bookrandom Chapter 457
Chapter 457
"what!!!"
The people around him were running for their lives, but Zhong Ming stood by the mirror, roaring at them, "Tell me, where is the ghost? Where is it?"
Zhong Ming's questioning made them slow down. One of them mustered up the courage to turn around and saw Zhong Ming looking in the mirror while angrily questioning them. He was stunned.
"You...you didn't see a ghost?"
"Where are the ghosts?"
Zhong Ming stared at the mirror repeatedly but couldn't see anything wrong. Could it be that the mirror was too old and he needed to do his old job of sharpening it for a while?
The man cautiously approached Zhong Ming and asked, "You look unfamiliar. Aren't you from Hongzhen?"
"Yes, I'm from out of town."
"It's very difficult for outsiders to see ghosts... but you have to go far away. These days, many people are curious and stare at people who have seen ghosts. Then, when that person is killed by the ghost, these outsiders will also die."
"When are you going to die? I'll be waiting over there." Zhong Ming's words immediately offended the young man, but the ancient mirror was right at Zhong Ming's feet, so he really didn't dare to do anything reckless.
"How can you curse someone to die like that? Get out of here."
Zhong Ming resisted the urge to slam his head against the mirror; after all, we weren't exactly villains.
He held the mirror in his hand, polished it with a mirror-polishing brick, and the mirror regained its shine. He looked at himself in the mirror from left to right, and then suddenly said:
"Do you think it's possible that this ghost looks exactly like me?"
"Crazy," the man cursed, and walked further away.
Zhong Ming swaggered down the street with the mirror in his hand, and the effect was even better than when the emperor went out. Countless people got up and dodged, not daring to say a word.
He walked straight toward the town center.
In the center of the town is a temple, in front of which is a large open space. To the side is a stage and a larger shop. The shop is empty, but the stage is packed with people.
Many people wait here for their death; they were baptized in the temple at birth, and they will turn to ashes in front of the temple when they die.
Zhong Ming's arrival unusually went unnoticed; everyone assumed he was just an ordinary townsman, there to await his death like they were.
At this time, there were still some voices in the middle of the town.
"Get lost! I'm about to die, what am I afraid of? Anyone who tries to take this robe today, I'll stab them to death!"
A burly man stood on the stage, dressed in a "Overlord" costume from the theater. He was shoving and pushing with a group of people. In a fit of anger, he swung his halberd and smashed it, sending one of the people being pulled in the chaos flying.
He stood out as exceptionally strong among a group of people who were too hungry to move.
"I'm going to fight this demon! Even if I die, I'll die standing! Cowards, you're all cowards!"
"It's no use, it's no use. You can't catch ghosts, you can't see ghosts. I witnessed the deaths of six people, who collapsed in fear. Just enjoy your last moments."
The burly man remained unmoved. He had found what he considered to be the correct theory: "I can't see ghosts, but can't the Overlord see them? I'll invite him to possess me right now!"
He broke free from the restraints of several people and sang an off-key excerpt from a traditional opera song on stage. After just a few lines, it was clear that he was not a professional opera singer at all, but just an audience member.
The wooden halberd flew wildly through the air. Zhong Ming rarely saw someone so spirited, so he smiled slightly and jumped onto the stage.
This startled the people watching, as the platform was quite high.
Where did he come from?
"I don't know, it's definitely behind me."
"You're a good two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) away from the platform!"
The moment Zhong Ming stepped onto the stage, even a fool could tell he was a trained fighter.
"Who is coming!"
The man shouted in a broken Peking Opera voice, his mind filled with the image of Xiang Yu facing the enemy in battle, forcing himself to get into character.
Zhong Ming clasped his hands together, the sound carrying for miles. He then assumed a fist stance and replied, "I am Li Jin of the Silu Divine Fist. We have heard of the Overlord: his iron halberd flashes with cold light, his imposing presence is awe-inspiring, and he holds a pheasant feather in his beak, vowing to crush the devil. We have come to assist you."
After saying that, he randomly threw a bunch of punches.
The burly man was confused. Why would someone come up to act in a show when they're supposed to be inviting a god? Whatever, finally someone with a bit of courage stepped forward.
"Good! Today we fight! Let's see if my halberd is more powerful or your fists are stronger. Let's see the treacherous winds and howling mountains, the heroes showing off their prowess on the three-inch platform, the banners fluttering in the west wind, the black armor..." As he sang, the man forgot the lyrics.
Zhong Ming immediately started making up a few lines to continue, "The evil spirits laugh, the gloomy clouds are gone, scattered in the wind and drifting in the rain, who is a true man today? Born a hero who can defeat ten thousand men, died a demon king summoned by Asura, a million blood brothers died on the battlefield, summoning ghosts to rise again in the mountains and forests, who doesn't have relatives in the underworld, who says that ancestors don't protect them, wearing robes, stepping on war drums, carrying battle flags on their backs, holding whisks, the Three Pure Ones are summoned in the human world, Buddha temples are before their eyes, ancestors and emperors are on the altar, the City God and the Earth God are on both sides..."
He spoke quickly and urgently, his words clear and articulate, which made some of the older opera fans in the audience open their eyes slightly.
Let them die if they want; they might as well watch.
The burly man forgot his lines and skipped straight to the climax of the song. He had barely uttered a few words when Zhong Ming stomped his foot and raised his hand, revealing an ancient mirror hanging high, resembling the sun.
"what!!!"
He roared in agony, "The Overlord, the Overlord himself has come to claim my soul!"
Zhong Ming was puzzled, so he took out the hook-and-sickle spear and slightly turned the hand holding the mirror so that he could also see the contents in the mirror, but everything was still normal.
"What does the evil spirit look like! Tell me quickly, tell me quickly, what does the Death Tyrant look like?"
"Ah... Kill, kill! Kill this damned tyrant... Sunken eyes, high nose, sallow face, chin sculpted with a knife..."
As Zhong Ming listened to his description, it sounded more and more like the big man himself. Of course, wasn't he looking in the mirror?
"Don't panic, don't panic, it's you in the mirror, the evil spirit is not yet here." As soon as the words were spoken, the wooden halberd fell to the ground with a clatter, and the person's face turned from yellow to white, and from white to gray, just as others had described.
Zhong Ming was solemn, his eyes constantly scanning with his magic, only to see the surrounding spiritual energy fluctuating wildly, and a huge array appearing and disappearing on the ground.
A rift suddenly appeared, and the corpse shattered under the immense suction force, being sucked into the rift. Zhong Ming also felt disoriented, and his control over his body actually decreased somewhat.
With a flick of his wrist, he steadied himself and was about to leap into the crevice when, just as he was about to step in, the crevice suddenly closed.
Zhong Ming brandished the "Late Spring Cold" weapon, his spiritual power condensed but not released. He then practiced his spear technique on the spot, slashing down at the spot where the rift appeared. Seeing that it was ineffective, he moved the weapon forward a little further, allowing the "Spiritual Retirement Home" to slash down there.
Beside the stage, the old monk who had been sitting in front of the temple's main Buddha hall suddenly opened his eyes, his chanting of sutras and Buddhist prayers abruptly stopped, and he stood up and took a few steps outside.
Zhong Ming danced wildly, as if possessed by a demon. The crowd below either fled for their lives or dared not move, believing that the person on the stage was fighting a demon.
"Amitabha," the old monk chanted, "Where does this benefactor come from?"