TSFLIP Chapter 617

“Wait a minute!” Feng Guang shouted in alarm. “You must have made a mistake! I’m not—”

“Everyone who’s on their way to the underworld says that.”

“I’m not Tang Xiaole! Mister Ghost Messenger, you’ve got the wrong person!”

The man, whose face lacked any trace of emotion, replied, “I still need to water my plants.”

“Huh?”

“My time shouldn’t be wasted.”

As he spoke, he tugged at the chain. In the next second, only a white-robed woman’s lifeless body remained on the quiet lawn—Feng Guang’s body, now soulless.

Behind a tree, a woman—or more accurately, a female ghost—watched the ghost messenger vanish. She floated out slowly, gave one last look at her own corpse, her expression unreadable, and then drifted away.

The underworld—dark and eternal—was looking lively today… Not really. That’s a lie.

When Feng Guang opened her eyes again, she found herself already in the underworld, brought there by the man. And just her luck—the place they landed in happened to be the Deep-Fried Hell. Listening to the howling of thousands of souls boiling in a scalding lake… Yeah, this was not a good experience.

Her hands were bound in chains, the other end held by the man. From a distance, they looked like someone walking their dog—and of course, Feng Guang was the “dog.”

“I’ve already told you, you got the wrong person! I’m not this Tang Xiaole you’re looking for…” She’d repeated that sentence so many times on the way there that her throat was bone dry. But the man walking in front of her completely ignored her, as if he’d muted her voice.

She was so furious that she wanted to kill someone!

They walked nonstop as he dragged her through a full tour of all eighteen chambers of hell. At first, she found the sights terrifying and sickening, but soon enough, she became numb. Honestly, this kind of direct exposure therapy was probably the best cure for her fear of ghosts. After seeing all this, what in the world could scare her anymore?

Finally, he led her—or rather, dragged her-to a red wooden bridge. In the distance was a waterfall pouring into a wide river that flowed into the unknown. On both riverbanks were endless fields of bright red manjusaka (hellflowers). The water under the bridge was crystal clear.

On the bridge sat a girl, though with her spiked leather jacket, ripped jeans, and bright yellow-dyed hair, she looked more like a rebellious teen than anything from the afterlife. Total delinquent vibes.

In front of her, a long line of souls waited. Each time a person approached, she would hand them a strange boxed drink that looked suspiciously like a repurposed AD calcium milk bottle. If anyone refused to drink it, she’d just slam their head down on the table and force-feed it to them.

Feng Guang stared, stunned.

The white-haired man in black led her past the whole line, straight to the front. “Here she is. Don’t call me to the human realm again—I’m busy.”

“Busy staring at flowers, you mean? You’ve been watching the same ones for thousands of years and you’re still not sick of it?” said the yellow-haired girl, her modern look a sharp contrast to his ancient robes.

Every soul brought to the afterlife had to be processed by the ghost messenger who captured them. Most just wanted to get it over with quickly. But despite this man cutting the line, not a single ghost dared to make a peep.

“If we weren’t so short on staff, I wouldn’t have asked you to go,” the blonde grumbled. She opened a notebook and pointed to a name. “Fine, fine. I won’t waste your precious time. Let’s get your soul processed first.”