Chapter 20 Three Thousand Weak Waters, Lifespan Exchange​​

The most striking feature was the teardrop-shaped gem embedded atop the ring.

Crystal-clear, it resembled a drop of pure water eternally frozen in place.

◉ ​​Three Thousand Weak Waters​​: Equipment

◉ Tier: Unknown!

◉ Lore: Wear this ring. Each ghost slain or sealed fills its hollow gem with a tear. Gather three thousand tears, and they coalesce into a single drop of Weak Water.

◉ Effect: One drop of Weak Water summons the River of Forgetfulness!

◉ Bonus: Each tear unlocks one additional inventory slot!

◉ Price: 1,000,000 Spirit Coins!

In essence:

Lin Ye would wear the ring, its gem hollow until filled by tears from slain ghosts.

Three thousand unique ghosts slain would forge one drop of Weak Water.

Then—

Summon the underworld’s River of Forgetfulness!

Three thousand tears.

Not too many.

Not too few.

No time to overthink.

This is the one.

"Purchase!"

Ding! System Notification: "Insufficient funds. Purchase failed!"

Huh?

Huh??

"System, I want this ring!"

Ding! System Notification: "Insufficient funds. Purchase failed!"

A closer look:

1,000,000 Spirit Coins.

His assets:

​​A bold, glaring ZERO.​​

My apologies.

Never mind, then.

"Anyone here?"

"Is there another way to buy this?"

The system wouldn’t trap him.

Rewarding a penniless man with one trip to the Spirit Bank meant—

There had to be another way.

True, his graveyard territory now earned coins by guarding tombs.

But a million?

That would take lifetimes.

Waiting was not an option.

So Lin Ye pressed on.

"​​One year of lifespan = 100,000 Spirit Coins.​​"

A cold, mechanical voice echoed through the bank’s hall.

Ghost Grinder.

Though unseen inside, he’d watched Lin Ye all along.

Ten years of life.

One million coins.

A steep price?

Lin Ye didn’t hesitate.

"Brother Grinder, I’ll trade ten years."

If Lin Ye’s natural lifespan was eighty, he’d now die at seventy.

Ten years—

A bitter loss.

But in this world of demons and ghosts?

Reaching eighty was a gamble.

A powerful ghost could end him in seconds.

Better to trade life for power.

"Another short-timer," Ghost Grinder mused scornfully.

But rules were rules.

He granted Lin Ye the coins, then stored the ten years in a vault within the bank.

Ding! System Notification: "Exchange successful! -10 years lifespan. +1,000,000 Spirit Coins."

"Buy Three Thousand Weak Waters!"

Ding! System Notification: "Purchase successful! Obtained Three Thousand Weak Waters!"

Instantly, his assets zeroed out.

His inventory now held a bone ring glowing with eerie light.

Wait—

One more thing.

His spirit marriage to the Ghost Bride had yielded a ​​Ghost-Corpse Blood Tear​​.

Could it count?

He fused it into the ring.

Ding! System Notification: "Ghost Bride’s Blood Tear fused! +1 inventory slot!"

Ding! System Notification: "First tear bonus: +1 Rootless Pure Water!"

Every transmigrated lord started with fifty inventory slots.

Once full? Store items in their tomb—like Lin Ye’s corpse-oil jars.

But with this ring?

Everything changed.

Fifty-one slots now—soon to be hundreds.

Lin Ye slipped the ring onto his finger, then eyed other treasures.

"Buy Wraith Bone Map!"

Ding! "Failed! Conditions unmet."

"Buy Ten Thousand Soul Banner!"

Ding! "Failed! Conditions unmet."

After several attempts, he accepted:

One purchase per visit.

"Brother Grinder, I’m done. Send me back."

Ghost Grinder guided his return.

Lin Ye’s shopping spree was over, but his thirst wasn’t quenched.

As the bank’s envoy, Ghost Grinder surely had treasures of his own.

Bank trades were restricted—but personal ones?

"Brother Grinder," Lin Ye ventured, "got any artifacts to sell? I’ll trade more lifespan."

Ten years gone?

Fifteen was manageable.

Twenty?

Grit his teeth—doable.

Ghost Grinder studied Lin Ye, then the dark aura above his head.

"Child."

"Huh?"

"When you can, eat two Longevity Fruits first."

"Meaning?"

"Exactly what it sounds like."

Ghosts have their codes.

This was all he could say.

Trading further?

Lin Ye might die on his spectral mount.

"You mean... I won’t live long?"

"Fate cannot be spoken."

No direct answer—but the implications were clear.

This world’s air festered with ghost-energy, corpse-taint, resentment, demonic miasma.

Humans? The weakest faction.

Daily, they faced horrors:

Headless ghosts demanding replacements.

Drowning ghosts dragging victims underwater.

Surviving unscathed was a miracle.

"Thank you, Elder. I’ll remember."

At their parting, Lin Ye bowed deeply.

Ghost Grinder, a Ghost Monarch, had shown mercy beyond duty. He deserved this respect.

Lin Ye marveled again at the Spirit Bank’s depth.

A Ghost Monarch—merely an envoy!

What power must its true master wield?