Dead silence.

Limbo trembled as a result of the Harken’s infuriated roar. The netherflames around quivered in fear, while Arthis shut her eyes in awe as her hair fluttered wildly.

She knew this. She had known this all along.

Qin Ye’s attitude wasn’t right. Despite being the King Yanluo of Hell, he would be absent from Hell for protracted periods of time. And even when he was around, he would be approving documents in the wee hours of the night when none of the other Emissaries of Hell were working. Hell couldn’t possibly force all of their civil servants and officials to work around the clock just to match Qin Ye’s schedule. Even though Yin spirits didn’t physically need sleep, they would still grow tired and weary.

There were even a significant number of proposals that weren’t able to be passed in a timeous fashion to deal with issues expediently. Delay begets lukewarmness. The hearts that were filled with passion would quickly grow cold and unmotivated. Besides, how much larger was Ashmound as compared to the old Hell? Could he really address everything that needed his attention with just six hours a night?

And even if he could, then what about the next steps? Could he really chart a course for Hell’s growth without proper discourse with his ministerial team? Is he really that naive to think that everything could be addressed in a single...