Death Was Everywhere

In midair, a boy and a girl who looked seven or eight years old wore their hair in little braids. Their rosy cheeks split into smiles, revealing a pair of small canine teeth. They looked rather adorable.

But upon closer inspection, under the red light shining all around, there were no reflections of them on the calm, rippleless lake.

Zhao Ke's pupils constricted. He swiftly lowered the black curtain he had lifted, leaving only an inconspicuous slit. He crouched down, hiding his silhouette as much as possible, and secretly observed through the gap in the curtain.

The two children, dressed like flower attendants, held flower baskets in their hands and wore pairs of bells on their feet. As they walked, they grabbed handfuls of white paper from the baskets and scattered them. Zhao Ke saw that the white paper was actually funeral money with square holes in the middle.

In the blink of an eye, it covered the entire lake. The white ghost money looked indescribably eerie beneath the strange red light surrounding it.

The two children scattered paper money in front, while behind them came waves of gongs and drums. A low suona played a tune whose rhythm sounded brisk, yet carried an inexplicably lifeless air, more like the mourning music played at a funeral.

A black, square sedan chair was carried by four burly men, following closely behind the two children.

Zhao Ke took a look. The four men appeared strong and sturdy, but when he looked higher, he discovered that they had no faces at all. Their faces were blank and spotless, like the white dragon tiles in mahjong.

Zhao Ke glanced at the river beneath their feet. Sure enough, apart from the floating sedan chair, the four men could not be seen at all. Behind them was also a band playing funeral music. It looked lively enough, but on the river's surface, other than the shadow of the black sedan chair, nothing else could be seen.

Could they be ghosts?

They said only ghosts had no shadows, but if they really were ghosts, why were they carrying a sedan chair?

Watching the procession of "people" draw closer and closer, Zhao Ke lay prone on the boat and carefully held his breath. Both hands gripped his dagger so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His legs curled slightly beneath him as he crouched in the cabin like a frog that had long been gathering strength. A cold, murderous glint flashed through his eyes from time to time, ready to deliver a fatal strike at any moment.

"Dong..."

At that moment, however, Zhao Ke noticed that the small boat not far to his side suddenly shook violently. Though it quickly settled, the boat's slight sway sent ripples spreading across the tranquil river.

Normally, that would have meant nothing. But now, with every boat floating on the water, the entire scene felt like a frozen picture. The splashes suddenly stirred upon the lake instantly became the most discordant element within it.

The suona, gongs, and drums abruptly stopped. The lively river fell deathly silent in an instant. Pairs of icy eyes fixed upon that small boat, and the air seemed to freeze solid.

"Run!"

A shriek came from inside the boat's cabin. Two black figures leaped out one after another.

The sudden appearance of the two people startled Zhao Ke.

One of them tapped the surface of the water with the tip of his foot, sending himself flying three or four zhang sideways. He landed on a small boat, borrowed the force to leap again, and by the time his figure could be seen clearly, he had already landed on another boat.

The other was even more direct. He plunged headfirst into the water. A splash rose from the river, and when Zhao Ke looked again, the person had vanished without a trace.

"Postmen!"

The two moved quickly, but Zhao Ke saw clearly that as they acted, a flash of light flickered behind each of them, like the mark that erupted when they activated the abilities of their stamps.

Zhao Ke's heart sank. If those two were postmen, then... were there other postmen on the surrounding boats? Had his every move just now already drawn the attention of the others?

"Living people! Kill them!"

The flower children floating in midair instantly lost their cheerful smiles. Their expressions turned sinister, fangs protruding from their mouths. With a wave of a hand, black mist suddenly surged up around them.

"Kill them!"

Rotting human faces emerged from the black mist, tangled together like gelatin. It swept across the lake, split in two, and pursued the pair.

"Damn it!"

Seeing the black mist sweeping toward him from behind, the figure's expression suddenly changed. He spun around sharply, and a pitch-black gun barrel appeared in his hand.

"Bang bang bang..."

Flames spat from the muzzle, blasting three fist-sized holes through the black mist in midair. Not only that, black smoke burned around the edges of each wound. It seemed the bullets he fired were no ordinary bullets.

A gun!

