Cries of agony echoed along the main street at the heart of the Rakshasa Ghost Market, resonating both there and within the hearts of all the Ghosts present.

At that moment, after the Shopkeeper's misdeeds had been exposed, he decided, since he was already caught, to go all out and use the Corpse Poison—an entity not repelled by Yang Energy—to try and kill Wen Yan on the spot.

If the matter could be resolved within the shop and the aftermath dealt with properly, there would be plenty of opportunities to quibble about the narrative later, and it would likely be a lengthy affair. If Wen Yan had backing, then the Shopkeeper would have no choice but to accept his fate. If Wen Yan didn't have any backing, then he might still have a chance to save his own life. But if Wen Yan were to leave through that door, his fate was surely sealed. From his perspective, making this gamble was his only hope for survival, and there was nothing wrong with that.

In such circumstances, if Wen Yan were to crush the Shopkeeper on the spot, no one would say a word.

However, Wen Yan showed deference to Lord Zhu. Since Lord Zhu had a stake and had involved himself in the matter, it was now entirely in Lord Zhu's hands; the respect had been fully given.

Later, when Wen Yan was blocked, he didn't harm the guards, continuing to show utmost respect.

But the actions of those who had blocked Wen Yan, and the things the Shopkeeper had done—these were a slap in Lord Zhu's face.

Upon hearing about the incident, Lord Zhu arrived immediately. He publicly praised Kong Er for handling the situation well, marveling at how the learned are indeed more agile-minded than the average Ghost.

Now, Lord Zhu felt too embarrassed to even make a courtesy call to Wen Yan, let alone promise a proper resolution.

Several of the Holders at the Rakshasa Ghost Market were supposed to take turns managing it, but in reality, some had no desire to waste their energy on such matters.

For the past few years, it had been Lord Zhu suppressing the Rakshasa Ghost Market and maintaining its order.

Having such an incident occur in his own territory, Lord Zhu felt ashamed, having lost all face.

Until he could handle this matter properly, he was too embarrassed to even phone and acknowledge the situation.

The Righteous Store was selling living people, and not just one; the person Wen Yan called Old Xi was a disciple from Fuyu Mountain.

The Flying Zombies of Fuyu Mountain had awoken, and the old masters had personally come down from the mountain. It was clear they were no longer content to remain dormant.

At such a time, the idiot who had so grievously offended Fuyu Mountain would only find straw where his brain should be if one were to mince it up and search; not a trace of intelligence would be found.

Lord Zhu was so furious his teeth itched with rage. Otherwise, his temper had been quite good these past few years; at most, he would curse someone out to blow off steam. When he truly couldn't restrain himself, he would deliver a stinging rebuke.

The Nether Soul from the Royal Guards had been by Lord Zhu's side since awakening, cultivating his own temperament. Lord Zhu had never let him strike. But today, Lord Zhu truly couldn't hold back anymore. He even began to wonder if his good temper over the years had made people forget that he hadn't always been so mild-mannered.

For a full hour, screams reverberated along Central Street of the Rakshasa Ghost Market.

The Royal Guard Brother, thoroughly satisfied, appreciated an advantage of being a Ghost: they weren't so easy to kill—at least, not from excessive blood loss—and he wouldn't accidentally drive his victim insane.

Furthermore, as he had been forced to ingest a precious medicine beforehand, after an hour, the Shopkeeper's body still trembled ceaselessly, yet his ghostly form had paradoxically become even more substantial than before.

After enduring an hour of agony, the Shopkeeper was praying for a swift death. Yet, seeing the smiling, youthful-looking Royal Guard, he didn't dare to speak up, terrified that saying anything might be taken as a confession.

If only he'd known what today would bring, he would have never crossed the line.

Alas, consider those teetering on the brink of death: stuck with one foot in the coffin, unable to fully enter or withdraw, trapped in limbo, begging for life but denied death. It wasn't that such individuals only understood this principle at that moment; rather, it was then that they truly abandoned all hope of a lucky escape.

The Royal Guard Brother stood by, silently observing. Having been part of the Royal Guards and dying as one, even if he hadn't held a high position in life, he certainly had the basic sense to read the room.

His Prince would surely not allow this Righteous Store Shopkeeper to confess publicly on the street.

Here, it was all about establishing authority. Since respect had been shown to his Prince, he would ensure that respect was reciprocated, and incidentally, allow his Prince to vent some anger.

After attending to the Righteous Store Shopkeeper, the Royal Guard Brother continued to stand behind Lord Zhu, waiting patiently.

Lord Zhu looked around, and his mood seemed to calm slightly.

"Don't say I didn't give you a chance," Lord Zhu announced, his voice carrying over the street. "Whoever was involved in this matter, step forward now. If you do, the worst you'll face is a swift end. But if you're found out later, don't blame me for being merciless."

After Lord Zhu finished speaking, he picked up a tea bowl, leaned back in his chair, and signaled to the Royal Guard Brother beside him.

The Royal Guard Brother took a step forward and boomed, "Ten."

Before the Ghosts could fully comprehend, the count continued. "Nine."

"Eight."

As the countdown progressed, the voice carried a festive cheer, almost like welcoming the New Year. Yet, the assembled Ghosts felt a chilling dread, their hearts as if gripped by an iron fist.

By the time the count reached "four," the eagerness and festive tone in the Royal Guard Brother's voice were so palpable that anyone could sense them.

Suddenly, a Ghost stumbled forward from the crowd and fell to his knees with a THUD, trembling uncontrollably, his voice distorted by terror.

"I... I confess."

Thanks to the continuous portrayals in later generations through films, television, books, and other media, the very name "Royal Guards," combined with the brutal torture just witnessed, carried an immense power of deterrence.

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