Money Makes the Devil Turn Millstones; the Six-Tailed White Fox and Bai Lin

As time passed, the environment here began to change as well. The dim gloom slowly gained a trace of daylight. Scattered buildings seemed to reverse the flow of time—ruins first emerged from nowhere, then swiftly became whole and bright.

The uneven black dirt roads gradually turned into broad roads of packed yellow earth, before finally becoming as hard as stone.

More and more ghosts of every kind appeared. Though only a tiny fraction of the densely packed ghosts lunged at him, most continued climbing the enormous Nether Spirit Divine Wood, which stood like a mountain range.

Even after unleashing wide-range destructive attacks—the purest power of annihilation—he still could not destroy these ghosts. Qin Yang gave up on conventional methods.

He took out the dust-covered Fengdu Token and hung it around his neck. A thread of icy aura circulated, and Qin Yang's suppressed power instantly returned to normal.

An indescribably unique aura began circulating through the Fengdu Token.

Qin Yang was not actually sure what this token was or whom it belonged to. He merely inferred from the fact that wearing it allowed him to avoid the suppression of heaven and earth within the Ancient Underworld's territory that it likely belonged to some Ancient Underworld official, and certainly not one from the lowest ranks.

Sensing the Fengdu Token's aura, the ghosts that had seemed to lose their minds and were endlessly charging at him stopped in their tracks.

Just as he had expected, these ghosts instinctively feared public officials.

But immediately afterward, Qin Yang's expression darkened.

He felt that he had overlooked a very important issue.

Numbers.

There were simply too many of them.

Any ghost that came within a certain range and sensed the Fengdu Token's aura would stop, even voluntarily retreat.

But the reality was that those things could