As long as you have the courage, fierce ghosts go on maternity leave.

Chapter 213: Voodoo doll



Chapter 213: Voodoo doll

A black whip instantly transformed into a bolt of black lightning, wrapping directly around the muscular male ghost’s neck before violently pulling him towards Alexander.

The muscular ghost had not anticipated that Alexander would actually dare to make a move in the mansion of the city lord, and he was immediately choked by Alexander.

However, the force transmitted to him from the hand around his neck made the muscular ghost hesitate. Too weak!

Even with the effects of the ghost cigarette, Alexander’s current level was only that of Fierce, making the muscular ghost realize something was amiss.

This is definitely not the power of a Ghost King! He was certain that he could break free with his own innate abilities.

Before the muscular ghost could utter a word, his entire body lost sensation from the neck down—electrical paralysis! As the muscular ghost was paralyzed, Alexander channeled his ghostly energy and applied force with his palm.

Although Alexander was only at the Fierce level, his physical strength was almost at the level of a Ghost General. Killing a mere soldier ghost was not difficult for him, especially one that had lost the ability to resist.

With a crisp snap, the muscular male ghost’s neck twisted, and he lost all signs of life.

"In consideration of Miss Anlan, I’ll leave your corpse intact," Alexander nonchalantly said as he tossed the lifeless body aside.

Had he truly been as powerful as a Ghost King named Edward, what would have remained would not have been a ghostly corpse but a mist of blood.

"Mr. Edward," Anlan looked visibly upset. It was not that she doubted Alexander’s identity. After all, from the perspective of all the evil ghosts, no "chosen one" could possibly have this level of strength.

Moreover, Alexander had a perfectly crafted temporary mask as a disguise, leaving no room for suspicion.

While Anlan was indeed impressed and inwardly found Alexander attractive, his actions were an affront to her status as the adopted daughter of the city lord.

"Miss Anlan, please forgive my recklessness," Alexander said, smiling slightly as he placed his hand on his chest and bowed to Anlan in a gentlemanly manner. "I think we should find a private space so I can express my apologies to you properly."

A private space to express his apologies? Was something... exciting going to happen? Anlan immediately perked up.

Forget the muscular male ghost, forget Soren, forget saving face—let all of that go to hell!

The first son, Hurricane, the second son, Louis, the third son, HongMu, and herself.

On the surface, these four, as the adopted children of the empress, should be the most revered individuals in the entire dark underworld. However, a glance at their cultivation levels would quickly reveal that their status was not as lofty as one might imagine.

After all, in this terrifying world, the concept of lifespan does not exist. Infighting among family members, even to the extent of fathers and sons killing each other to gain inheritance, was the norm.

Affection among these malevolent ghosts existed, but it was even rarer than top-tier cigarettes.

Now, the famous Ghost King Edward was apparently looking to align himself with her, even becoming intimate with her. And he was so handsome, so gentlemanly, so elegant!

What could possibly happen when they find a private place to express apologies? Just the thought was enough to make Anlan quiver in anticipation, almost reaching a climax.

"Mr. Edward, come with me!" Anlan, without any hesitation, took Alexander’s hand and headed towards a chamber off to the side of the main hall.

"Damn it! She got to him first again!"

"How splendid it would be to spend a night in the arms of the elegant Mr. Edward!"

"That greedy wench! Every time there’s something good, she wants it all to herself—so much for sisterhood! She never lets us share!"

As soon as Anlan left, the female ghosts at the banquet began to whisper among themselves, their demeanor entirely different from the intimate sisterly vibe they had just moments ago.

Meanwhile, Anlan had led Alexander into a bedroom in the back hall. Unlike the luxurious and elegant style of the exterior, this bedroom seemed to encapsulate the real, terrifying world.

Several floating skulls hovered in the air, their eye sockets glowing with a faint green light. Human skins stretched across the walls. A large red bed that could accommodate six or seven people dominated half the room.

On closer inspection, the bed seemed to be made of some sort of flesh; some parts even squirmed, as if arms reached out from it to scratch the surroundings.

"My love, I want you! Right here, Anlan will agree to anything you say! If I ever become the ruler of this world, you will be its king!"

As soon as they entered the room, Anlan pounced on Alexander. Her body twisted around his like a snake, and her hand began to move upward along his chest towards his mask.

Without hesitation, Alexander pushed Anlan away, his expression turning cold. Although he wasn’t a prude, he found Anlan somewhat repulsive. Given her personality, she had probably been intimate with at least ten thousand men—a conservative estimate at that.

Moreover, the thought of engaging in anything intimate in this sort of environment made him shudder.

"Edward, how dare you! Do you really think I wouldn’t kill you?" Anlan’s face also hardened as she was pushed away, her voice laced with fury.

"Lady of the mansion, even if you’re in a difficult situation, I would think you’d have some means to deal with a Ghost King," Alexander said, his tone icy and tinged with disdain. "But can your methods also deal with your two brothers?"

"What do you mean by that?" Anlan’s expression shifted, and she hastily asked for clarification.

"Today, I visited Undead Street and picked up someone. Do you know who it is?" Alexander asked, unruffled.

"I have my ways of knowing your whereabouts. But what does picking someone up have to do with me... Wait, did you say ’someone’? Those insects?"

