Chapter 20: The Witness in the Walls
~1.4k words · 2026-06-22
The black light consumed her scream.
Jiang Chen felt his staff pulse with cold fire, felt the con woman's soul unraveling from his mind like silk threads pulled from skin. She was strong—stronger than any soul he'd faced—but the staff was older than her, older than Diyu itself, and it did not tolerate invasion.
She collapsed to her knees, gasping. Her stolen body shimmered, the edges of her form flickering between solid and spectral. The little girl's face twisted, contorted, became a mask of raw fury.
"You broke our deal," she spat.
"You tried to possess me."
"I *am* a possession artist. It's what I do."
Jiang Chen kept the staff pointed at her throat. His head throbbed where she'd dug into his memories. She'd seen his execution. She'd seen the needle. The witnesses. The cold table. And she'd seen something else—something he'd buried so deep he'd almost forgotten it himself.
The face of a man in the observation room.
A man he hadn't recognized at the time.
A man who'd smiled.
"You saw who was there," Jiang Chen said. It wasn't a question.
"Of course I did. I saw everything." She rubbed her temples. The little girl's hands looked too small for the gesture. "I saw the judge take the envelope. I saw the prosecutor read the fabricated evidence. I saw the witnesses lie under oath. And I saw the man who paid for all of it."
"Who?"
"You're not ready."
"I'll decide that."
"No." She looked up at him, and for the first time, there was no mockery in her eyes. Only something that looked almost like pity. "You're not ready because you'll do something stupid. You'll go after him directly. You'll get yourself killed—permanently. And then where will I be?"
"Still in Diyu."
"Charming." She stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from her stolen clothes. "I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm asking you to be smart. Take me to the judges. Let me tell them what I know. They'll investigate your case. They'll find the truth."
"And if they don't?"
"Then you'll have a very angry, very resourceful con woman on your side. Trust me—I'm more useful as an ally than an enemy."
Jiang Chen stared at her. The staff trembled in his grip. Every instinct told him to end this now, to drag her soul back to Diyu and let the judges sort it out. But her words gnawed at him like rats in the walls.
Someone had killed him.
Someone had paid to have him executed.
And that someone was still walking free.
"One wrong move," he said, "and I'll send you straight to the 18th level. They have a special chamber for soul stealers."
"I'm sure they do." She smiled—the smile of a woman who'd spent seventeen years smiling her way out of worse situations. "Now then. How do we get to Diyu from here?"
---
The journey took them through the veils between worlds.
Jiang Chen had only made the crossing twice before—once when he died, once when he was sent back as a reaper. Both times, he'd been guided by judges or senior reapers. This time, he was alone with a soul stealer and a staff that hummed with ancient power.
The veils were not kind to the living.
They shimmered like heat haze over a summer road, distorting space and time. The air grew thick, heavy, saturated with the weight of a billion souls pressing against the membrane between worlds. Shadows moved in the corners of his vision—lost spirits, trapped souls, things that had no names and wanted none.
"Stay close," Jiang Chen said.
"Where would I go?" the con woman asked. She'd taken the form of a middle-aged man now—someone she'd possessed years ago, perhaps, whose shape she'd memorized. "I don't know the way."
"Then shut up and follow."
The path twisted. It coiled and turned back on itself like a snake eating its own tail. Jiang Chen followed the pull of the staff, the ancient connection that bound reapers to Diyu. It was like following a thread through a labyrinth of mirrors.
And then they were there.
Diyu spread before them like a city carved from bone and shadow. Towers rose into a sky that had no sun. Rivers of souls flowed through channels of black stone, their whispers rising like wind through dead leaves. The gates loomed—massive, ancient, covered in inscriptions that predated human civilization.
The guardian at the gate was new.
He stood nine feet tall, his body wrapped in chains that clinked with every breath. His face was a mask of bronze, featureless except for two pinpricks of red light where eyes should be. He held a spear made of crystallized screams.
"Halt," he said. His voice was the sound of metal grinding against metal. "State your purpose."
"I'm a soul reaper," Jiang Chen said. "Returning from a mission."
The guardian's red eyes shifted to the con woman. "And this?"
"A prisoner."
The guardian tilted his head. The chains around his body tightened, then loosened. "I have no record of this retrieval."
"It's recent."
"The records are never late." The guardian stepped closer. His spear hummed. "There is an imbalance in your story."
