Die, Replay, Repeat

The group couldn't shake their growing suspicion about Wei Xin—How could someone survive two years in the Land Between without growing stronger? Only the dead remained stagnant.

Their thoughts flashed back to the corpses they'd encountered in the Grave Yard.

Wei Xin gave them a stiff, corpse-like smile.

"You'll find the answer to that question soon enough," he said. "Of course, that depends on whether you can survive here in the Land Between."

His rigid expression, paired with the sinister vibe, sent a chill through the group.

"Now then, let's discuss payment," Wei Xin announced suddenly.

"Payment?" The group was caught off guard.

Wei Xin nodded. "Surely you didn't think my warning was out of the kindness of my heart, did you? I saved your lives, so now you owe me. Let me offer you a free piece of advice: in the Land Between, the most important thing isn't strength—it's money. Here, money is everything."

The statement left the group bewildered.

"Money? What's the point of money in a place like this?" someone asked.

Wei Xin's lips curved into a cryptic smile. "The money I'm talking about isn't what you used in the living world. I'm referring to Spirit Money."

The group exchanged confused glances before one of them scoffed. "Spirit Money? Are you joking? Even if we were dealing with Specters, Spirit Money wouldn't help. Specters aren't traditional ghosts."

Unperturbed, Wei Xin shook his head. "Yes, Spirit Money. But I never said it's for trading with Specters. It's for trading with the dead. You'll understand its importance soon enough.

"For now, let's settle the matter of payment. I know you don't have any Spirit Money yet, so I'll let you owe me. Since you're newcomers, I'll cut you a deal—10,000 Spirit Money per person for saving your lives."

The group frowned, irritated by Wei Xin's cryptic explanations and his sudden demand. He seemed to thrive on giving vague hints like, "you'll see soon enough," without elaborating.

Li Xiaoru's tone was sharp as she spoke. "Those white ribbons wouldn't have been able to trap us even without your warning. Don't overestimate your importance."

Meanwhile, Yang Ming, who had always been sensitive about money, immediately bristled. The idea of owing a debt—whether real-world money or Spirit Money—set him on edge.

"We didn't ask for your help!" Yang Ming argued. "You warned us on your own. Why should we owe you anything? This is absurd!"

Wei Xin remained unruffled. "I gave you a solution. You used my solution, so you owe me. Let me offer another friendly piece of advice: in the Land Between, never think about dodging payment. It's a rule everyone abides by. Refusing to pay makes you a public enemy."

His gaze shifted to Fang Xiu. "By the way, this guy doesn't need to pay—he used his own method. I'm nothing if not fair. But the rest of you? 10,000 per person. Not a single coin less." Ɽ₳ＮΟBЕŝ

Although they didn't yet understand Spirit Money's significance, Wei Xin's insistence on payment made it clear that it was vital in the Land Between.

Wei Xin continued in his calm, unyielding tone. "One more thing—the boat tickets aren't free. 1,000 Spirit Money per person. I know you don't have any Spirit Money right now, so I'll lend it to you. You can repay me later. The loan is 1,000 upfront, but the debt will be 10,000 per person."

Yang Ming nearly exploded. "Lend 1,000 but charge 10,000?! Why not just rob us outright?"

Wei Xin chuckled. "Robbing you wouldn't be as profitable as this."

Fang Xiu's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile as he watched Wei Xin's unshaken demeanor.

This journey into the Land Between was proving to be more intriguing than he had anticipated.

"Perhaps we have a better option," Fang Xiu said suddenly, his calm voice cutting through the tension.

"Oh? And what option might that be?" Wei Xin asked, narrowing his eyes. He stared at Fang Xiu, the clear leader of the group. "Let me guess. You're thinking of attacking me, stealing my Spirit Money, and walking away debt-free—with a tidy profit on top?"

Fang Xiu's calm nod confirmed it. "That's exactly right."

Wei Xin chuckled coldly. "Bold, I'll give you that. But I'd advise against it, because—"

"Sorry, but I don't take advice," Fang Xiu interrupted.

SWISH!

