As far as Erlang Shen was concerned, she still clearly remembered that Lord Laojun's arrival had been about a few dozen hours ago.
At the time she had been leisurely waiting inside the Underworld for Anthony (Prometheus) to come back, when, all of a sudden, the gate of the Yellow Springs Road opened up.
At first, Erlang Shen had assumed it was that damn monkey showing up again. But it wasn't until the visitor walked right up in front of her that Erlang Shen, in shock, finally recognized the other party.
The Grand Supreme Lord Laojun.
"Weren't you the one claiming, just a little while back, that your elixir-refining wasn't going well and that you didn't want anyone disturbing you?"
Erlang Shen looked over at Lord Laojun with a raised brow, and said:
"So how is it that you suddenly have time to come down here to the Underworld and take a look?"
"That whole seclusion-cultivation business — it just ended a moment ago."
The Grand Supreme Lord Laojun said this with a calm, indifferent air — face unflushed, heart unperturbed — making the corner of Erlang Shen's eye twitch ever so slightly.
"And as for the Underworld, since the new Hades has already assumed the position, I really ought to come and confirm the situation in person."
Lord Laojun then murmured this in a quiet, somber tone, her expression remaining placid, betraying no emotion whatsoever.
This old thing was always like this.
Erlang Shen had long since grown used to it.
And so, paying no mind to Lord Laojun's expression, she merely turned her head to sweep a glance around the Underworld, and then said with a laugh:
"Oh? Out of seclusion and feeling generous enough to spare a bit of concern for the Underworld? Stopping by to patch things up and take on some handyman work?"
"I will help with repairing the Underworld. There are also some parts that can only be repaired by me — the new Hades's foundations still aren't deep enough."
But the Grand Supreme Lord Laojun's reply had gone well beyond Erlang Shen's expectations. She narrowed her eyes at Lord Laojun, feeling that something, somewhere, was strangely off.
It seemed that ever since Lord Laojun had come down here to the Underworld, this inexplicable sense of wrongness had taken root in Erlang Shen's heart.
"I'll be leaving in a little while, you know."
The Grand Supreme Lord Laojun rose to her feet and said calmly, "I'll take one more look at the new Hades, and then I'll be on my way."
"Once you actually need to start repairing the Underworld, just call for me."
"You come all this way, just show up and then up and leave — what's this whole trip even for?"
Erlang Shen frowned, asking with a touch of bewilderment. Lord Laojun paused for a beat, then said:
"I just wanted to see what he's like now, that's all."
"He really isn't all that different from what I'd imagined."
Having said these words, Lord Laojun gave Erlang Shen no further opening to keep questioning her, simply turning around and walking off.
Erlang Shen was left alone to watch Lord Laojun's receding back, frowning, in a stretch of silence.
...
Inside the Eighteen Levels of Hell, Anthony (Prometheus) had sorted the many souls into their proper categories and positions, and then let out a breath.
At the same time, he was silently turning over in his head from which angle, in his upcoming plan to repair the Underworld's reincarnation function, he ought to begin.
But just at that moment, he sensed someone approaching. When he turned around, he discovered that the blue-haired girl was already standing right behind him, her expression as blank as ever.
"Is there something you need?"
Anthony (Prometheus) asked, looking at Lord Laojun, hesitating for a moment.
"Nothing in particular. I just came to take a look at you, that's all."
Lord Laojun smoothed back a strand of hair at her temple and came to stand at Anthony (Prometheus)'s side, gazing off into the distance, down toward the Eighteen Levels of Hell — depths of unknown measure beneath them.
All of a sudden, she spoke up softly: "You really haven't changed much from how I remember you."
"Did I know you before?"
Anthony (Prometheus) asked, his expression carrying a hint of strangeness. Lord Laojun shrugged her shoulders and said:
"No. I simply drew my impression of you from the records that tell your story. After all, I can be counted as a Pen Spirit, you know."
"I heard about the matter of repairing the Underworld from Erlang. What's your plan from here on out?"
