The hem of the Yin-Yang Ghost Envoy's robe swept through a patch of blood-red flowers. The withered petals shattered into dust in the chilling wind, each grain reflecting a distorted human face. As Chen Feng's toes touched the Yellow Springs Road, the entire river of blood suddenly boiled. Countless skeletal arms rose from the riverbed, their knuckles clawing at his ankles. "Don't look at that." The Yin-Yang Ghost Envoy tapped the bone flute between Chen Feng's brows, and the wailing souls instantly vanished into smoke. "When a living person passes through the Yellow Springs, it's a grave offense to show compassion."

Chen Feng looked down at his translucent hands. The black energy wrapped around his knuckles suddenly condensed into a woman's face. It was a face he knew all too well—it was his ex-girlfriend, Xiaoli, who had absconded with the money!

"Xiaoli, is that you? Are you in the underworld too? Come here."

Chen Feng reached forward, but his grasping was fruitless. Xiaoli gave a strange smile, her body gradually fading, soon vanishing. The black energy chuckled and suddenly burrowed into his palm. Severe pain shot from his fingertips to his heart. Chen Feng stumbled, grasping at the pillars of the Naihe Bridge, only to discover they were made of baby skulls, maggots crawling from the hollow eye sockets.

The Yin-Yang Ghost Envoy stopped and drew a circle in front of him. Ghostly mist appeared, and the surrounding air was filled with a foul, rotting stench that made him nauseous.

"We've arrived at the Hall of Hell." The Yin-Yang Ghost Envoy raised his hand, and nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine steps of white bones materialized in the blood mist. Each bone was engraved with Sanskrit. As Chen Feng stepped onto the third step, he suddenly heard Xiaoli's voice whisper in his ear: "Every bone on these steps is a scapegoat, and you will become one of them..." Before he could finish his words, the skull beneath him suddenly opened its mouth and bit his foot. The sharp pain of the fangs piercing his soul nearly caused him to fall.

Chen Feng gathered his composure, repeatedly telling himself that all this was an illusion and he shouldn't believe it. The thirty-six dragon-shaped pillars within the hall rustled, and the bound ghosts suddenly screamed in unison. When the King of Hell's pupils opened, Chen Feng saw the image of the bank president burning the account books reflected in them. "Chen Feng," the King of Hell's voice shook the human-skin lanterns on the hall's ceiling. "You were supposed to die in forty years..." Suddenly, the female ghost tied to the eastern pillar let out a maniacal laugh. Her belly split open, and a ghost baby, covered in placenta, crawled out, charging straight at the King of Hell.

The Yin-Yang Ghost Envoy's bone flute blazed three black beams, and the ghost baby exploded into a bloody mist in mid-air, instantly silencing the terrifying sound. Chen Feng seized the opportunity to glimpse the rotting ghost face in the shadows in the corner of the hall, scratching on the Book of Life and Death with the pen from the bank president's office. "Approved," the King of Hell abruptly changed his tone, and the burning contract floated towards Chen Feng. When his fingertips touched the bloody handwriting of the "Twelve Evil Spirits," he suddenly remembered his final moments—the handle of the knife that had pierced his abdomen, etched with the bank president's birthdate!

With three days to return to life, Chen Feng returned to the mortal realm, floating in the ventilation duct of a bank vault. Moonlight shone through the grille onto the bank president's back as he stuffed bundles of banknotes into a box labeled "Charitable Donations." As Chen Feng's dark energy enveloped his neck, the president suddenly turned and raised a bronze Pixiu. The Pixiu's eyes shone red, forcing him back. "Sure enough, something's fishy," Chen Feng sneered, turning and lunging at the county bank.

In security guard Li Ming's locker, a faded family photo lay beneath a medical certificate. The smiling face of his six-year-old daughter in the photo contrasted glaringly with the blood type on the critical illness notice. As the robber's machete struck the counter, Chen Feng transformed into black mist and penetrated Li Ming's seven orifices. Li Ming's face drastically changed. In an instant, he saw a black talisman emerge from his palm. Chen Feng's furious voice echoed in his ears: "Think about your daughter crying during chemotherapy."

"Ah!" Li Ming screamed, swinging his baton. The moment the bone spur pierced the robber's chest, he clearly saw the bank president's smirking face reflected in his pupils. Blood splattered on the surveillance camera. Chen Feng manipulated Li Ming into making the number seven—the exact location of the seventh red circle on the Yama Pact.

The champagne tower at the celebration banquet reflected Li Ming's distorted image. As the county magistrate shook his hand and stuffed a red envelope into the donation box, Chen Feng saw half of a yellow talisman protruding from the inside pocket of the county magistrate's suit. On the talisman, painted in cinnabar, was a totem resembling the face of the Yama King. In the toilet cubicle, black smoke rose from the ashes of the bank president's incinerated account books, condensing into the outline of a rotting ghost face. It mouthed to Chen Feng in the mirror, "Six left."

On the bronze gate of the Netherworld Security Bureau, twelve skeletons bit Chen Feng's ID card. Security Captain Wang Defa's human skin rug squirmed; upon closer inspection, it was made from the skins of 749 young girls. "Newcomers, learn the ropes." He patted Chen Feng's shoulder with his fat hand, his five fingers suddenly extending and piercing his soul. "The previous head coaches all thought they could be heroes, but in the end, even their souls became snacks for the evil spirits."

The inner wall of the bronze coffin, suspended on a mountain of knives, was etched with bloody handprints. The soul of the old ghost in his dormitory was incomplete: "The seventh head coach carved this with his fingernails when the evil spirits were gnawing at him..." Suddenly, a dark shadow passed outside the window, and the old ghost's tongue was ripped out by the roots. Chen Feng felt the inscribed mark on the coffin's bottom, the phosphorescent light illuminating the incomplete warning: "When the bell rings seven times, all..."

The next day, in the Ten Thousand Souls Pit, Chen Feng's left arm was torn off by a ghostly hand. The moment the Yin-Yang Order burned, he saw his own blood seeping into the sand, forming a giant "injustice" character. When Wang Defa rubbed salt into his wound, the salt suddenly transformed into maggots, burrowing into his flesh and devouring his soul. "Do you know why I chose you?" Wang Defa bared his fangs. "Because you're the seventh security guard killed by the bank president."

As night fell, the Soul-Calming Bell tolled silently. Chen Feng, standing on the bronze coffin, saw blood seeping from the seventh red circle on the bell. In the archives of the Netherworld Security Bureau, the seventh drawer automatically opened, revealing six blood-stained security shoulder badges neatly stacked inside—each number corresponding to a bank where the bank president had worked. When Chen Feng picked up his badge, Xiaoli's face suddenly appeared on the back of his epaulette: "You think you can escape us by fleeing to the underworld? Wishful thinking!"

As the blood moon reached its zenith, Chen Feng's badge suddenly melted, transforming into a bronze key engraved with runes. The moment the key was inserted into the Soul-Suppressing Bell, six familiar screams echoed from within—the voices of the six previous head coaches. Chen Feng finally understood that the so-called "suppression of evil spirits" was merely the refining of the victims' souls into new evil spirits.

"Time's up! It's time to close the net." A rotting ghost face emerged from the bell, its judge's pen pointed at Chen Feng's brow. In the nick of time, Chen Feng suddenly thrust the key into his own chest, his soul blood splattering across the runes on the bell. The entire underworld shook violently, and the crisp sound of a glass cup shattering echoed from Yama's Hall—the first seal had been broken.