In Hell, you'd struggle to find anyone more feared than me. I am Lucifer, the First of the Fallen, the Prince of Darkness, and the undisputed ruler of Hell—until three days ago.
It all happened so suddenly. My second-in-command, Azazel, handed me what appeared to be an ordinary report. Hidden within, however, was a sinister talisman. Before I could react, the damned talisman erupted with an overwhelming force, ripping my soul straight from Hell's throne.
When I woke, I was surrounded by a cold, oppressive darkness. I glanced down at my hands—they were neither my fearsome demon claws nor the radiant hands of my angelic days. They were thin, pale, and smeared with dirt and dried blood.
"What the hell is this place?" I muttered, exhaustion lacing my voice.
Looking around, I realized I was lying in a dilapidated alley. Rain poured down from above, icy drops splattering against my face. My mind was in a fog, and when I tried to stand, pain radiated through my body—my chest felt as though it had been torn apart. The dull ache served as a grim reminder: this body had been dead.
"Well, this is just fantastic," I growled through gritted teeth, feeling the embers of Hell's fury ignite within me.
My soul had been forcibly stuffed into the freshly murdered corpse of a mortal.
I managed to drag myself to my feet and caught sight of my reflection in a cracked mirror nearby. The face staring back at me… pale, gaunt, and lifeless. It bore none of the majesty I once commanded. This was undoubtedly the body of some poor unfortunate soul. Worse, my powers had all but vanished, sealed away along with Hell itself.
I crouched down and picked up a wallet that had fallen nearby. Inside, I found an ID card bearing the name "Shen Lu."
"Shen Lu?" I muttered, rolling the unfamiliar name around on my tongue. At the same time, fragmented memories of this body's previous life began to surface in my mind.
Shen Lu, 26 years old, an orphan with no family, no friends, and no significant other. He lived alone in this cold, unfeeling city, eking out a living as a corporate errand boy with a pitiful salary. Recently, however, it seemed he had gotten himself into some trouble. The fragmented memories showed a dimly lit room, whispered arguments, and a stack of incomplete documents. The final image was of a gleaming blade—a knife that had plunged straight into his chest.
My gaze fell to this body's chest, where the knife wound was still visible, the skin around it darkened with an eerie, lifeless hue.
"Murdered?" I murmured, a bitter smile curling my lips. To think that I, the great King of Hell, had become a vessel for a human ghost's unfinished business.
The rain intensified, its icy drops pelting my face as I grew increasingly irritated. "No matter how bad Hell gets, at least it doesn't rain," I muttered, forcing myself upright despite the frailty of this mortal body.
The alley around me was grim and shadowy, the decaying walls covered in moss and emitting a foul stench. A stray cat darted out from the shadows but fled at the sight of me, as if sensing something it couldn't comprehend.
"Great. Just great," I muttered sarcastically.
I shook my head, trying to dispel my rising frustration. That's when I noticed something was off—the air was growing colder, and the usual sounds of rain seemed to fade.
"Someone's watching me." My senses sharpened, and I scanned my surroundings. The oppressive shadows seemed to hide something.
Peering deeper into the alley, I spotted a blurry figure cloaked in red, swaying ever so slightly. It was humanoid… no, it wasn't human at all. The long-haired figure stood motionless, its face obscured, but I could feel its eyes boring into me.
A chill ran down my spine. This wasn't the petty resentment of low-level spirits I was used to in Hell. This was something much worse.
"Hey! Who are you?" I shouted, trying to steady my voice.
The red figure didn't respond. Instead, it slowly lifted its head. That's when I saw its face—pale and grotesque, with an unsettling grin stretched across its lips. My heart skipped a beat. Even as the King of Hell, who had witnessed countless horrors, I felt a strange and unfamiliar fear.
"Don't come any closer…" I instinctively stepped back, only to slip on a puddle and fall flat on my back.
The red figure began to move, its body contorting unnaturally as it approached. Each step felt like a hammer striking my chest.
Grinding my teeth, I wracked my brain for a solution, but my powers were sealed, and even a flicker of Hellfire was beyond my reach.
She was just a few feet away now.
