Not a Coincidence

Although Shaya already knew the outcome.

This scene, however, had nothing to do with him; from beginning to end, he was merely a quiet observer.

The name Rick was already written in the Book of the Dead.

But clearly, this restaurant owner named Hart didn't believe it.

"Ah, is it ready?"

Sebas walked over from the side, breaking the somewhat frozen atmosphere.

He naturally sat down opposite Shaya, seemingly not noticing Hart standing to the side. He picked up a knife and fork, cut a piece of sausage, and put it in his mouth, then nodded with satisfaction.

"Mmm, that's the taste."

"How was work?" Shaya asked.

From Shaya's perspective, he didn't see Sebas. Instead, he saw a black chain fly out of the alley, extend into Rick's body, drag his soul out of his body, and pull it into the alley.

"It was okay," Sebas replied without looking up, continuing to work on the food in front of him with his knife and fork. "The customers weren't very cooperative, but I'm used to it."

After speaking, he finally noticed Hart standing to the side, a hint of confusion on his face.

"Is something wrong?"

He paused, then seemed to recall something and said, "Oh, oh, how much is it in total?"

Hart snapped back to attention and quickly said, "This one's on the house."

"Hm?" Sebas looked at Shaya with some confusion.

"The waiter here just accidentally knocked over my tea," Shaya said. "But it didn't spill on me."

Sebas understood and smiled at Hart, "Your service here is really good."

"As long as the two of you are satisfied," Hart said with a forced smile, though it was a bit stiff.

Then, he bowed and said, "I'll get back to work then. Enjoy your meal, gentlemen."

Sebas nodded, and Hart turned to leave, but his gaze couldn't help but drift back towards them.

However, Hart had no intention of asking Shaya if he was involved in what had just happened.

Being able to run a shop in this prime location for so many years proved he was a smart man, and the most important thing for a smart man to understand was to not say too much.

"I thought you would take longer," Shaya said.

"Hey, how much time can it take? I don't have to escort them myself. Once I deliver them, there are people down there to take over."

Sebas said while finishing the food on his plate.

He paused, then continued with a smile, "You don't know how ridiculous that guy was, trying to exchange half his money for his life."

He said with disdain, "He wanted to hold onto his money even in death. Such a hopelessly stupid idiot. It would be better if all that money went to me."

So, it wasn't enough? Shaya thought to himself.

Then, Shaya asked, "What will he encounter after he goes down to the Underworld?"

Sebas raised his eyebrows and looked at Shaya. He thought for a moment, seemingly organizing his words.

"Have you heard of the River Styx and the Styx Ferryman?"

Shaya nodded.

"After I send the soul down to the Underworld, the Styx Ferryman will ferry the soul across the River Styx to a vast gray plain. I prefer to call it the Land of Everlasting Flowers, though some people like to call it the Pastoral Fields of Truth."

Sebas said earnestly, "Honestly, compared to the subsequent procedures, this is the part I find the most unbearable."

"Oh?" Shaya asked with some interest. "Is the environment very harsh?"

"Not exactly harsh. It's just a transitional plain. After reaching the plain, people line up to be judged by the Hall of Judgment," Sebas said. "But the problem is, there are too many people, and too few people in the Hall of Judgment."

Sebas seemed to have been there before, as he spoke with a lingering sense of dread on his face.

"Imagine the grandest festival you've ever seen, a place packed with over a million people.

Then imagine it gets dark, with no light at all, completely silent, without the undulating waves of people.

Whispering crowds wander in the darkness, waiting for a festival that will never begin."

"Mmm," Shaya nodded gravely. "It does sound quite unbearable."

"I stayed in that damned place for two hundred years!"

Sebas cursed. "Those bastards in the Hall of Judgment only care about maintaining their power and never think about improving their constipated efficiency!"

Sebas took a deep breath. "I apologize, sir, I lost my composure."

"I understand," Shaya said.

Sebas continued, "The subsequent procedures are simpler. After the souls of the dead are judged, those found guilty will receive punishments of varying degrees in the Place of Suffering based on their crimes.

As for those found innocent, they will live in the Realm of Bliss, enjoying a life of abundance and happiness, singing and dancing, until they themselves no longer wish to live and choose reincarnation to start a new life."

He paused, then added, "Oh, right. If one enters the Realm of Bliss three times in a row through reincarnation, they will enter the Sacred Isles, which is the dwelling place of heroes."

Shaya nodded, "Sounds pretty similar to the Underworld in other mythologies."

Whether it was the Six Paths of Reincarnation from his homeland, the Eighteen Levels of Hell, or the legends from Egyptian mythology about weighing the heart for the afterlife, the underlying logic was always about rewarding good and punishing evil.

[He's even been to the Underworlds of several other pantheons!]

A tempest of shock churned within Sebas, but his expression remained utterly unchanged.

Although the Age of Gods had ended long before he became a Grim Reaper, he could still learn about that era from many of his predecessors.

The struggle for divine authority and believers was an unending war.

Therefore, the relationships between the various pantheons were definitely not good.

They were extremely sensitive to gods from other realms entering their divine domains, let alone the Underworld, which was quite special to any pantheon.

And the person before him had not only entered an Underworld but multiple ones.

This was something even true gods couldn't achieve.

"What's wrong?"

Shaya asked, a little confused, looking at the silent Sebas.

"No, nothing," Sebas picked up a napkin from the side and wiped his mouth. "Are you full?"

"Pretty much," Shaya replied.

"Then let's head to the next place. We have to pick up quite a few people this time," Sebas said.

"Was it an accident? Or a natural disaster?" Shaya inquired.

"You'll know when we get there."

As they chatted, the two rose from their chairs and slowly left.

Hart, in the kitchen, had been watching them leave with his peripheral vision. On the quiet city streets, they walked slowly, appearing no different from the people around them.

It was as if they were just two ordinary people in this city.

Was it a coincidence?

Hart recalled the person's every word and action, as well as what he had said to him at the end. He shook his head.

It wasn't a coincidence.