NPCs are meant to challenge players.

He had been a wandering ghost for nearly a hundred years, yet thanks to this wretched condition for harming others, he still hadn’t tasted a single breath of living essence. As a result, he couldn’t even manage to turn himself into a vengeful spirit, no matter how much he wanted to embrace the darkness.

After all, the transformation from a wandering ghost to a vengeful spirit required the consumption of living essence. This essence was the only true catalyst for a ghost’s malice, and when a wandering ghost’s emotions were provoked beyond control, it was also the essential trigger for their descent into vengeful wrath.

Without ever having consumed living essence, all he could do was wait for the day some stubborn fool happened to trigger his conditions for harm—or hope to scavenge a leftover wisp of living essence from what another ghost had abandoned, or perhaps stumble upon some accidentally remaining trace.

But the odds of acquiring a scrap of living essence another ghost had left behind, or finding some by chance, were so slim it was like winning the grand lottery.

Living essence was simply too important to ghosts. For a vengeful spirit, it was the only way to stave off dissipation; without it, their soul would begin to fade, and after roughly three days, they would be scattered to nothing. Though wandering ghosts didn’t face such existential peril, consuming living essence was their only path to greater strength.

Furthermore, not just anyone possessed “living essence.” Only those who could see ghosts carried it within them; those blind to the supernatural had none. Killing such a person would be a wasted effort for a ghost—perhaps even invite new enemies.

In a sense, this “living essence” could be seen as a kind of innate talent. Yet it wasn’t strictly hereditary; sometimes, through accident or fate, it could manifest later in life. Even so, those who possessed this gift were exceedingly rare. As a result, ghosts had developed a fiercely possessive attitude toward their meals, hoarding every scrap.

To a ghost, being forced to share even a morsel of living essence with another was akin to a man being cuckolded. No ghost could bear it!

The bleeding ghost finally steeled himself to act. After all, people with living essence were so scarce that in all these decades, he had only encountered a handful. And this time, his condition for harming had even been triggered.

“Heaven’s gift, if not accepted, becomes a curse upon the recipient!”

The bleeding ghost unleashed all his malice. But instantly, that malice recoiled, and under the overwhelming terror and pressure, he collapsed to the ground.

Thanks to the extra eye atop his head, he saw it clearly: beside Chen Sheng stood a gallows, as if summoned straight from the depths of hell.

“An execution device—a... an execution device!” The bleeding ghost was stricken with utter terror.

And in Chen Sheng’s eyes, it wasn’t just this ghost who was groveling; every ghost that had crowded around to watch earlier was now on their knees, trembling in abject fear.

Among them, Chen Sheng spotted a familiar shadow—a headless girl, crouching with her arms over her head, clutching a fifty-coin banknote.

“No wonder her voice sounded oddly familiar. It really is that money-grubbing one…,” Chen Sheng muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching. He remembered this “ghost NPC” all too well. Even if he never played this healing game again, he would never forget this uniquely spirited “intelligent NPC.”

Of course, Chen Sheng doubted he’d quit the game anytime in the next ten years; and if he really did play that long, there’d be no quitting at all. That would be nostalgia made manifest.

There were so many things in the world marketed on nostalgia. Even knowing it was a money-grab, people still fell for it. In the end, it all came down to those memories—because everywhere you looked, there was something to remember.

“Hey, brother, tell me more about these first, second, and third tiers!” Chen Sheng crouched down, smiling amiably at the bleeding ghost.

With NPCs, Chen Sheng never got angry—not even if an NPC tried to kill him. After all, it was only natural for an NPC to kill a player. If NPCs didn’t do that, what else were they there for?

“That tier system was created by the living to categorize ghosts. We found it useful, so we adopted it ourselves. But it’s only been used for the past few decades,” the bleeding ghost replied hastily. “The ‘Misfortune’ tier is the lowest, ‘Bloodshed’ is intermediate, and ‘Calamity’ is the highest. It applies to all ghosts, whether wandering or vengeful, though vengeful spirits are usually stronger than wandering ghosts…”

“Vengeful spirits are stronger than wandering ghosts?”

“Yes. Generally, a vengeful spirit at the Bloodshed tier is about as powerful as a wandering ghost at the Calamity tier. But this isn’t just about combat power—sometimes, there are things that only a Calamity-level wandering ghost can perceive, but a Bloodshed-level vengeful spirit can see them too.” The bleeding ghost, unsure why this living man seemed so clueless, nevertheless spilled everything he knew like beans from a jar.

“Thank you,” Chen Sheng said politely, and then, with his treasured execution device, promptly dispatched the “Bleeding Ghost NPC.”

Not getting angry was one thing—dealing with enemies was another.

Afterward, Chen Sheng put away his treasure. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to him: the “beginner’s gear” returned to his “inventory.” But in the eyes of Bloodshed-level vengeful spirits or Calamity-level wandering ghosts, that gallows never left his side, floating behind him, exuding an invisible, mysterious power, shielding Chen Sheng completely.

Such was the mark of one who wielded an execution device. Unless a rival also held such a weapon, no ghost dared make a move.

But once Chen Sheng “put it away,” the device suppressed its polluting aura, and in an instant, the kneeling ghosts all scattered, leaving only Qian Shaoshao, frozen in place.

“Where’s the ghost coins?” Chen Sheng asked as he approached.

Qian Shaoshao, upon seeing him, lit up with delight. But as soon as Chen Sheng spoke, her smile vanished and she clutched her chest protectively.

A moment later, the headless girl pitifully produced a handful of ghost coins from her bosom.

Chen Sheng hadn’t expected her to hide them there—was this perhaps a hidden perk the game’s developers had given players?

Suppressing his amusement, he glanced at her and said, “I just wanted to take a look. I’ve been to the Netherworld several times and never seen ghost coins before. Just give me one.”