"Indeed! This person might be someone Lady Anlan has heard of." Alexander nodded and slowly curled his lips into a grin,"The Chosen One, Alexander, number 44011."

"Alexander? Louis’s brother? What do you want with him? Isn’t Louis in Blood Moon Town?" Anlan’s expression changed abruptly, her anger replaced by urgent curiosity.

"The person who sent me to pick him up wasn’t Louis, but the mansion’s lord. And not just Alexander—I also picked up other top Chosen Ones from various districts," Alexander clarified.

Lying wasn’t as simple as concocting random stories. Even the most perfect lie would have flaws. But if the information given was real, then even if there were inconsistencies, the other person would naturally fill in the gaps.

"My mother is planning to hold a special instance in the mansion? Impossible! The current Chosen Ones are not nearly qualified enough. Even the weakest of our mansion’s guards are at the Prince level, and even servants and maids possess soldier-level strength. What could those insects possibly do at the mansion?"

Anlan’s initial reaction was disbelief, but her brows furrowed as if she’d considered something. "Is it because of us? What is she planning? To get rid of us? That would ruin her reputation! Besides, the current Chosen Ones don’t have the strength to eliminate us."

"Have you never considered the connection between Louis’s departure and the mansion starting this special instance?" Alexander continued to prod without giving anything away.

"The heir!" Anlan exclaimed. "Louis carries forbidden power and can’t become the mansion lord; he knows this himself. The situation in the horror world is currently unclear; Undead City has absorbed three smaller cities, and the Abyss has directly invaded other ghost cities! Is my mother finally succumbing to the pressure and about to confirm her successor?"

Well done!

The best way to deceive is indeed through the guidance of real information. The volume of information in this conversation was massive, containing details that even Edward might not know about matters beyond the dark hell.

After a thorough analysis, Anlan turns her gaze towards Alexander and begins to speculate: "Mr. Edward, are you betting early? Louis is the guardian deity of the Dark Hell, but his strength isn’t particularly high, and his Forbidden Power is also hard to fully unleash.

Other ghost towns would never allow a ruler with Forbidden Power to emerge. This is also why my second brother withdrew from the inheritance struggle. Mr. Edward, you’re the most famous among us, but why did you choose me? Among the three, my influence should be the weakest, right?"

Anlan eyes Alexander skeptically. The mask’s capabilities are powerful and perfectly imitate Edward’s aura. Despite this, Anlan still harbors doubts.

Alexander, having already prepared his response, reveals a confident smile and says, "The weakest can best demonstrate my value. Besides, if you were to inherit the position of ruler, you’d become the new Empress, which would be even more interesting."

Feeling inspired by Alexander’s confidence, Anlan flushes and leans into his arms, her hands gripping his neck, seductively saying, "Mr. Edward, don’t you want to get a taste of the future Empress now? I’ll listen to your every command at this moment."

Though deceitful, Alexander has no plans to compromise his principles. He wraps his arm around Anlan’s slim waist, halting her twisting body, and calmly states,

"The best things are worth saving for last. The instance is about to begin and we don’t have much time! This inheritance struggle mainly involves competition between the chosen ones, and it’s a test for all of you. How well the chosen ones can perform is up to you."

Anlan frowns, saying, "How could my mother arrange such a thing! What can those insects do? I may have some depth, but I can’t compare to my brothers. You’re not one of the chosen one; this is practically a guaranteed loss!"

Alexander grins, his mask dissolving to reveal his true aura. "Who says I can’t be one of the chosen one?"

"You’re a human!" Anlan’s face changes, her eyes filled with incredulity, "How did you manage this? Could it be that you..."

Clearly, Anlan is beginning to doubt his identity.

"Chosen one can disguise as evil ghosts; I naturally have a way to disguise as one of the chosen. Like this," Alexander says, extending his hand to reveal an item he’s long had but never used.

The Make-up Artist Puppet

Description: Originally a modest make-up artist, he grew up with a girl but ultimately could not withstand the pressures of life.

...

Later, someone used him and materials in a jar to create this puppet. Summoned by blood, he will assist you with your makeup!

Effect: Summon the sealed make-up artist to disguise you as any evil ghost, usable three times!

"Wasted objects are the fault of wasted chosen," Alexander thinks, recalling lessons from his past life. Minor things can often have unexpectedly significant impacts.

"No wonder!" Anlan exclaims joyfully. "If you can disguise as one of the chosen one, then those insects are no match for you. It looks like we’re certain to win!"

"Don’t get ahead of yourself," Alexander shakes his head. "Identity is not a concern; I’ve already made arrangements with Alexander. For this event, I am chosen number 44011, Alexander.

But do you think your brothers don’t have trump cards? Even if you are oppressed, your status still matters. We don’t know how the ruler has designed the inheritance struggle, but a Ghost King isn’t necessarily a sure win."

"This..." Anlan hesitates, clearly contemplating.

"What are you hesitating for? This is a struggle for inheritance! What’s the use of keeping your trump card for later when you could lose the inheritance? Do you think your brothers will care about your trump card if they get the inheritance? At that time, numerous Dark Hell forces will inevitably gravitate towards them."

Alexander’s words seem to solidify Anlan’s resolve. Biting her lip, she reveals a small, black ghost orb which then transforms into a hand-sized voodoo doll made from black hair.

"So this is your trump card," Alexander thinks, examining the doll with familiarity, already considering its potential uses.


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