Chapter 342: I Don’t Know How to Make You Laugh, but Making You Cry Is Easy
Zhang Yangqing was the first Chosen One to arrive here, and also the most relaxed one.
When the other Chosen Ones gradually arrived, the mountain of corpses and river of blood before them was truly a tremendous shock.
Seeing it from outside was different from seeing it from inside. The various eerie sounds, the nauseating yet somehow not-quite-nauseating smells, and the twisted facial expressions on those heads—
It really made any normal person not want to stay in this place.
The Chosen Ones wished the streetlights nearby would dim a bit more, so they wouldn’t have to see these bizarre things.
Occasionally, a passerby wearing a ghost mask would appear on either side of the road, but none of them even glanced at the Chosen Ones, nor at the mountains of corpses and rivers of blood—as if it were all too common.
To these bizarre passersby, this pile of corpses and blood was like a famous local attraction.
“Excuse me—”
Before Miller could finish speaking, the passerby walked right past him without even acknowledging him.
This made him awkwardly swallow the rest of his words.
Unwilling to give up, Miller found another passerby and this time stood right in front of them.
But this passerby not only ignored Miller but suddenly shoved him aside.
Miller, now on the ground, felt somewhat angry—fine, ignore me, but why shove me so hard?
No choice—better to rely on yourself than others.
Maybe the corpse belonging to the head in his hands was somewhere in there?
Miller made his first attempt. There were many headless corpses here. He randomly picked one that looked somewhat strong and dragged it out from the pile.
Finally, he placed the ox head he’d grabbed onto it—but there was no reaction at all.
Because the rule mentioned [Ox-Head Man] and [Horse-Face Man].
So Miller’s first instinct should have been an ox head on a human body—the key word being “human.”
That’s when he went to find some corpses that looked human and placed the head on them.
But after trying a few, something felt off. Then he tried some non-human-looking corpses, and that wasn’t right either.
It was like building blocks—without the right fit, it couldn’t be restored.
“Looks like only the original body can restore it. But with so many corpses here, where am I supposed to find it?”
Miller looked at the mountains of corpses in the darkness under the faint light and fell into deep thought.
Could he have come to the wrong place? Was this just a distraction to waste time?
He needed to know—it seemed that after entering this area, the incense burned a bit faster than outside. He couldn’t waste too much time here. If he really couldn’t find it, he’d have to turn back.
It was at this level that several more Chosen Ones dropped out of the first tier—they really didn’t have much time left to keep burning.
Miller still had a fair amount of time. There seemed to be two paths before him.
Either go into the mountain of corpses and see if there were any special corpses deeper in.
Or he’d come to the wrong place and needed to keep going forward.
Miller wasn’t sure about the first path, but the second one was probably wrong.
Because the weird-tale world had already given a hint—there were no streetlights lit ahead.
Only the streetlights nearby were on. Surely he couldn’t just keep walking forward, right?
And if he went forward, he definitely wouldn’t have enough time to come back.
According to Miller’s deduction, the parade came from this direction. If they needed to dispose of useless corpses, they’d probably dump them here.
But where was the Ox-Head Man’s corpse? Could his method be wrong? This left him somewhat confused.
With that thought, Miller stepped out of the murky area and returned under the streetlight.
He picked up the emblem that had dropped from the bizarre creature after he’d killed the one that looked like him.
His method of killing had been relatively simple—since he was wearing a mask, the bizarre creature didn’t know who he was.
After spending some money to find the bizarre creature, he pretended to have good merchandise and said he needed to sell it cheaply due to an urgent matter.
After all, he had an ox head covered with cloth in his hands, and the rule of the Ghost Market was that counterfeit goods basically couldn’t exist. So he disguised himself as someone wanting to sell something.
Then Miller successfully lured the bizarre creature that looked exactly like him to a secluded corner and delivered a piercing strike—one hit to kill, then a few more stabs for good measure.
After all, he’d been through many battles along the way—ambushing a single person was a piece of cake.
