Chapter 358: The Birth of the Neurotic Heavenly Emperor
"This place is pretty mediocre."
Allen let go of the Ghost Bride's hand and walked straight over to the side of the road, prying loose a tile from the ground with sheer force.
Clang…
The tile sailed through the air and smashed through a window.
Glass shattered everywhere.
The Ghost Bride's eye twitched. This was truly a first.
Never in her afterlife had she seen someone act so brazenly in the Spirit Realm.
"Get out here, you damn eunuch!"
Hands on his hips, Allen started verbally bombarding the house. "You cross-dressing perverted ghost without a kun-kun, too scared to face the wrath of my wild python? If you've got any guts, come out here! I'll whip you a few times just to warm up!"
"…"
Such foul language.
The Ghost Bride felt her worldview get redefined again.
This was a far cry from the meek little lamb persona he'd shown earlier.
Meanwhile, in the neighboring haunted homes, vague silhouettes appeared behind windows.
Clearly, the other malevolent spirits had gathered to watch the show from a safe distance.
Humans love a good drama—how could vengeful spirits be any different?
And besides, evil spirits typically stay holed up in their homes and avoid mingling with the neighbors.
Seeing that the haunted house remained eerily quiet, Allen yanked up another tile and hurled it at a different window.
Clang!
Then came another wave of Allen's trash talk.
"You damned eunuch! Thought chopping it off would make guys like you? Pathetic! Starved for love since birth, calcium-deficient growing up, ugly as hell but still acting like a playboy! Other than spitting on people, what the hell can you do…"
Bang!
Suddenly, the front door flung open.
A towering figure in a black wedding gown stood at the doorway, glaring murderously at Allen.
The Ghost Bride had already scurried off to hide beside a trash can, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.
This old ghost man was known in the ghost neighborhood as a total pervert, his accumulated resentment so dense that he was among the strongest of the malevolent spirits. He was well on his way to becoming a true Wraith.
And in the Ghost City, a Wraith was practically a regional warlord.
That said, Allen's insults had indeed been vicious—every word like a dagger to the heart.
"I'll kill you."
The old ghost lifted the veil on his face, revealing a wrinkled, ghastly pale visage filled with bloodlust.
His ten fingernails extended into claws, oozing with a dark, bone-chilling aura.
"With nails that long, do you even wipe in the bathroom?"
Allen rolled his eyes and walked toward a streetlamp.
The old ghost paused in confusion, watching as Allen ripped the streetlamp out of the ground with his bare hands.
"You're dead meat! Just don't run if you've got the balls!"
Allen tossed out the threat while casually testing the heft of the streetlamp pole.
"This is the Spirit Realm, mortal. Strength doesn't mean power here."
As he spoke, the old ghost's body became engulfed in thick black resentment.
In a flash, his shadowy form surged forward like a deadly whirlwind.
The malevolent spirits lurking in the nearby haunted houses all thought they were about to witness Allen's demise.
That dark aura could corrode a person's soul with a single touch, dissolving them into black smoke and empowering the ghost even further.
In their eyes, Allen was already a dead man.
Because in the Spirit Realm, evil spirits could wield their power without restraint.
Bang!
The scene suddenly fell silent.
Every watching spirit stared in disbelief at what had just happened.
Allen had smashed the old ghost into the ground with a single swing of the pole, and the sinister aura around him was already starting to dissipate.
Bang!
"So what if this is the Spirit Realm? Not even the Buddha of Instant Justice can control me here!"
Bang!
"Strength doesn't mean power? What, is it about agility now?"
Bang!
"Why so quiet all of a sudden?"
Bang!
"Were you just never into pretending to be tough?"
Bang!
"Did you chop it off just to boost your bravado?"
Bang!
"…"
Each strike landed like a critical hit.
Not only were they physically hammering the old ghost, but they also hit the watching spirits deep in their ghostly hearts.
Finally, with one last slam…
The old ghost's soul was scattered in unwilling defeat.
At that very moment, a star at the center of the Pantheon of Gods flickered briefly, then dimmed and vanished into the palace.
'The Neurotic Heavenly Emperor has taken his seat!'
A divine notification rang out, signaling that a new True God had ascended the throne of the Pantheon.
With a quick internal scan, Allen saw a vision from a godlike perspective. Inside a majestic, lavish palace, seated upon the highest throne, was… himself, wearing a hospital gown.
"This is the Neurotic Heavenly Emperor!?"
He looked like a completely different version of Allen.
Opening his eyes again, Allen quietly activated his Summon God Technique.
Three feet above his head, divine light radiated out.
Before the figure even appeared, a voice echoed:
"With a boom from the sky, your boy makes his entrance!"
With one hand pointed to the heavens and the other to the earth, the Neurotic Heavenly Emperor—identical in appearance to Allen—declared grandly, "Heaven above, Earth below, I alone reign supreme!"
Clang!
Allen stared at him, embarrassed, accidentally dropping the streetlamp pole from his hand.
"What's with the littering? What if that hit a child? And even if it didn't, what about the flowers and grass, huh?"
The Neurotic Heavenly Emperor picked up the pole with heartfelt sincerity, weighing it in his hands with satisfaction.
"You trying to be some kind of monk?" Allen asked.
"You're too fixated on appearances," the Neurotic Heavenly Emperor replied, hands folded in prayer. "Buddhism and Dao are but two sides of the same coin. Why split hairs? Sometimes, being a little muddleheaded is a blessing. Amen, amen."
"Help me fight."
Allen pointed at a haunted house across the street, where a creepy spirit in a human-skin mask was hiding. "I've had it with that guy. He's cosplaying as a chainsaw killer."
"Violence is such an uncivilized way to settle things," said the Neurotic Heavenly Emperor, gently pinching Allen's cheek. "Let's all sit down, have tea, and talk about life."
Damn it. He'd summoned a bleeding pacifist.
If he wasn't going to fight, then what was the point?
"Don't stare at me with those big ol' sparkly eyes," said the Neurotic Heavenly Emperor, wagging a finger. "There's no such thing as free labor these days. Who works without a cut?"
He continued, full of conviction. "Out on the streets now, it's not about having a chest full of tattoos anymore. You could get shanked and vanish without a sound. It's all about being classy—suits, red wine, cigars. No profit? No brawl."
"…"
This time, Allen was truly at a loss for words.
The Neurotic Heavenly Emperor was just like a reformed mafia boss, spouting business wisdom like a seasoned entrepreneur.
"Boss God… if you don't fight, how are we going to create more True Gods? Without more True Gods, how are we supposed to grow? And if we don't grow, who's going to give us face out there? No face, no intimidation factor!"
Allen shamelessly flattered him with a grin.
"You make a good point. Our Heavenly Court startup needs more employees. I'm the chairman, you're the shareholder—we can't be doing everything ourselves."
The Neurotic Heavenly Emperor hoisted the streetlamp pole, walked up to the haunted house, and shouted:
"Hey, little ghost inside! You coming out to die, or do I have to wreck the place?"
Allen and the Ghost Bride watched from a distance as the Neurotic Heavenly Emperor began his performance.
After a minute passed with no response…
The god's formerly serene face twisted into something violent and terrifying.
"You don't know what's good for you. Refusing the polite way, huh? Fine—we'll do this my way."
With that, he raised the pole and smashed it toward the haunted house.