Chapter 421
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Chapter 421: Four-Phase Puppet, Meow Language
In a harbor in the South Sea, a port rented by the Four Seas Group bustled with activity. Goods passed through customs before being loaded onto trains destined for the Ming Country’s intricate rail network.
The weather was pleasant—clear skies and a gentle sea breeze made for an efficient workday. Waves lapped against the steel hulls of docked ships, their rhythmic sway a backdrop to the harbor’s hum of activity.
In a quiet corner of the port, a group of dockworkers unloaded a colossal container.
“Wasn’t someone supposed to pick this up?”
“Yeah, but it’s been hours—still no sign of them.”
“Why don’t we open it? We’ve got other shipments to move.”
With that, the workers pried the container open. Inside, they found a heavy, intricately designed coffin. It looked like it had been salvaged from the depths, its surface scarred and weathered.
The dockworkers speculated. Maybe it was someone’s remains, sent home from a foreign land for burial. They reasoned that the family might be waiting to honor the deceased with a feast. Still, no one dared disturb it further.
By dusk, the bustling port remained alive with activity, yet the coffin sat untouched. The two remaining workers, tasked with guarding it, lounged idly.
“Think someone’s coming for it at three in the morning?”
“Maybe it’s bad luck to move a coffin during the day. They’re waiting for an auspicious hour.”
Their banter was cut short by a sudden change in weather. Thunderclouds loomed overhead, and an ominous wind swept through the port. Workers glanced skyward, muttering curses about the impending storm.
One worker moved to fetch a tarp for the coffin. Before he could take more than a few steps, a sharp scream stopped him in his tracks.
“The coffin moved!” his partner stammered, pointing with a trembling hand.
The worker turned, dismissing the claim—until the coffin shuddered again, loud enough to echo through the harbor.
As lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the scene, the coffin’s lid burst open with a deafening bang. A rivet flew out, clattering against the pavement before rolling into the sea.
A figure emerged, sitting upright within the coffin. Wrapped in bubble wrap and plastic, their glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness.
The two workers froze, fear rooting them to the spot. The figure rose, its movements deliberate and unearthly. As the sea breeze tore away the protective layers, a bronze mask was revealed. It fit so tightly that one might wonder if breathing was even necessary—though there was no sign of breath or life in its chest.
The masked figure surveyed the workers before speaking in a voice as grating as rusted metal.
“Have mercy!” one worker cried, collapsing to his knees.
“I don’t want to die!” the other quickly followed suit, bowing his head to the ground.
The figure coughed, the sound mechanical, before breaking into a bizarre melody of “Ah↑ Ah→ Ah↗ Ah↘.” Satisfied with the tune, he addressed them:
“No need for that. I’m not a monster; I’m from the Ming Country.”
The workers exchanged uneasy glances.
“Are you…alive?” one asked hesitantly.
“You’re not a zombie, are you?”
The figure shook his head. “I was simply resting—this method brought me here safely.”
“You put yourself in a coffin?”
“It’s called turtle-breathing technique.”
The other worker blurted out, “You smuggled yourself here?! I can’t believe it!”
Smack! His companion slapped him across the head.
“Don’t mind him,” the apologetic worker said.
The masked man ignored them, asking, “Do you have a map?”
“You can find one in the town nearby,” the worker replied cautiously.
With a curt nod, the man clasped his hands in thanks. “If the Southern Sea Dragon Palace inquires, tell them the goods have been delivered.”
As he departed, the workers stared after him.
“Should we report this?” one asked.
“And risk angering the Southern Sea Dragon Palace? Are you insane?!”
Meanwhile, the man—Bai Wei—walked away, relieved to hear the local dialect. This confirmed he had arrived in the Ming Country.
The body Bai Wei inhabited was not his own. It was a Four-Phase Puppet, an ancient artifact of unknown origin. Functioning like a remote-controlled automaton, it allowed him to act without constraint.
His journey was far from over. The Ten Thousand Demon Kingdom lay ahead, and crossing the Ming Country on foot would take time.
Bai Wei retrieved a ring and attempted to summon Demon Cat Yumeko. This time, the underworld answered.
A gray cloud materialized, drifting toward a calico cat strolling nearby. The feline entered a trance before leaping onto a railing.
“You’re quick,” Yumeko purred, licking its paw. “Back in the Ming Country already? Meow~”
Bai Wei grabbed the scruff of the cat’s neck. “Were you plotting against me?”
Yumeko tilted its head. “Why summon me if that’s what you think?”
“Don’t play dumb. You orchestrated the soul swap between Simozi and Guan Ling, didn’t you?”
The cat chuckled. “I admit it was intentional, but you did save many lives because of it. Doesn’t that count for something? Meow~”
Bai Wei sneered. “Grand words. Do you think I’m willing to be your pawn?”
Yumeko squirmed free, landing gracefully. “Fine. How can I help you this time?”
“Undo the soul swap.”
The cat blinked, surprised. “You haven’t undone it yet? Didn’t you notice the backdoor I left?”
“What backdoor?”
“A kiss,” Yumeko replied matter-of-factly.
Bai Wei’s expression froze. “What kind of kiss?”
“Lips, of course,” the cat said, feigning innocence.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