The detail to pay attention to here was how to gain trust.
Miller turned it around and used the rule that everyone seemed to know—that the Ghost Market had no fakes—to his advantage.
He also had to admire how genuinely good the peach wood sword was—it was practically the nemesis of these ghostly things.
The other Chosen Ones’ methods were quite similar. Unless they had absolute confidence in a direct kill, they’d use various methods of ambush.
For the weaker Chosen Ones, there were actually plenty of options. Hadn’t the old blind man given them two thunder talismans? Those had massive destructive power against bizarre creatures—basically a one-hit kill.
And the fact that the old blind man could give two already meant he’d left the Chosen Ones a way out.
But some Chosen Ones were reluctant to use them—if they used such a good item now, how would they get through the Rainy Night Killer level?
If you use the thunder talisman here, that proves you’re only at this level.
And with that, you still want to complete the hidden mission? You still dare to challenge the Rainy Night Killer? Who gave you the courage?
The Chosen Ones who could complete this kill mission had more or less thoroughly studied Rule 8.
Actually, many Chosen Ones were interpreting Rule 8 on a deeper level.
[Rule 8: Remember, in the Ghost Market, if you buy counterfeit goods, you are lucky, because you can report it to the Free Trade Market administrators, and they will handle it for you.]
Because at this stage, the Chosen Ones were all aiming for an SSSS rating, so they pursued speed—the burning incense wouldn’t wait.
No one was willing to run all over the Ghost Market to find the person selling fakes, because the rule mentioned “lucky,” indicating that certain conditions had to be triggered.
Later, some Chosen Ones completed this task and received a substantial reward of ghost coins.
And the counterfeit seller was directly executed by the Free Trade Market administrators.
But that was something only later Chosen Ones had time to complete—the earlier ones couldn’t wait to settle their scores and get out.
At this moment, Miller held the emblem engraved with a portrait and observed it carefully, examining both front and back.
He couldn’t seem to find any reference point nearby that corresponded to the portrait on the emblem.
Just then, some passersby’s reactions caught Miller’s attention.
Because this road had passersby from time to time, all coming from the dark area.
Normally, these passersby had things to do and wouldn’t pay attention to the Chosen Ones trying to strike up conversations.
When Miller first arrived, he’d also wanted to ask people about the situation, but no one ever stopped.
But now that he was holding this portrait emblem, it seemed someone was looking at him.
“Could this emblem be the key to them being able to communicate with me?”
Just as Miller was observing and thinking, he noticed some more details.
Two passersby appeared before him, talking to each other. Both wore masks, but the masks seemed to change along with their expressions.
This was a subtle hint from the weird-tale world.
Seeing this, Miller remembered Rule 11.
[Rule 11: If you encounter someone wearing a smiling mask, please do not agree to their requests, unless they are willing to give you the mask.]
Combining the information and analysis, Miller finally understood. No wonder he’d never been able to find anyone with a smiling mask—there was no smiling, but he could make them smile.
But how to make them smile?
He couldn’t just tell a cold joke. Miller had tried handing them money to cheer them up.
Whether it was because the money wasn’t enough or they didn’t like money, none of the passersby accepted it.
This left Miller stumped—had he misjudged again?
Suddenly, he slapped his own head and muttered, “There’s a hint! How could I have forgotten?”
The parade came from this direction, so that proved this side seemed to be connected to the parade—or rather, many people here believed in the god from the parade.
He just needed to wear the emblem, and then he could trigger conversations with others who also had emblems.
As for how to make them laugh, a similar hint had already appeared at the crossroads.
With that thought, Miller put on the emblem and found some people wearing normal masks.
Sure enough, when this person saw Miller wearing the emblem, they stopped and greeted him.
Miller began recalling what those people at the crossroads had said—praising the god on the emblem, saying the god would surely forgive his sins.
This made the person wearing the normal mask beam with joy, as if they’d met a kindred spirit.