Zhao Ke's brows drew together. He had considered before whether modern weapons could be converted into the Post Album, but such things were strictly controlled in China.

Even if Lei Ke had not resigned, the difficulty and risk of getting him a handgun were more than either Zhao Ke or Lei Ke could bear.

And the other man was clearly an expert marksman. Whether drawing his gun or firing, every movement was nearly flawless.

"It hurts!"

Wounded by the man's special bullets, the faces in the black mist twisted together. Screams rang out from men and women, old and young alike, as though a group of women and children were shrieking and wailing.

"Hmph!"

Seeing this, the man sneered coldly. Relying on his exceptional speed, he darted rapidly between the boats while raising his pistol and continuously firing precise shots into the black mist.

"Bang bang bang..."

The bullets traced strange paths through the air. Even while moving at high speed, every shot struck the black mist with perfect accuracy. The angles were tricky and unpredictable; calling it a one-sided slaughter would not have been an exaggeration.

Every bullet blasted a hole in the black mist. The mist, originally half a person tall, was shattered to pieces in an instant.

But just then, Zhao Ke suddenly heard a burst of "hehehe" laughter from above his head. Looking up, he saw the pair of flower children suspended in midair lightly clap their hands.

"Clap clap..."

A chilly wind blew past, and the large red lanterns lining both sides of the riverbed went out simultaneously, plunging the entire river into darkness.

But soon, the extinguished lanterns lit up again. Only, the lanterns had previously been red, while now... they were all white.

For some reason, the sight of the lanterns relighting around him immediately gave Zhao Ke an intense sense of danger.

He instinctively drew himself deeper into the boat's cabin, clenching both fists tightly. At the same time, he cast a sidelong glance at the flower children in midair—and froze.

Of the two flower children who had been in midair, only the girl remained. Under the lantern light, her little face looked deathly pale. Floating in the air, she let out a silver-bell-like string of giggles.

The laughter sent chills down one's spine.

Clearly, the postman darting swiftly between the boats had no idea that one of the flower children had disappeared. The sudden daylight-bright illumination around him caught him off guard. His eyes could not adapt to the abrupt glare, and he paused in a daze before involuntarily slowing down.

The instant he stopped, a strange "hehehe" laugh suddenly came from behind him. At the sound, the postman's face stiffened. It was as though someone had slipped a venomous snake down his collar, making every hair on his body stand on end.

He whirled around and saw the half-person-tall little boy standing behind him at some unknown point. Even stranger, the boy held a bright red heart in his hand, beating powerfully against his palm.

Looking down, the postman saw that a hole as wide as a bowl had appeared in his chest at some unknown time.

He stared blankly for a moment, then tipped backward. With a "plop!", his body fell straight into the river. After splashing up water, only his bewildered face floated on the surface.

Blood dyed the surrounding river water dark red. The man was obviously dead beyond any doubt.

At the same time, a stream of bubbles suddenly rose from the water at the other end of the river.

"Glub glub glub..."

Someone seemed to be struggling desperately beneath the water. A hand reached out, flailed wildly through the air a few times, then was dragged back beneath the surface.

Before long, a mass of black mist emerged from beneath the water. A fresh human face had appeared on it, its eyes hollow as its open mouth let out a weak groan.

Hiding in the boat's cabin, Zhao Ke took a deep breath. His back was drenched in cold sweat.

At the instant the little boy attacked, Zhao Ke had even felt as if someone had gripped his throat, leaving him unable to breathe.

The two postmen's strength had completely surpassed his own. That bizarre gunmanship would have turned him into a beehive before he even had the chance to escape.

Yet such an expert had become a corpse in merely a few breaths.

It made Zhao Ke realize that even with the abilities of special stamps, thinking he could run rampant through the Horror Space was nothing more than a joke.

With the two troublesome living people dead, cheerful smiles returned to the faces of the two flower children. They shook the bells on their feet.

The band behind the sedan chair began playing again, slowly passing above Zhao Ke's head and continuing along the riverway.

Seeing this, Zhao Ke finally let out a long breath and raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. At that moment, a purple handkerchief was held out before him.

Zhao Ke instinctively reached back to take it. But halfway through the motion, his face suddenly went pale. His eyes followed the handkerchief upward, and he saw that a woman had appeared behind him at some unknown time.