107-108

Chapter 107: Seeking Death

*Step, step, step.*

With stiff movements, the white man—no, the reanimated corpse—strode coldly down the hotel corridor.

Its vacant gaze swept over the surrounding rooms until it fixated on one. Extending a pale hand, it grasped the doorknob.

*Click, clack, snap.*

A twisted crack echoed as the knob broke off. Without a flicker of emotion, the corpse pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room remained as it was when Ah Hao had left.

On the nightstand lay the Soul-Calming Bell, silent and still.

The reanimated corpse stiffly turned its neck, its vacant eyes scanning the room.

Before long, the open bathroom door caught its attention.

With slow, deliberate steps, the corpse entered the bathroom.

It was greeted by the unmoving figure of the cadaverous Yin Corpse, standing lifelessly before the shower.

---

*"Hey, man!"*

The streets of London late at night.

A few Black men loitering on the sidewalk noticed a figure ahead. They exchanged silent glances before stepping forward to block the reanimated corpse's path.

"Looks like your friend had a bit too much to drink..."

One of the men eyed the Yin Corpse, supported by the reanimated corpse, with curiosity. His gaze lingered briefly on the talisman affixed to the Yin Corpse's forehead, but he shrugged and continued his 'work.'

"Need some help? London's not the safest place at night, after all."

Without waiting for a response, the men grabbed the two corpses roughly, dragging them into the dark recesses of the street.

*Thud!*

"Alright, buddy. Now that we've ensured your safety, it's your turn to show some gratitude."

Once in a shadowy corner, their friendly masks dropped, revealing their true intentions.

One of the men shoved the reanimated corpse against the wall with a heavy thud. The leader pulled a knife from his pocket, pressing it against the corpse's neck with a menacing grin.

"Just so we're clear, our services don't come cheap. If you can't cough up enough cash, I can't promise this knife won't leave a mark on you..."

Usually, by this point, their targets were trembling in fear, eagerly handing over whatever they had. Those who resisted were swiftly taught a harsh lesson.

But this time, the response was far from expected.

Neither of their victims reacted at all—not a single flicker of fear crossed their faces.

Of course, this wasn't surprising.

After all, one was a soulless reanimated corpse, and the other was the century-old Yin Corpse. Neither could comprehend human interaction.

"You think I'm joking?"

Unaware of the truth, the leader's anger flared at the corpses' cold indifference, interpreting it as mockery.

"You think this is a game, you white-skinned freak?"

He grabbed the reanimated corpse by the collar, pulling it close. Pressing the knife to its face, he snarled, "Do as I say, or you'll regret it!"

The ultimatum was clear.

The others closed in, surrounding the two corpses, hoping to pressure the reanimated one into submission.

But even now, the reanimated corpse remained unresponsive, its face emotionless.

"So, you're asking for it!"

The leader's rage reached its peak.

*Slash!*

He drove the knife into the reanimated corpse's torso, the blade sinking deep. Black blood oozed slowly from the wound.

Yet the reanimated corpse showed no reaction, as if the knife had pierced someone else entirely.

"Boss, something's not right with this guy..."

Seeing their victim's utter indifference, the others began to sense that something was amiss.

"Think he's on drugs or something?"

---

In a firelit chapel, shadows danced across the walls, twisting grotesquely.

Narcisse stood before the blazing altar, awaiting the return of his reanimated servant.

*Drip!*

A small wound opened on the toad perched nearby, oozing dark fluid. Narcisse frowned, sensing his servant's plight.

He gripped a bone dagger tightly, his expression grim as he issued a command.

"Eliminate the nuisance."

---

In the corner of the dark alley.

Following the voodoo master's order, the reanimated corpse lifted its stiff neck, fixing its vacant eyes on the Black man before it.

The next moment, it reached out, clamping its hand around the man's throat with inhuman strength.

*"Let... go... Can't... breathe..."*

The leader's face turned purple as the iron grip cut off his air. He flailed desperately, striking the corpse's arm to no avail. The hand around his neck remained unyielding.

"Boss!"

The others cried out, rushing to help. Their fists pummeled the reanimated corpse, but their blows landed with dull, useless thuds.

Unfeeling and unrelenting, the corpse paid no mind to their attacks. As a creature reanimated by sorcery, it felt no pain and knew no mercy.

Its strength was monstrous. With ease, it lifted the leader off the ground.

*Crack!*

Ignoring the others' attempts to intervene, the corpse's grip tightened. Bones snapped audibly as the leader's struggles ceased. His arms fell limp, and blood gushed from his gaping mouth.

Wielding the lifeless body like a sledgehammer, the reanimated corpse swung it effortlessly, smashing into the others with devastating force.

*Thud!*

*Crash! Crash!*

None noticed as blood splattered across the Yin Corpse's face.

Underneath the talisman, its nose twitched ever so slightly in response to the scent.

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 108: The Sacrifice*

"This is... the sacrifice?"

In an unnamed church in London.

The voodoo warlock, Narsis, glanced at the zombie corpse brought back by the revenant. A faint change flickered across his cold expression under the cloak.