As soon as the mask began to take on a smiling appearance, Miller had triggered the correct option.
He wasn’t in a hurry to ask for the mask. He asked what the other person wanted.
If he could complete it, then he’d ask for the mask.
If he couldn’t complete it, he’d just switch to the next person.
It seemed every passerby had a different task.
Some were relatively simple—they’d missed the parade, so they asked the Chosen One to throw their offerings into the river.
These so-called offerings looked extremely disgusting—some kind of meat obtained from who-knows-where.
Some were more difficult, asking the Chosen One to prepare offerings for them—things used for sacrifice.
These sacrificial items had certain requirements. They weren’t actually hard to find—just go back to the surface and get some live poultry meat.
These bizarre beings couldn’t go out, so they could only trouble the Chosen Ones.
The prerequisite was wearing the emblem to trigger these plot points.
As long as the Chosen One agreed, they would naturally give the Chosen One their mask.
Miller couldn’t just give them the ox head he’d just grabbed, and going back to the surface and returning would waste too much time.
So he chose a relatively simple task—after all, he’d pass by the river on his way back anyway, so he could just throw it in then.
When Miller took the smiling mask and put it on, he saw a bizarre sight.
He could see a white thread on the ox head he’d grabbed, and this thread seemed to connect to a corpse deep within the mountain of corpses.
“Sure enough, this is the item mentioned in the task.”
With that thought, Miller put away what the person had given him, then carried the ox head and walked into the mountain of corpses. This time, with a goal, he wasn’t so lost.
This was the solution for this level—and also the solution for laughing.
Next was the solution for crying. Only one Chosen One completed the crying solution.
Zhang Yangqing had plenty of time and wasn’t as anxious as the other Chosen Ones.
Combining the surrounding environment, he could analyze that this mountain of corpses should be the dumping ground for the bodies of the Ox-Head and Horse-Face.
According to the nature of rule-based weird tales, searching by himself would have a chance of finding it, but that would waste too much time.
Since there was such a difficult problem here, there should be a relatively simple solution nearby.
For the other Chosen Ones, the passersby were very aloof—if you weren’t wearing the emblem, they wouldn’t pay any attention to the Chosen Ones at all.
For Zhang Yangqing, weren’t these just free labor?
When he saw that their mask expressions seemed able to change, he recalled the rules.
A smile appeared at the corner of Zhang Yangqing’s mouth.
Seeing Zhang Yangqing smile, perhaps the bizarre beings here didn’t yet know what terrifying thing was about to happen.
But the audience watching his big screen all knew—when the Heavenly Master smiles, life and death are unpredictable.
As soon as Zhang Yangqing smiled, the audience knew someone was about to have bad luck.
One had to admit, the audience’s judgment was extremely accurate.
Beside this murky, bizarre mountain of corpses, Zhang Yangqing watched the passersby going by.
I don’t know how to make you laugh, but making you cry is easy, isn’t it?
Randomly picking a lucky one, Zhang Yangqing went up and greeted them.
Sure enough, they didn’t even glance at Zhang Yangqing and tried to shove him aside directly—to show off how awesome they were, to prove to everyone that not just anyone could talk to them.
If it were any other Chosen One, they’d probably just endure it.
But when their hands touched Zhang Yangqing, they felt like they were pushing against an immensely thick wall.
Not only could they not push it at all, but they were knocked to the ground by a tremendous force.
Zhang Yangqing was somewhat stunned—you’re this arrogant?
What followed was a beating. The street echoed with ghostly wails and wolf-like howls, screams so heart-wrenching they could tear one’s heart out—and there really were ghostly cries.
Zhang Yangqing had already held back his strength, doing his best to beat them into crying without beating them to death.
Finally, this arrogant bizarre being knelt on the ground, crying as they said to Zhang Yangqing, “Please, boss, stop hitting me! I know I was wrong!”
Hearing their crying, Zhang Yangqing finally stopped and said, “Good that you know you’re wrong. But you delayed me from searching for the corpse—how do we settle this?”
