He Definitely Has a Conspiracy

Li Dalong walked from the first level of the Underworld down to the eighteenth. The shadows of purgatory cast a layer of gloom over his face.

Now, the ghost officials and clerks of the Underworld's Nether Offices had gradually begun venturing into the mortal realm at night, when yin energy was abundant, to seize the souls of evildoers and guide wronged ghosts who had lost their way.

Each level of the Eighteen Levels of Hell had its own Ghost King. The newly appointed Nether Offices had gradually resumed the ancient Underworld's rules and restored its functions. Though they had spent only a few short years feeling their way through the dark like blind men examining an elephant, there were already rough signs of revival.

"Quite lively."

After making his rounds and seeing souls judged on every level of hell, Li Dalong felt not the slightest comfort.

At his side, the white-robed Dancer, Min Tiange, followed him and said, "Reporting to the High God, it is only this bustling because wars are raging across the mortal realm and so many have died. Still, the ghost messengers sent to guide souls in the mortal world can barely keep up."

"One step at a time is enough." Li Dalong did not mind.

Min Tiange was Min Tiange, after all. Even after drinking Meng Po's Soup and passing through a cycle of reincarnation in the River of the Dead, he remained a genius. As the First Yama King, he had managed the entire Underworld in immaculate order. As the Underworld rose to prominence, many powerful figures had begun taking notice of it. How to maneuver among mortals and even immortals—such troublesome matters had also fallen into the hands of the many Nether Offices.

Li Dalong was in no rush. To him, the Underworld was