Approaching the motionless zombie, Narsis was intensely curious. What kind of corpse would make the High Priest send him across such a long distance to find it?

His gaze settled on the yellow talisman paper affixed to the zombie's forehead, a flicker of doubt flashing in his eyes.

Without much hesitation, he reached out and removed the talisman paper.

The moment it was lifted, the previously motionless zombie abruptly opened its eyes.

Its body, infused with the blood of a Black robber, surged with primal aggression, launching a ferocious attack toward Narsis.

"Revenant, stop it!"

Narrowly avoiding the zombie’s sharp claws, Narsis urgently called out to the revenant nearby.

Obeying its master's command, the silent revenant stepped forward, intercepting the crazed zombie to shield Narsis.

*Bang!*

However, faced with the blockading revenant, the zombie swung its stiff arms like iron rods, striking the revenant with bone-crushing force. The revenant, strong enough to easily handle multiple robbers, collapsed under the zombie’s first blow, unable to hold its ground.

The sheer impact shattered the revenant’s bones completely.

Even in its undead state, incapable of fear or pain, the revenant could no longer fight with its fragmented bones.

Dragging its broken body, the revenant tried to carry out its protective orders but could no longer stand.

"Impossible!"

Watching his revenant fall with a single blow, Narsis’s cold face showed visible shock. As its master, he knew better than anyone the power of his revenant.

Such fearless servants were the most trusted tools of voodoo sorcerers.

Especially after the Great Cleansing, every revenant was an invaluable treasure for any warlock.

If not for the High Priest's direct orders, Narsis would never have performed the ritual to create this revenant.

These thoughts about the revenant flashed briefly through his mind.

Focusing on the uncontrollable zombie before him, Narsis reached into his cloak, intending to retrieve something.

But just then, the frenzied zombie suddenly halted its wild movements within the church. Sniffing the air, it seemed to catch a scent.

Under Narsis’s watchful gaze, the zombie crouched, crawling toward the altar. It stopped before a toad and lowered its head, voraciously sucking the black blood oozing from a wound on the creature’s back.

"What’s this?"

Watching the zombie drink blood from the voodoo toad, Narsis hesitated.

At that moment, the flames surrounding the altar began to flicker again. As the firelight danced, the High Priest’s twisted visage appeared within, roaring furiously.

"Narsis!"

"High Priest!"

Seeing the High Priest's face in the flames, Narsis ignored the zombie’s actions and turned to kneel inside the church, shouting reverently.

"Did you acquire the sacrifice?"

"Or have you disappointed me once again?"

The High Priest's distorted face flickered ominously in the flames as he questioned Narsis.

"Indeed, I have acquired it, High Priest," Narsis replied with deference, glancing at the zombie still drinking blood behind him.

"Good."

Hearing this, the High Priest’s visage wavered in the flames.

"With this sacrifice, we can complete the ritual and welcome the Voodoo Queen’s return."

"Bring the sacrifice back."

As the High Priest's final words faded, the flames surrounding the altar returned to their original, steady burn.

Slowly rising from the floor, Narsis cast a glance at the motionless revenant on the ground.

A guttural roar interrupted his thoughts.

Behind him, the zombie straightened, revealing the dried-up corpse of the toad at the altar's center.

Opening its blood-stained mouth, the zombie bared two sharp fangs.

"So, you like drinking blood, do you?"

Observing the zombie's transformation, a glimmer flickered in Narsis’s eyes beneath his hood. He grabbed the fallen revenant and thrust it toward the zombie.

The zombie sniffed at the offering. Without hesitation, it sank its sharp teeth into the revenant’s neck and began draining it.

Inside the church, Narsis watched the blood-soaked zombie and murmured to himself:

"Such a powerful corpse—wasting it as a mere sacrifice for the Queen is a pity. A revenant… a powerful revenant is your true destiny."

If he could transform this formidable body into a revenant, perhaps he would no longer fear the High Priest’s power. He might even replace him and become the new High Priest of Voodoo.

---

In a hotel:

“Unbelievable. Choosing that bald Westerner over a handsome, masculine guy like me...”

“And that Westerner—bald as an egg—still shamelessly flirting. Aren’t you worried about losing what little hair you have left?”

After a failed attempt at flirting, Ah Hao shuffled into the elevator, muttering to himself.

He had thought foreign women were bold and open-minded, expecting his charm to work wonders. But reality hit hard—without basic communication skills, even the boldest target was out of reach.

After an hour of awkwardly soaking in the pool and realizing his efforts were futile, Ah Hao begrudgingly gave up his attempts.

*Ding!*

Reaching his floor, Ah Hao shivered instinctively.

After spending over an hour in the water, he was now freezing, his mind foggy. All he wanted was to return to his room and nurse his wounded pride.

"Did I forget to close the door?"

Standing at his room’s entrance, Ah Hao frowned at the open door.

His memory was hazy after spending so long in the pool; he couldn’t recall what happened when he left.

But noticing the damaged lock, his expression changed drastically.

“Damn it!”

Rushing into the bathroom, panic filled his voice.

“This is bad. Really bad.”

“I actually lost someone’s ancestor!”

(End of Chapter)