“I can’t believe you still remember who I am.” Aristotle coughed several times. If not for the fact that the Yin energy pouring out from his body was dense to the extreme, nobody would’ve believed it if he said he was a Yama-King.

Endless Yin energy poured out of the seven apertures on his face, transforming into the likeness of faces filled with various agonized expressions, before returning back to his body once more. He raised his withered head and looked straight at the Harken and Qin Ye, “It wasn’t easy getting an audience with the Emissaries of Hell…”

“Are you really only seeking an audience with Hell?” Qin Ye stroked the Harken with a faint smile on his face, “Or are you attempting to get a better feel of what’s going on in Hell?”

There was no need to beat about the bush.

Clarity of the current status of Hell was something that would shed greater light on the delicate balance of powers in the netherworld. It might even trigger the next great war of the netherworld! In fact, the implications were so great that with every day that passed, the underworlds have all been ceaselessly attempting to peek through the Array of the Nine Gods to get even a glimpse at what was happening in Hell. Unfortunately, their efforts have been in vain thus far.

At least, until today.

“How dare infants butt in when adults are talking?” Aristotle glared at Qin Ye, only to find Qin Ye locking eyes with...