# 242
Chapter 242: Your Take-out
Northern Great Xia.
Snow capped the endless mountain ranges. A few birds were startled out of the white forest, flapping toward the sky.
Suddenly, a patch of black began to spread across the distant heavens.
In a nearby town, an old man dozing at home caught sight of the sky, jolted upright, and rubbed his eyes.
“Old woman! Old woman! Look at the sky—how can half be day and half be night?”
“Foolish old man, talking nonsense in broad daylight!” his wife scolded from the kitchen.
The old man stared at the distant sky, muttering, “Damn… seeing ghosts in daylight!”
…
Beneath the black sky.
The birds were swallowed by the darkness; their bodies shuddered, then dropped stiffly to the ground, lifeless, as if an invisible hand of death had brushed them away.
Seconds later the dead birds twitched, stood up, and flapped back into the black heavens exactly as before.
The darkness crawled on.
In the wilds, scattered hillside graveyards were enveloped. In the dead hush came rustling, eerie noises.
Bang—!
A clod of earth burst open; a heavy coffin lid flew meters away. A long-dead skeleton sat up, climbed out, hollow eye sockets igniting with weird black flame.
Bang-bang-bang-bang—!!
More sounds followed; every corpse in the cemetery reanimated, turned its stiff neck, and trudged toward the distant city, following the dark tide.
Within this darkness, life and death had lost all meaning.
Silently, the black crept toward the city, the reek of death thickening in the air…
Until it met the man.
On the white snow sat a middle-aged figure in a plain dark-red cloak, about forty. Beside him, a regulation Star-forged Blade stood upright in the snow.
He glanced at the approaching darkness, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, parked it between his lips, and lit it unhurriedly.
The instant the flame sparked, a blinding Buddhist radiance erupted around him like surging golden waves, slamming into the darkness ahead; faint Sanskrit chants drifted in the air.
The darkness was stopped dead in front of him.
The man sighed, rose slowly, drew the Star-forged Blade, and spoke to the distant gloom:
“Allow me to introduce myself—Ye Fan, Supreme Commander of the Great Xia Night Watch.”
On the horizon a silhouette formed within the darkness, drifting forward like a soft breeze until it hovered before Ye Fan.
The moment it appeared, woods for ten li withered; the white snow looked ink-stained; dense death-qi flooded heaven and earth.
“Venerable Ye Fan,” the insubstantial figure said. “I know you. In the divine war ten years ago, Gaia shattered your body. I hadn’t expected you to live.”
“Without destruction, no rebirth—survival was simply my fate,” Ye Fan answered calmly. “As for you lot… I’m surprised that after ten years you still hanker after the Śiva’s Grudge.”
“That thing is too dangerous; only Olympus is qualified to keep it.”
“Heh…” Ye Fan chuckled. “True—after the Fog fell, only you Greek gods remained mostly intact. Let me guess: besides sacrificing your entire populace, how many of your own kin did you slaughter?
Thanatos, Hypnos, Hemera… Nyx’s offspring, nearly wiped out by you, and she one of the five primordial gods of Greece.”
As if recalling something, Ye Fan smiled. “Oh, right—perhaps you haven’t heard: half a year ago Nyx appeared in Great Xia. When she fully returns, I wonder if Gaia alone can withstand her wrath?”
The shadow visibly shuddered; though faceless, its shock was plain.
“Impossible—that woman is dead!”
“You are the illustrious Lord of the Dead, Hades; no one understands death better than you…” Ye Fan said slowly. “But within this Fog, nothing is impossible.”
The death-qi around Hades thickened; his gaze fixed on Ye Fan, and the pressure of the Underworld’s king crashed down.
“Hand over Śiva’s Grudge, or I will turn this nation into dead soil of my realm!” Hades’ voice echoed from the abyss, cold and terrible. “This time, you won’t be as lucky as ten years ago…”
“Really?” Ye Fan’s brow lifted slightly. “You, it seems, are no longer as strong as ten years ago either.”
Hades’ pupils contracted.
“This sudden Fog has knocked you gods from myth to earth; while inside it, you grow weaker. In another century you may be no different from mortals.
I suppose Gaia didn’t come this time so she could hide in Olympus and preserve strength?”
Ye Fan’s lips curled. “Like… a dog clinging to its last breath.”
Boom—!!
Turbulent Underworld death-qi slammed against Ye Fan, gnawing at the Buddhist light encircling him. Hades raised his chin, eyes narrowed, and spoke coldly:
“Foolish mortal, I will teach you—gods are forever gods!”
…
Twenty kilometers from Cangnan City.
On a desolate highway a Maybach howled past.
In the driver’s seat a skinny young man had the window down, left arm draped on the door, fingers drumming to the music—utterly carefree.
Just then a figure in a yellow uniform pulled up beside him on an e-scooter, keeping pace.
On the back of the jacket, four big characters flashed:
—Mi-Tuan Take-out.
The dashing youth blinked, glanced at his speedometer, then at the delivery rider, bewildered.
He was doing 130 kph—what e-bike could manage that?
While he stared, the rider, steering one-handed, rummaged in the rear box with the other, pulled out a pizza box, and offered it.
“Hello, your take-out.”
The young man shook his head. “You crazy? I didn’t order food.”
The rider raised an eyebrow. “God Serial 018, Trickster God Loki, right? This is your take-out.”
Beep!
The pizza box popped open, revealing a neat row of explosives glowing an eerie blue.
The young man’s expression froze solid!