"I'm not too sure yet. If I really had to say, then maybe I'd start with Meng Po's Soup first?"
After thinking it over for a bit, Anthony (Prometheus) — without much reservation at all — answered Lord Laojun's question directly.
But upon hearing those three little words, the expressionless girl's face displayed, unusually, a small ripple of emotion.
It was as though a few pixels on her face had managed to move with some effort, revealing the makings of a headache.
"You really ought to hold off on repairing Meng Po's Soup for now. The ghosts have been wandering through the mortal world too long — the ones eligible for reincarnation have already had their memories washed clean more or less automatically by this point."
After a stretch of silence, Lord Laojun — with a slightly headache-stricken air — finally offered her advice:
"Getting the channel of reincarnation up and running first — that is the proper order of things."
"Is there some kind of trick or angle with Meng Po's Soup?"
"No. If at all possible, I'd actually prefer that you not bother repairing that thing in your spare time at all."
Lord Laojun said this with no expression on her face, while privately grumbling to herself.
Others might not know, but Lord Laojun was relatively familiar with this whole pattern.
This guy really was the same as ever. Every single time he came back, he'd be partway through repairs and then start thinking he ought to whip up Meng Po's Soup first.
Do you Forgemasters all have some kind of special sentimental attachment to this thing or what? Why on earth are you all so fixated on it day in and day out?
Lord Laojun thought this in exasperation. Even though her face remained expressionless, an inexplicable trace of pent-up grievance was rising up in her heart.
Anthony (Prometheus) suddenly felt a sharp wave of cold pass through him, sensing an unaccountable air of resentment hanging in the surroundings.
Was there really still some malevolent spirit here in the Eighteen Levels of Hell capable of making him shiver?
"Do you have some sort of issue with Meng Po's Soup?"
Anthony (Prometheus), having calmed himself for a moment, turned his head and asked Lord Laojun. Hearing this, the blue-haired girl — although her face still remained expressionless — looked even more melancholy-resentful than before.
"I do. If not for that thing, I wouldn't have to bitterly wait around for certain people."
She shook her head, speaking in a flat tone.
"A Pen Spirit has people she's waiting for too?"
"Mortals who have had their memories washed clean, or gods and immortals reborn through reincarnation — all of them, traditionally, have had to drink Meng Po's Soup. One after another, the list of people I have to wait for piles up to a fair size."
Lord Laojun paused, then continued, "And then there are always these inexplicable occasions when I get asked to do various favors — to keep an eye on certain people through their cycles of rebirth."
"It piles up and piles up until it becomes a headache. This kind of thing is the most troublesome of all — you have to wait for the reincarnated person to slowly remember on their own, and you can't really nudge them along midway."
"And if luck isn't on your side, just as someone is about to remember, off they go and drink Meng Po's Soup again — and then in a flash everything resets and you start over from scratch."
"The most troublesome part is that there are some people — I don't even know how many times around it's been now — and the whole thing still isn't over. To this very day I still haven't seen any end in sight."
"I have a feeling this honestly doesn't have much to do with Meng Po's Soup."
Anthony (Prometheus) said this, but then he saw Lord Laojun glaring at him with her eyes, and the latter half of his sentence got swallowed back down whole — he didn't dare go on any further.
He raised both hands, signaling that he wouldn't say anything more.
Suddenly, the blue-haired girl took hold of Anthony (Prometheus)'s hand. By the time Anthony (Prometheus) had snapped back to his senses, the blue-haired girl had already let go.
He looked down at his hand and found that an extra pen had appeared there.
"Consider it a hand to help you out. You can take it to use for repairing the Underworld."
Lord Laojun said, even as she stepped back, "I won't bother you with anything more than is necessary. I'll come back again, sometime later on."
Looking at the pen Lord Laojun had left him, Anthony (Prometheus)'s eyes lit up — he could feel the enormous utility this thing possessed.
For just a moment, watching the girl who was about to leave, he seemed to grow a touch reluctant to part with her.
"When are you coming next time?"