"Damn it! Even the King of Hell has his pride!" I shouted, closing my eyes and bracing myself. But then, the red figure abruptly stopped less than a meter from me.
The silence was deafening, so quiet it was almost maddening. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found the figure had vanished, leaving only a dark red puddle where it had stood.
Collapsing back onto the wet ground, I gasped for air, rainwater blurring my vision as my mind swirled with confusion.
"What kind of mess has Shen Lu gotten himself into?" I muttered, a sinking feeling telling me this was far more dangerous than the power struggles of Hell.
With great effort, I dragged this broken body toward the street, each step echoing in the lifeless city as if I were the only living thing left in it.
Cold wind bit at my skin as I stumbled down the dark streets, drenched to the bone. Every step sent a dull ache radiating from the knife wound in my chest. The sound of rain dripping onto the pavement only heightened the eerie stillness around me.
"The mighty King of Hell…" I grumbled under my breath, "reduced to fearing petty human ghosts? If word of this gets back to Hell, I'll never live it down."
But pride was the least of my worries, because something—or someone—was following me.
The flickering streetlights ahead cast an unsettling glow. As I passed an old apartment building, a low, eerie laugh reached my ears.
I froze, my mind snapping into high alert.
"Who's there?" I called out, trying to sound calm, though I instinctively stepped back.
No one answered. Only the rain continued to fall.
"Seriously? What a joke," I muttered, attempting to mask my unease with sarcasm. "The King of Hell, scared of a little human ghost?"
Before I could finish, a red figure appeared under the streetlight ahead.
My breath caught. Long-haired, dressed in a strikingly bright red outfit, her head hung low, hair obscuring her face. Her shoulders trembled slightly, as though… laughing?
"So this is how human ghost stories start," I muttered, swallowing hard. My voice wavered despite my efforts to remain composed. My legs, however, had other ideas and felt ready to give out at any moment.
The red figure didn't move, but the air around me grew noticeably colder.
"Uh, miss? Do you need help?" I ventured, clearing my throat to sound less frightened.
Suddenly, she froze, her head tilting upward just enough for me to catch sight of a pale chin. Her shoulders began to shake violently as a low, guttural laugh spilled from her lips.
The chill in the air was now suffocating.
"Listen, I'm warning you!" I stammered, stepping back. "I… I've got exorcism experience!"
Her laughter cut off abruptly, and she snapped her head up. I finally saw her face—ghastly pale, her lips twisted into a grotesque smile, and her eyes… empty white voids.
"AAAAAHHH!" I screamed, spinning on my heels and bolting like my life depended on it.
Because it probably did.
"Hey! Stop following me! I can really summon Hellfire, you know!" I shouted as I stumbled through the rain, my footsteps unsteady. It felt as if I had eyes on the back of my head—I could sense her right behind me, close enough to feel her presence.
The red figure's movements were eerily silent, but I knew she was there. At every corner, a glimpse of that crimson shadow in the corner of my eye confirmed she was still relentlessly pursuing me, like a specter refusing to let go.
"Just vanish already!" I panted, gritting my teeth as I cursed under my breath. "The mighty King of Hell, reduced to fleeing from a ghost! If this gets back to Hell, how am I supposed to live this down?!"
Suddenly, my foot hit a loose paving stone. I lost my balance, crashing face-first into the wet ground in an unceremonious heap.
The red figure stood just a few meters away, her head still bowed, shoulders trembling ever so slightly. That unsettling laughter echoed again, deeper and more sinister than before.
"Fine! I give up!" I sprawled on the ground, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Kill me, torture me, whatever you want! I'm too tired to run anymore!"
She stopped, her movements freezing as though surprised. Then, without a word, she turned and disappeared into the rain.
I lay there for several seconds, blinking in confusion, before cautiously pushing myself up. My eyes darted around the empty alley, confirming that she was truly gone.
"She left?" I muttered, hesitantly glancing left and right. Relief washed over me, but a nagging doubt lingered in my mind.
"Strange... it's like she wasn't actually trying to hurt me." I wiped the rainwater from my face, frowning as I mumbled, "Could it be... that I scared her?"
