Chapter 4

Walking Corpses, Living Flesh

Wait.

"Something’s off."

"What is?"

"Bro, your face ain’t familiar."

The corpse-man sniffed, nostrils flaring. Sesame paste meant nothing to him—but this scent?

Human.

Lin Ye’s heart slammed against his ribs.

Stay calm.

"Big bro, I’m freshly dead," he forced out. "See? Not rotting yet."

"...Fair enough. Chow time. Boss is waiting."

The logic held. The corpse-man shrugged.

"Y-yeah." Lin Ye nodded like a pecking chick, trailing the two through the gloom.

He’d wondered about "late-night chow." Now he saw.

A splintered wooden plank held a brawny villager—alive.

His throat gaped open, blood pulsing rhythmically onto the dirt. Beside him, a corpse-man feasted, jaws clamped on spurting arteries. The villager’s eyes—wide, glazed—tracked his own life ebbing away.

They eat the living.

Ice shot down Lin Ye’s spine.

Then came the gut-punch.

The three corpse-men finished gorging.

The leader’s milky eyes snapped to Lin Ye.

"New meat. Your turn."

Here it comes.

THUD-THUD-THUD. His heart tried to escape his chest. Sweat slicked his palms beneath the burial shroud.

"Well?" The leader’s neck tendons creaked as he tilted his head.

"N-nothing! Just… thought you might prefer something better than blood." Lin Ye’s voice barely held.

Thank the void for darkness.

If they saw sweat on a corpse? He’d be on that plank faster than a gravedigger’s spade.

"Oh?" Rot-blackened lips peeled back. "What ‘better’?"

"Incense offerings. From the living world. More… nutritious."

A gamble. Ghosts craved blood because they lacked spirit offerings. Give them incense? They’d bite.

"But you have it?" The leader’s brow-flesh bunched—a grotesque mimicry of suspicion.

"Freshly dead," Lin Ye bluffed smoothly. "From my mourning family."

Thank that awkward trade.

"Good. Very good." A rattle of approval from the leader’s chest.

No time to bask. Lin Ye distributed incense sticks—three for the corpse-men, one at each nearby grave mound. Passing a moss-caked urn half-buried in weeds, he paused. Probably houses a ghostess. He lit one last stick and planted it upright.

Just don’t haunt me later.

The three corpse-men inhaled, tendrils of spirit-smoke coiling into their nostrils. Bliss slackened their rotting faces.

Silence thickened. The night breathed cold.

Lin Ye’s gaze flicked between the villager’s hollow eyes and the feeders’ rapture.

This world. Corpses rule. Humans? Meat.

Revenge was a luxury. Survival? A razor’s edge.

But if he ended them…

His focus sharpened. Stats shimmered over the trio:

► ​​Name:​​ Corpse Captain

► ​​Rank:​​ Spectral Soldier (Mid-Stage)

► ​​Type:​​ Corpse-Folk

► ​​Evolution:​​ Walking Corpse → Jiangshi (Reanimated Corpse)

► ​​Skill:​​ Blood Hunger

[Blood Hunger]: Base ability for low-tier corpse-folk. Jiangshi evolution unlocks ‘Moon Gaze’ talent.

​​Corpse-Folk Hierarchy:​​

​​Corpse-Folk:​​ Flesh-clad dead. Start as Walking Corpses, evolve to Jiangshi.

​​Ghosts:​​ Spirit forms. Roaming wraiths → vengeful Specters.

​​Spirits:​​ Awakened flora/fauna. Guardians of places.

​​Miasmas:​​ Cursed residues. Attract calamity.

​​Nature Spirits:​​ Plants/objects refined into sentience (e.g., Willow Wisps, Bone Dancers).

​​Yokai:​​ Animal shifters (winged serpents, cattle disguised as humans).

​​Fiends:​​ Corruption-born from shattered minds.

Two grunts: Spectral Soldier (Early Stage).

This captain? Mid-Stage.

Excitement sparked in Lin Ye’s gut.

Higher rank → rarer loot.

A Longevity-grade drop? Possible.

He edged toward the bliss-drugged leader.

"Boss?"

"Mph?"

"Ever hear of… dragons?"

"What dragons?"

Lin Ye leaned in, whisper curling like smoke:

"​​Red.​​ Dragons."