That face looked exactly as it had over forty years ago-no, it was more composed now, the bearing forged through countless battles even more pronounced.
But Hodan could never mistake him. This was Loa, the Loa he had tricked into going to the Netherworld.
Forty-three years had passed. He had thought he would never see this man again, yet he had actually returned, and through teleportation from the Netherworld at that-where had he gotten the money for that enormous teleportation fee?
Loa saw Hodan too.
His steps paused, his gaze lingering for a moment on that familiar face.
Over forty years ago, this old bastard had tampered with the teleportation and thrown him and Wangcai into the Netherworld when they should have gone to Hell.
He had yet to seek Hodan out to settle the score, but the old bastard had walked right into him.
"Hodan." Loa's voice was calm, as calm as if he were calling an old friend's name.
But the instant Hodan heard that voice, both his legs began trembling uncontrollably.
He had lived for so many years and seen countless powerful figures, but no one's voice had ever made him tremble from the depths of his soul.
Those eyes-the eyes of the young man walking out of the Magic Array-held no anger, no killing intent, only an almost indifferent calm.
Hodan knew that was the gaze one gave a dead man.
"Lord Loa, y-you've returned." Hodan's voice trembled, and his legs beneath his white robes grew weak. He wanted to explain, to say that the teleportation array's error back then had merely been an accident, but he swallowed the words before they left his mouth-he did not believe that nonsense himself, let alone expect it to fool Loa.
Loa did not answer. He walked up to