Just then, the streetlight in the distance flickered and abruptly went out with a loud snap. A chill ran down my spine, and I quickly clamped my mouth shut. "Nope. Not saying another word. Time to leave. Now."
"These Eastern ghosts..." I grumbled through gritted teeth, "why are they so much scarier than Western demons?"
In Hell, I could stand unflinching before rivers of molten lava, endure the deafening roars of countless demons, and even find humor in the wails of tormented souls. But ever since arriving in this strange Eastern world, nothing felt under control.
For starters, the ghosts here don't follow any rules. Western demons have predictable traits—fire, horns, wings, and even their stench adheres to some sort of infernal standard. But Eastern ghosts? They flicker between reality and illusion, intangible and invisible, completely devoid of logic!
"Red-dressed ghosts, hopping vampires, vengeful spirits..." I shivered at the fragmented legends pieced together from Shen Lu's memories.
What's worse is that these apparitions appear without any warning! Unlike the demons of Hell, who at least respect the authority of their king, these ghosts couldn't care less about who you are.
"Damn these Eastern customs..." I muttered, half-laughing at myself. "The mighty King of Hell, terrified to death by 'low-tier spirits.' How embarrassing."
Rain and cold wind slapped against my face as I trudged through the dim streets, my weary body barely holding up. Not far ahead, a faint light flickered from a convenience store's sign. I squinted, patted my empty pockets, hesitated for a moment, and then pushed open the glass door.
Warm air greeted me, carrying the scent of instant noodles and the hum of a refrigerator. It calmed my racing thoughts a little. I headed straight for the shelves, grabbing a bottle of water and a cup of noodles before approaching the counter.
Behind the counter, a young clerk was engrossed in his phone, not even noticing my presence until I cleared my throat and placed the items down. "Checkout," I said flatly.
He looked up, and his face froze. His gaze darted up and down my soaked, disheveled appearance, and I followed his eyes. Right. I looked like I'd just clawed my way out of a grave.
"You... okay?" he asked cautiously.
"Perfectly fine," I replied, feigning composure. I reached into my pockets, fumbling around for money, only to come up empty. My frown deepened as I patted myself down again. Damn it—I'd completely forgotten. This body doesn't have any cash!
"Uh... you can pay by scanning the QR code," the clerk offered hesitantly, pointing at a sign on the counter.
I blinked. "QR code? What's that supposed to mean?"
His expression shifted to one of awkward disbelief. "You know... with your phone? WeChat or Alipay?"
Phone? Shen Lu's fragmented memories hinted at such a thing, but it was nowhere on me. My face stiffened momentarily before I forced a calm demeanor. "I don't have my phone on me."
At that, the clerk's eyes grew wary. His gaze flicked between my hands and the items on the counter, as if calculating whether I might simply grab and run.
"Sorry, we don't allow credit or tabs," he said tentatively, inching his hand toward a button under the counter.
I took a deep breath, suppressing the humiliation bubbling inside me. "Listen, I really don't have my phone right now, but I swear I'm buying this. I'll come back tomorrow to pay you back."
He didn't look convinced. He simply shook his head, his hand lingering near the button.
"Fine." I straightened up, summoning whatever shred of authority I had left. "Then let me enlighten you. I am Lucifer, the King of Hell. If you trust me, I'll pay with a soul exchange. You know what a soul is, right?"
The clerk froze for a moment before his face twisted into an unreadable mix of disbelief and pity. He stared at me as if trying to decide whether I was insane or just plain drunk.
"Uh... sir, have you been drinking?" he ventured cautiously.
My pride shattered into a million pieces. The mighty King of Hell, unable to afford a cup of noodles and a bottle of water, reduced to being doubted by a mere mortal? If word of this got back to Hell, Azazel and the others would laugh themselves to death.
"Forget it!" I snapped, slamming the items back onto the shelf and storming out of the store.
Rain pelted my face again as I stood on the street, drenched and seething with frustration. This wretched place had rules that made no sense. At least in Hell, demons bartered with souls. Here, everything revolved around mobile payments!
Shaking my head furiously, I marched forward, a singular thought burning in my mind: I need to get a phone and some money. Without them, even the King of Hell can't survive.