Without thinking, he found himself calling out the question. Lord Laojun's footsteps paused for the briefest moment, an expression of mixed feelings crossing her face.
That look — going wide-eyed at the sight of profit — was thoroughly familiar to her.
You Forgemasters are all exactly the same!!
"Whatever happens next time will be dealt with next time. What's all this constant questioning for?"
Lord Laojun shot him a slight glare, left those words behind her, and walked straight out of there.
Anthony (Prometheus), watching the girl's departing back, was silent for a while, then let out a sigh and gave up on thinking about it.
Never mind. All the messy, tangled stuff could be left for later.
He went back to the Main Hall of the Underworld. There, Erlang Shen was still waiting, looking as though she had maintained the very same posture she'd had when Anthony (Prometheus) had left.
"Did the Pen Spirit just go to see you?"
Erlang Shen lifted her head, asking the question offhandedly. Anthony (Prometheus) gave a small nod, and so Erlang Shen went on:
"When you talk to that old thing on a regular basis, watch yourself. Don't fall into any of her traps."
"How old is she?"
"Quite a lot older than me, in any case."
Erlang Shen said, pulling a face, and then got to her feet, giving Anthony (Prometheus)'s shoulder a pat: "All right then — I won't disturb your Underworld-repair work any longer. I'm taking off first."
"Once you're done repairing the Underworld, remember to come along with me for another stroll through the mortal world."
"Oh, right — these are for you."
As he spoke, Anthony (Prometheus) pulled out a huge pile of merchandise and shoved it into Erlang Shen's arms. Erlang Shen was momentarily taken aback.
"All of this is for me?"
"Mn. After getting back from the Dragon Clan side, I realized this is about all I had left I could bring along."
"Honestly speaking, you might as well just power Haku down and leave him over at my place for a few days..."
"That's a no!"
Anthony (Prometheus)'s expression turned serious in an instant, and he refused firmly. Erlang Shen shrugged, choosing not to press the matter any further, and just accepted the heap of stuff Anthony (Prometheus) was passing over to her.
Right after that, with a wave of her hand, she headed off toward the exit and left the Main Hall of the Underworld.
What came next was Anthony (Prometheus)'s own business to handle.
"Time to start getting ready to break through the reincarnation channels of the Underworld."
He muttered this to himself, gave a wave of his hand, and in that very instant, throughout the Underworld, countless souls rose up from the Eighteen Levels of Hell. The pen appeared, too, in the palm of Anthony (Prometheus)'s hand.
He recalled the words the girl had spoken just before she'd left.
Anything related to Meng Po's Soup should be set aside for now — which meant the most pressing task was to first fix up the Bridge of Naihe.
Once the Bridge of Naihe was repaired, he also needed to make it so that souls could reincarnate, slowly taking new form again.
Before long, Anthony (Prometheus) had the rough outline of a plan worked out in his mind. At once he began directing the vast multitude of souls, sending them surging toward his target.
In that instant, the broken-down Bridge of Naihe began to be restored, while Anthony (Prometheus) lifted the pen in his hand and gave it the slightest of flicks.
Perhaps it was the power that came from the Pen Spirit, but in any case, it began to take effect.
It was as though he were correcting reality itself, directly overwriting the broken-down reality of the Bridge of Naihe. Together with the massive influx of souls pouring in, in a single instant the bridge had taken on an entirely new appearance.
For some reason, Anthony (Prometheus) kept wanting to crack a remark about this thing.
This is so damn like a Forgemaster!!
This effect, this ability — Anthony (Prometheus) was practically too familiar with it already!!
But complaining inside his head was one thing — the work at hand still couldn't be paused for now. Without hesitation, Anthony (Prometheus) turned the tip of the pen.
And so, that pen in his hand — half of which had already been used up — pointed itself toward the deepest part of the Underworld.
There, a passage lay. Drawing on his present perception and understanding of the Underworld, Anthony (Prometheus) naturally came to realize that this was the key to reincarnation.
What flowed below that place was something akin to a substance that could revert souls back to their primordial state.
