark Hell palace. Cries and howls of ghosts and gods echoed from within. Even around Qin Yang’s true body, strands of black wraith energy continued to coil around him. The people in the Black Prison had already gone to rest, and no one could see the demonic spectacle unfolding in this room.

A stream of black mist endlessly tempered his body. Qin Yang could clearly feel the power within him rising step by step, climbing to a terrifying level. His mind grew ever clearer, and his perception strengthened more and more.

“Is this the transformation?” Qin Yang asked in surprise.

The butler said softly, “Tempering the body is only the most basic part. Hell must confirm that your strength is sufficient to carry out missions.”

After the black aura from the palace had completely filled his body and even the entire Hell space, a sphere of black radiance appeared before Qin Yang’s eyes. When it flashed again, there stood two people in black robes. Their faces could not be seen; darkness concealed them completely.

“These are first-tier specter soldiers,” the butler said. “They can assist you in completing certain missions. You can spend one thousand soul points to merge with a first-tier specter soldier. As for combat strength, they should have no problem dealing with Ji Liehu’s men, Zhang Qi and Li Meng. Most importantly, they are born nightmare killers. Through constant slaughter, they can improve their own strength. And once you reach second-tier Hell, you will be able to fuse with second-tier specter soldiers using ten thousand soul points. In terms of combat power, they are top-tier even among second-tier wraiths when they were alive. In other words, they are only a little weaker than the Qian Haoran you killed. Of course, I still advise you to steadily start by upgrading first-tier specter soldiers. Second-tier ones consume far too many soul points.”

“Really?” Qin Yang asked, quite excited.

Although Qian Haoran had been killed fairly decisively by his own hand, his combat power was beyond question. If not for the trap, dealing with Qian Haoran would certainly have come at a considerable cost.

“Don’t get too excited yet. Specter soldiers are not merely there to fight for you. They can also send large numbers of wraiths into Hell. How many depends entirely on your Hell affinity. For example, right now you can absorb one thousand wraiths a day, and each of these two specter soldiers can send in one hundred for you. That is equivalent to the ability you had when you first obtained Hell.”

“Most importantly, you can borrow their eyes to see what they see. And the more you learn, the more skills they will inherit from you in turn. Of course, the effect will be somewhat weaker, but the more proficient you become, the stronger they will naturally grow as well,” the butler said excitedly.

“Damn, that’s some good stuff,” Qin Yang said, licking his lips.

Just then, a notice appeared within the Hell palace, like an ancient scroll, and fell into Qin Yang’s hands. When he opened it, the first mission was listed there.

“Take lives. Claim the lives of twelve members of the Holy War of Terror. Reward: any skill from a third-tier wraith.”

“I just want to ask one thing. I’m trapped in the Black Prison and can’t get out right now. How am I supposed to take anyone’s life? These two first-tier specter soldiers aren’t strong enough to take on those twelve people,” Qin Yang asked helplessly. “How am I supposed to complete this mission?”

“If you think the opening of the Hell mission system brings only these benefits, then you are sorely mistaken. Just watch,” the butler said with excitement.

“What, am I supposed to have someone invite me out so I can kill people?” Qin Yang said, lying back on the bed and rolling his eyes.

The butler laughed. “Hell is the resting place of the dead. To say it cannot influence the mortal world would be wrong. Besides, this is a Hell mission. To put it simply, when Hell issues a named mission, it means that person’s life has already reached its end. If you kill them, there will be a reward. If you don’t, someone else will kill them anyway, or they will die in all manner of accidents. Since Hell has issued the mission to you, it is effectively granting you the priority right to take their lives. Based on various factors and so on, tomorrow you will receive action intelligence related to the Hell mission, and you will be one of the operatives. It’s all rather profound. Just wait and see tomorrow.”