The crying-face bizarre being, having been beaten by Zhang Yangqing, finally realized—so you beat me up just to make me help you find the corpse.
You could have just said so earlier! Why did you have to beat me up? Fine, I’ll search!
“Boss, it was me who delayed your time. To make up for my mistake, please give me a chance to redeem myself.”
The crying-face bizarre being continued, crying as they spoke.
Zhang Yangqing nodded, thinking this guy was quite perceptive—it wasn’t for nothing that I beat you up.
As long as the mask triggered smiling and crying, one could basically see some special clues.
Actually, the crying trap was bigger, because there was a certain probability that they would forcefully stuff their mask onto the Chosen One.
If you put on the crying mask, it would accelerate the corruption rate.
But for Zhang Yangqing, there was no possibility of that triggering here. If this crying-face bizarre being dared to do that, they knew their fate would be becoming a member of the corpse mountain.
After some time, the crying-face bizarre being found the bodies of the Ox-Head and Horse-Face.
Zhang Yangqing wasn’t planning to let them go just yet—he’d wait until the Ox-Head and Horse-Face revived.
When he placed the heads back on, a bizarre scene appeared.
The bulging eyes on the two heads began to move, looking somewhat creepy.
A dark aura was spreading across their bodies, especially around the neck area, where energy surged and raged.
Flesh and bone kept sticking together, making strange sounds.
Before long, two tall, burly underworld officials appeared before Zhang Yangqing.
After some conversation, Zhang Yangqing learned that they had been inexplicably murdered on their way back from a mission. They thanked Zhang Yangqing for his help—without it, they wouldn’t have been able to revive.
But this was all small talk. The key point was that they would tell the Chosen One about the abnormality in their body.
That is, the current state of having no lifespan yet still being alive.
This situation presented two dangers.
First, if the spellcaster met with an accident, the Chosen One would die immediately.
Second, if the spellcaster released the spell, the Chosen One would also die.
The only solution was to find a way to obtain lifespan and find the missing organs. That way, even if the spellcaster met with an accident, the Chosen One wouldn’t die.
Originally, as underworld officials, they should have arrested someone like the Chosen One who had no lifespan. But the Chosen One had saved them, so they would find a way to repay the favor.
The procedure here was simple—the Chosen One would follow them to the Yama Palace and find a way to obtain lifespan.
Seeing that the incense time on their hands was running low, the Chosen Ones all urged them to hurry.
There were many patrolling guards armed with weapons around the Yama Palace, and two figures with immense auras.
They wore tall hats, dressed in white and black clothes, with pale makeup on their faces.
These were the Black and White Impermanence that the Dragon Country audience was familiar with.
But that wasn’t the point. As long as the Chosen Ones didn’t forcibly break into the Yama Palace, these people wouldn’t conflict with them.
Miller had only saved the Ox-Head. Anyway, having one was enough.
The Ox-Head led him in through a side door into the interior of the Yama Palace.
After all, the Ox-Head was an office worker here and knew the other personnel.
The Ox-Head brought Miller to find the Judge and asked the Judge to add some lifespan for Miller.
After all, being at the underworld official level, one glance at the Chosen One’s body would reveal special information—the so-called identity number.
The Judge was the underworld official in charge of the Book of Life and Death. He sat before his desk.
On the table was a book Miller couldn’t read and a writing brush.
Under the Ox-Head’s flattery, the Judge flipped through the Book of Life and Death and found Miller’s identity number.
But the Judge didn’t rush to add lifespan for him. Instead, he stroked his chin with one hand and muttered, “This isn’t easy to add. What if the Yama King blames me for it?”
The meaning was obvious—he wanted some benefit.
Surely you can’t just bring anyone here and expect me to do whatever you want?
You’re not my superior. To get things here, naturally there has to be a transaction.
That’s what they call human relations—favor is essential, and worldly wisdom is necessary too.
