Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Master Is a Whalesome Tycoon

As soon as the wails of ghosts began, wisps of phantoms started drifting continuously from the mounds of each grave. Witnessing this, Li Yunfei nearly cursed aloud—this system was blatantly ignoring all rules of common sense. Whether the souls buried here had reincarnated or still existed was of no concern; in the face of the system’s overwhelming power, such matters were trivial. But for a single grave to spit out a dozen or twenty ghosts—what madness was this? Who would bury so many people in one tomb? A little logic, please!

There were dozens of graves here. At this rate, how many ghosts would he have to eliminate to clear this scenario? Thankfully, he had prepared thoroughly. Had he been the least bit careless and charged in recklessly, he would have been surrounded in moments, torn to shreds by the ghostly horde.

The apparitions emerging from the graves wore all manner of attire, but most shared a common feature: their eyes glowed blood-red, and their bodies radiated a murderous, bloody aura. Only a small number had eyes shining with black light, their forms shrouded in swirling resentment. The ones exuding murderous energy were fierce spirits; those enshrouded in grievance were vengeful wraiths.

Most of the time, the system ignored logical constraints, but in certain respects, it adhered strictly to them. Ordinarily, those buried in graveyards had died natural deaths, with only a handful harboring bitter resentment at the time of passing. To strengthen the enemies in the dungeon, the system simply amplified the hostility and soul power of the normal spirits, transforming them into fierce ghosts. Those who had died with grievances naturally became vengeful wraiths.

Li Yunfei’s scalp tingled as he watched ghost after ghost float from the graves. In the end, he realized that no fewer than a thousand phantoms had emerged from this cemetery. Over a thousand fierce spirits and wraiths drifted restlessly, a dense, dizzying spectacle.

Just as he thought this was the extent of the scenario, new developments arose. The grave mounds began to split open, and from each one leaped a corpse clad in Qing dynasty official robes—the very sort he’d only seen in old Mr. Nine’s films. Fortunately, this time only one zombie jumped from each grave, totaling about sixty—these were far more troublesome than the specters.

All these zombies were pitch-black, their bodies shriveled and hard—these were the infamous Black Zombies.

Zombies are classified into nine levels, from lowest to highest: Violet Zombie, White Zombie, Black Zombie, Green Zombie, Hairy Zombie, Flying Zombie, Wandering Corpse, Imperishable Skeleton, Drought Demon.

A Violet Zombie is a recently deceased body that remains uncorrupted due to special circumstances, its flesh turning violet and rigid, but still immobile—an incomplete zombie, in the process of transformation.

When a Violet Zombie completes its development and can move, its skin turns white, becoming a White Zombie. Only then does it become a true, complete corpse walker, though it remains weak, slow-moving, afraid of sunlight, fire, water, chickens, dogs, and even people. Only at midnight can it absorb the essence of the moon to cultivate, or feed on resentment to gradually grow stronger.

The Black Zombie is an advanced form of the White Zombie: it moves faster, its body turns black, shriveled and tough, making it much stronger and more resilient. It ceases to fear humans or animals, and is no longer afraid of water. It can cultivate by sucking blood, but is still vulnerable to fire and sunlight. For ordinary exorcists or Taoist priests, a prepared confrontation is manageable.

When the Black Zombie’s body becomes plump and somewhat human-like, it evolves into a Green Zombie. Though more human in form, its skin is green and its appearance hideous, radiating an eerie green corpse aura—truly evil in aspect. Except for sunlight, it fears nothing that lesser zombies do, and begins to develop rudimentary intelligence. Its eyes see, it can leap half a zhang high and over ten feet in distance, moving with incredible speed. By this stage, common priests and low-level Taoists are outmatched.

When green fur sprouts upon the Green Zombie, it becomes a Hairy Zombie. With skin of bronze and bones of iron, it is nearly immune to physical attacks; the higher its cultivation, the tougher its body. Agile and able to leap onto roofs and into trees, it no longer fears sunlight, and its full intelligence awakens—making it a fearsome foe.

Flying Zombies are another matter entirely: not only do they fear neither sunlight nor weapons, nor fire nor water, but they can soar through the air and wield blood magic. Such a being is less a zombie and more a corpse demon—a monster born from a cadaver. Any human cultivator below the Golden Core stage stands no chance of subduing it.

The Wandering Corpse is a further evolution, with deep cultivation and extraordinary speed, capable of traveling from the North Sea to Cangwu by nightfall—no slower than a sword-immortal riding their blade. It can control all lesser zombies within tens of miles, serving as a veritable zombie king.

As for the Imperishable Skeleton, its body is indestructible, no longer a mortal entity but a being of the immortal ranks, able to traverse the heavens, stir the seas, and withstand any force known to man.

And the Drought Demon needs little explanation—a supreme being among zombies, whose arrival scorches a thousand miles, subduable only by a Golden Immortal.

…

Luckily, those before Li Yunfei—emerging from the split graves—were merely Black Zombies. Troublesome, but manageable. But even this was not the end; after the zombies leapt forth, the very ground of the graveyard seemed to boil.

As dirt flew, a multitude of hands—some rotting, others mere bone—broke through the earth, gripping the ground and slowly raising their bodies. These were skeletons and decayed corpses, numbering over three hundred.

Li Yunfei gulped, his gaze sweeping across the graveyard. Altogether, there were about sixty zombies, over a hundred skeletons, more than one hundred eighty walking corpses, roughly twelve hundred fierce spirits, and about one hundred fifty vengeful wraiths.

This was nothing short of a reinforced regiment of ghostly troops.

Was the system really pulling out all the stops for a mere level 31 scenario?

Only now did he realize that his supposedly foolproof preparations might not be so foolproof after all.

The little fox instinctively edged closer to Li Yunfei. Though she didn’t believe these ghosts posed any real threat to her, the sight was enough to unsettle anyone.

The ghostly horde cared nothing for Li Yunfei’s thoughts. Controlled by the system, they lacked all reason or intelligence. Their sole purpose was to tear apart the two living beings—Li Yunfei and the little fox.

Without hesitation, they surged toward the altar in relentless waves.

The fastest were, of course, the fierce spirits and vengeful wraiths, floating a meter above the ground and advancing like a tidal wave. Behind them were the zombies, unable to fly but leaping more than a yard at a time, moving at a considerable pace. The skeletons followed, striding forward at speeds akin to the living, green flames of soul fire burning in their eye sockets, jaws clacking with a continual “clack-clack” sound. The slowest were the walking corpses, their movements stiff and mechanical, bringing up the rear.

Li Yunfei patted the little fox’s head at his side, not sure if he meant to comfort her or himself, and said, “Don’t be afraid, Honghong. Your master is a premium player—if nothing else, I’ll bury them in talismans until they’re dead.”

“Yip… (Then what are you waiting for, master?)”

“All right, just watch me.”