In an instant, Fang Xiu's Scalpel became a gleaming arc of light, slicing through the air toward Wei Xin's throat with lethal precision.

Wei Xin made no effort to dodge; his cold smile didn't waver.

PFFT!

The Scalpel struck true, piercing through his neck effortlessly.

But instead of blood, Wei Xin's body burst apart like a fragile bubble, leaving behind only a crumpled paper effigy that fluttered to the ground.

Around it, a few pieces of Spirit Money fell as well, drifting lightly in the still air.

The effigy bore a neat slash across its neck, matching the path of Fang Xiu's Scalpel.

Fang Xiu frowned slightly. He had found Wei Xin's lack of fear suspicious from the start, and now it made sense—this was not Wei Xin's real body.

At that moment, the effigy on the ground spoke, Wei Xin's mocking voice emanating from it.

"You should've let me finish," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But now it's too late. In the Land Between, once a deal is made, it must be honored. Break that rule, and the dead won't trade with you.

"And those Spirit Money bills on the ground? They're mine. Unless I willingly give them to you, they're as good as useless. No amount of effort will let you use them.

"Oh, and by the way, breaking the deal means the Ferryman won't take you either. You're stuck here now. Forever."

Yang Ming's temper flared. "Bullshit! When did we agree to any deal? From start to finish, you forced this nonsense on us!"

The effigy let out a chilling laugh. "The boat ticket might not have been finalized, but the moment you used my method to escape the white ribbons, the deal was sealed. Hahaha… You poor fools. Such a pity—I had grand plans for you. Those two women? Not bad at all. I've grown bored of the ones here. What a shame, what a shame…"

The voice grew weaker until it finally faded, leaving only the oppressive silence of the forest.

The group's expressions darkened. While they didn't fully understand the implications of Wei Xin's words, it was clear they had been manipulated, and the consequences could be dire.

"Xiu, what now?" Yang Ming asked, his anger giving way to unease. He looked to Fang Xiu for guidance, as always in moments of crisis.

Fang Xiu's calm remained unshaken. His gaze was fixed on the lake. "A boat is coming," he said faintly.

The others followed his line of sight. Sure enough, through the dense mist, a small flat-bottomed boat was gliding silently across the water.

On the boat stood a figure clad in a straw raincoat and conical hat, rowing with slow, deliberate movements.

"That must be the Ferryman Wei Xin mentioned," Li Xiaoru said warily. "How many people—or things—are in this cursed place?"

"It's probably not a person," Luo Qingxin replied, her voice cool but firm. "Remember what Wei Xin said? Spirit Money is for trading with the dead."

Xiao Chuxia's voice quivered. "You mean… the Ferryman is dead?"

When the boat reached the shore, the group got a clear view of the Ferryman's appearance. Their faces paled in shock.

It wasn't a person at all—it was a corpse.

The Ferryman's skin was shriveled, resembling the bark of a withered tree. Its body was skeletal, with flesh stretched tightly over brittle bones.

Where its eyes should have been, there were only hollow sockets, crawling with wriggling maggots.

Despite its grotesque appearance, the corpse moved with eerie precision, rowing the boat steadily across the dark, still waters.

Translator's note:

Spirit Money exists in real-world Chinese culture. It is believed to be money that the deceased can use in the afterlife—specifically in the "underworld," known as Difu in traditional Chinese beliefs.

This underworld is thought to have a bureaucratic system similar to that of the living world. Before reincarnation, a person's soul is said to remain there, requiring money for bribes or other necessities.

Traditional Spirit Money is made from yellow straw paper, which is quite coarse. However, with advances in printing technology, modern versions come in various forms, such as ghost money that resembles the colors and shapes of Chinese yuan but with entirely different designs.

Additionally, people also burn paper models of houses and other items, believing that the deceased will receive them in the afterlife. As times have changed, paper models of smartphones, cameras, and other modern items have also become common offerings.

For outsiders, this practice might seem puzzling, but I've seen a friend burn such items for her father. It's a way to honor and remember the deceased, offering comfort to the living by giving them a sense that they've done something for their loved ones, helping to ease any lingering regrets.

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