“Is there anyone who’d dare to emulate me?” The gambler yelled.0

“I’ll do it!” An old man with white hair and beard stepped out of the crowd.0

“...” Are these people stupid or suicidal? Wait, can a ghost even die? Hmm…1

By now, Ye Qing had figured out that every single one of these villagers was a yin soul of sorts. The old man walked up to the cooking pot, dug out his eyeballs, and tossed it into the pot. The eyeball turned golden brown and even let out a fragrant scent almost immediately. Knowing he didn’t have much time, the old man tried to fish out his eyeball before it could sink to the bottom. 0

Something worse happened, however: his eyeballs had charred and melted into the oil in just the blink of an eye, never to be found again.0

“My eyeball! My eyeball!” The old man wailed. He saw what had happened, but he refused to believe that his eyeball was gone. He kept fishing inside the pot until his arm had crumbled away as well. Still unwilling to give up, he stuck his left arm into the oil, then his upper torso, then his lower torso. Just like that, the old man was completely gone.0

After that, Ye Qing was treated to a horror show that one could never find in a human society. The man would proceed to challenge his fellow ghosts to scoop their ear, their nose,...0