Volume Eight: Judgment of Hell Chapter Four: The Fourth Corpse

A gentle rain began to fall in the early morning. Yaoguang stood at the window, coffee in hand, the heaviness in her chest almost suffocating.

“Phoenix, there’s been another report. Another body’s been found,” Xuan Chen hurried over and tapped her lightly. Yaoguang set down her cup and rushed to the scene.

There, on the beach, a large woven bag lay quietly upon the sand. Yaoguang approached, examined the bag, and pulled it open. Inside was a woman dressed in black, her body twisted unnaturally.

Lele stepped forward, glanced at the corpse, and sighed, “Phoenix, this woman died of fright.”

“Died of fright?” Yaoguang scrutinized the body, reaching out with her spiritual senses. As she suspected, there was no soul, no spiritual consciousness, no spiritual essence—yet a heavy aura of death hung about her. This one was from the Ghost Sect. “Let’s get her out of here,” she said.

“All right.” Lele and Huo Mingkun worked together to lift the corpse from the bag. Yaoguang regarded the distorted face. “Ghost Mask? I’m beginning to wonder if the killer is from the Ghost Sect.”

“What makes you say that?” Lele asked.

“Among the four dead, only Ghost Mirror was not among those who escaped our raid all those years ago. Now they’re all dead, and in such bizarre fashion. Is the killer after something else, or is this some twisted form of revenge for me? That seems impossible—so they must have another purpose. I’m growing more certain this is the Ghost Sect’s scheme.” Yaoguang glanced around before returning to the station.

The corpse was brought back as well. This time, Yaoguang did not participate in the autopsy. Instead, she was on the phone the entire time, her words a rapid, unintelligible stream that no one could make sense of.

“Phoenix, it’s time for the meeting.” Xuan Chen came over and gave her a tap.

“Alright,” Yaoguang replied, and walked into the conference room. “Let’s hear everyone’s thoughts.”

“I’ll start with the autopsy results. The deceased is female, the articulation surface of her toe bones suggests she’s around forty. There are no signs of restraint, no open wounds, no blunt force trauma, no marks of strangulation or mechanical asphyxia. Her limbs are contorted in spasm, her face twisted; she’s been dead about nine hours. I examined her organs—she died of acute myocardial infarction. In plain terms, she was scared to death. Toxicology showed a hallucinogen in her system, capable of inducing vivid hallucinations. I also collected a faint pink powder from her mouth and nose—it looks like pollen. Analysis confirms it’s some kind of unknown pollen,” Lele reported.

“I’ll share the trace evidence,” the forensics specialist continued. “Other than fibers from the woven bag, we found the same faint pink powder on her clothes, matching the substance found in her nose and mouth. On her shoes and socks, we discovered soil with five different colors and compositions.”

“There were no tire marks on the beach, but we did find faint drag marks and footprints. The rain blurred the prints, but it’s clear they belonged to someone wearing size 44 shoes. We checked the surveillance nearby, but the dump site is in a blind spot, so we retrieved no useful footage,” the tech team reported.

“There isn’t a drop of blood at any of the four scenes, so we can be sure these weren’t the original crime scenes—just disposal sites. The killer is meticulous. Apart from those footprints and the tire marks, we found no fingerprints,” Xuan Chen added.

“This was all planned. The killer won’t leave us anything to trace,” Tianyou said. “Phoenix, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about that pink powder, and the hallucinogen in her body—if there’s a connection. To my knowledge, the Ghost Sect once possessed a flower called Soul-eater, whose pollen is pink and induces hallucinations. But that flower vanished ages ago—so how did they get it?” Yaoguang mused. “And Ghost Mask died of fright. What could she have seen? For someone who only ever frightened others, what could possibly frighten her? She was called the ‘Black-hearted Rakshasa’ in the Ghost Sect. What could possibly scare her to death?”

“What if what she saw wasn’t of this world?” Jiang Yun offered.

“Not of this world?” Yaoguang looked at her, gesturing for her to continue.

“Consider this: if the Soul-eater flower confuses the mind and amplifies a person’s deepest fears, wouldn’t Ghost Mask, once affected, see what she’s most afraid of? The Ghost Sect’s people are devious, ruthless—they fear nothing in this world. But after all their wicked deeds, what do they fear most?” Jiang Yun asked.