By relying on that thing, and then transferring the souls back inward, the effect of reincarnation could be brought to completion.
As Anthony (Prometheus) thought all this over, he raised the pen. In that instant, the power of countless souls came surging in a tide, hurling itself toward that spot in attack.
At last, the tip of the pen pressed down.
Beneath the impact of all those souls, within the Eighteen Levels of Hell, malevolent spirits howled, and the great gate of reincarnation slammed wide open with a thunderous boom!!
And then Anthony (Prometheus) saw — flowing beneath that gate of reincarnation — water of dazzling, kaleidoscopic colors.
For a moment, after a long stretch of silence, Anthony (Prometheus) finally, slowly, deliberately, typed out a single question mark.
Are you kidding me, bro? What the actual hell does it mean that the Primordial River is still chasing after me?!
Sure, the Underworld is located along one of the tributaries of the Primordial River — but why on earth is the underside of the Underworld directly connected to the goddamn Primordial River?! Is this seriously legit?!
That said, credit where it's due — when it comes to this whole reincarnation function, the Primordial River really does seem like it can damn well pull it off!!
After all, you just have to scoop up the souls, fish them back out of the Primordial River in good time, give them a wash, and what you've got is a brand-new, pristine soul!!
A soul like that could be tossed straight into The World and enter the rebirth phase directly.
For a moment, Anthony (Prometheus) turned it over carefully in his mind — and to his surprise, it actually struck him as oddly, damn well reasonable.
And so Anthony (Prometheus) was left with a mouthful of complaint lodged in his throat, unable to be coughed up no matter how he tried.
At last, after long deliberation, Anthony (Prometheus) gave up trying to think it through and decided to open up the chat group first and see what the situation was like at the moment.
Things being what they were — better to just shoot the breeze in the group first.
[AAA City Female Ghost: Smoke Haze War sincerely seeking commanders]
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: The moment I came in I saw you recruiting — front line getting strained?]
[AAA City Female Ghost: Not really, just casually asking around to see if anyone feels like coming to play. Old habit by now.]
[AAA City Female Ghost: Also, honestly speaking, I get the feeling everyone's been pretty damn idle since they got resurrected.]
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: Now that you mention it, that really does seem to be the case.]
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: Not long ago, it felt like barely anyone in our group was even alive — and now, in the blink of an eye, it's down to just you and me. Oh, and one Theresa.]
[Terra Sarkaz Female Spy: ...]
Theresa surfaced just long enough to indicate that she, personally, was still dead.
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: This far into things, and somehow the two of us still have absolutely no progress in sight on the resurrection front?]
[AAA City Female Ghost: I dunno, man — Lobotomy Corp hasn't even gotten off the ground yet.]
[LetNightCityBurn: I've actually been pretty free lately. If you need me, just call me in.]
[AllyOfJustice: Same here.]
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: Forget it. Carmen can probably handle things on the Smoke Haze War end — no need to go to all that trouble.]
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: That said, after dealing with stuff for this long, things really do feel like they've slowed down a bit lately. Not much going on these days.]
[Grand Flame Wordsmith: Every time you say a line like that, I get the feeling something bad is about to happen.]
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: It's just the truth — everyone's idle right now, and plenty of folks don't have anything to do.]
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: I mean, we can't very well suddenly drag everyone in and tell them it's our turn to go fight Sukuna, can we?]
The words had barely fallen when a notification from the chat group lit up.
[Welcome new group member 'Strongest Modern Jujutsu Sorcerer' to the chat]
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: ?]
Looking at the message that had popped up in the chat group, Anthony (Prometheus) instinctively typed out a question mark, his expression gradually turning peculiar.
[Master of the Pure White Holy Seat: Hold up, hold up a second — what do you mean by 'it's actually our turn to fight Sukuna for real?!']
____
👻🔥Seek: Walnut-chan🔥👻
🔥 New history: Homelander: Founding the Hero Association
Let's hit these goals:
🎯 100 Powerstones = 1 extra chapter for the public!