“The vengeance of the dead?” Huo Mingkun ventured.

“I doubt it. They plunder souls as a matter of course—they’d hardly fear ghosts or spirits. That’s their domain,” Jiang Yun replied. “I think what they fear is judgment.”

“Judgment?” Huo Mingkun repeated.

“Yes, but not judgment by law or by any worldly authority. If someone like them is sentenced to death, they lose only their bodies. As long as their corpses are intact, they can find ways to continue existing—like the living dead. I think what they truly fear is judgment of the soul. And where can the soul be judged?” Jiang Yun probed. “Only in the Netherworld’s courts. Only there can the soul be sentenced. For such evildoers, the punishments must be unimaginable. And they know that Master is their sworn enemy—while suffering punishment in the Netherworld, they might also face divine justice from Master, who is both a police officer in the mortal world and a revered deity beyond it. As a deity, she can participate in judgments beyond mortal law. If, under the influence of the Soul-eater flower, the victim saw herself being judged both in hell and by the divine, wouldn’t she die of terror? I remember Master once said the Ghost Sect pursues immortality because they fear death. With all their crimes, how could they not be afraid? If that’s the case, then maybe it explains her death.”

“Yun’er, you’re a genius,” Yaoguang said with a smile.

“It’s true. Birth, aging, sickness, and death—these are among the eight sufferings of the mortal world, an inevitable part of life. Yet the Ghost Sect rejects the righteous path and still dreams of immortality—what a delusion,” Huo Mingkun said.

“Wait—what did you just say? The first thing?” Yaoguang suddenly interrupted.

“I said birth, aging, sickness, and death are among the eight sufferings of the human world,” Huo Mingkun replied.

“Yes, that’s it, Akun, you’re brilliant. How did I not think of it before?” Yaoguang exclaimed.

“Think of what?” Xuan Chen asked.

“I’m wondering if the killer is arranging the murders according to the eight sufferings of the human world,” Yaoguang said.

“The eight sufferings?” Xuan Chen was puzzled.

“The eight sufferings: the suffering of birth, of aging, of sickness, of death, the suffering of separation from loved ones, of meeting those you hate, of unfulfilled desires, and finally, the suffering of the five aggregates. The first four are fated, the last four are caused by people. The suffering of birth: a child, safe and warm in the womb, is cast into the endless cycle at the moment of birth, never able to return to that warmth. The suffering of aging: none are immune—organs fail, abilities vanish, strength is lost. Sickness: pain and torment can drive people to despair, wishing for a miracle only to be disappointed again. Death: people fear it because they cannot let go of the world—after death, who knows what awaits? But these are decreed by fate, unchangeable. The suffering of separation from those you love: love is the most torturous emotion; no medicine can cure longing. The suffering of being forced to endure what you hate: being powerless to resist, forced to accept what disgusts you, a struggle that can drive a person mad. The suffering of unfulfilled desires: to want and never obtain, as if a thousand ants gnaw at your heart. The suffering of the five aggregates: all these emotions combine, and if you can let go, you’re liberated—if not, they magnify and cycle endlessly.” Yaoguang paused in thought. “If these four Ghost Sect victims weren’t murdered, but rather sacrificed in the order of the eight sufferings, and the souls, spiritual consciousness, and spiritual essence of the first seven sufferings were gathered in the eighth, what would become of that eighth person?”

“They’d become an instrument of vengeance,” Xuan Chen replied.

“Exactly.” Yaoguang nodded. “But right now, we have no evidence the Ghost Sect is following this order in their killings. If so, there must be a gathering place, but as things stand, we have no leads beyond these corpses. That’s troublesome. Forensics and criminal investigations, keep checking. Closely monitor vehicles appearing during the times the bodies were dumped, see if any cars or people recur. Re-examine the victims’ clothes for new evidence. Xuan Chen, coordinate the team. Tianyou, continue the search. Akun, Yun’er, you’re with me. Meeting adjourned.” With that, Yaoguang called Yitian. Soon, the car arrived downstairs.