Jiang Chen's hand tightened on his staff. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." The guardian's mask split open, revealing a mouth filled with rows of needle-thin teeth. "You have been corrupted."
"What?"
"The soul stealer has touched you. She has seen your death. She has planted seeds in your mind." The guardian raised his spear. "You are no longer a reaper of Diyu. You are a liability."
"I'm carrying out my mission—"
"Your mission was to retrieve the soul. You have retrieved her." The guardian's red eyes flared. "Your mission is complete. Hand her over."
Jiang Chen looked at the con woman. She was watching him with an expression he couldn't read—wary, calculating, waiting to see which way he would jump.
The guardian took another step. "Hand her over, and I will let you return to the mortal realm. Your training will continue. Your status will remain intact."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you will be judged as a traitor."
The word hung in the air like smoke. Traitor. It was the same word they'd used at his execution. The same word the judge had spoken before reading the sentence. The same word that had followed him into death.
"Let me talk to Judge Zhao," Jiang Chen said. "She'll confirm my mission."
"Judge Zhao is... unavailable."
"What does that mean?"
"It means she has been recalled for review." The guardian's voice dropped. "Your case has attracted attention, reaper. There are those in the higher courts who believe you were appointed prematurely. There are those who believe you were appointed... irregularly."
A cold hand gripped Jiang Chen's heart. "Irregularly how?"
"The judge who sentenced you to death has been investigated. He was found to have accepted bribes. His cases are being reviewed." The guardian's red eyes fixed on Jiang Chen's face. "Yours was one of them."
The world tilted.
"You knew," the con woman whispered.
"No," Jiang Chen said. "I didn't—"
"You knew your death was a setup. You knew someone paid to have you killed. And you still took the job." She laughed, but it was hollow. "You really are a fool."
"Shut up."
"You're working for the same system that killed you!"
"I said shut up!"
The staff exploded with black light. The con woman staggered back, shielding her eyes. The guardian raised his spear, ready to strike.
But Jiang Chen wasn't aiming at either of them.
He aimed at the gates.
The black light slammed into the ancient inscriptions, cracking the stone. The gates shuddered. Alarms began to wail—deep, resonant bells that echoed through every level of Diyu.
"What are you doing?!" the guardian roared.
"I'm not going back," Jiang Chen said. His voice was steady. Calm. Dead. "I'm not going to let them bury me again. I'm going to find the truth. And I'm going to find the man who killed me."
"You'll never leave Diyu alive—"
"Then I'll leave dead."
He grabbed the con woman's arm and pulled her through the broken gates as the guardian's spear whistled past his ear, missing by inches.
They ran.
Behind them, the bells of Diyu rang out across the underworld, summoning every reaper, every guardian, every judge to hunt them down.
Ahead of them, the darkness stretched into eternity.
And somewhere in the mortal world, a man was still smiling.
Jiang Chen felt his staff pulse with cold fire, felt the con woman's soul unraveling from his mind like silk threads pulled from skin. She was strong—stronger than any soul he'd faced—but the staff was older than her, older than Diyu itself, and it did not tolerate invasion.
She collapsed to her knees, gasping. Her stolen body shimmered, the edges of her form flickering between solid and spectral. The little girl's face twisted, contorted, became a mask of raw fury.
"You broke our deal," she spat.
"You tried to possess me."
"I *am* a possession artist. It's what I do."
Jiang Chen kept the staff pointed at her throat. His head throbbed where she'd dug into his memories. She'd seen his execution. She'd seen the needle. The witnesses. The cold table. And she'd seen something else—something he'd buried so deep he'd almost forgotten it himself.
The face of a man in the observation room.
A man he hadn't recognized at the time.
A man who'd smiled.
"You saw who was there," Jiang Chen said. It wasn't a question.
"Of course I did. I saw everything." She rubbed her temples. The little girl's hands looked too small for the gesture. "I saw the judge take the envelope. I saw the prosecutor read the fabricated evidence. I saw the witnesses lie under oath. And I saw the man who paid for all of it."
"Who?"
"You're not ready."
"I'll decide that."
"No." She looked up at him, and for the first time, there was no mockery in her eyes. Only something that looked almost like pity. "You're not ready because you'll do something stupid. You'll go after him directly. You'll get yourself killed—permanently. And then where will I be?"
"Still in Diyu."
"Charming." She stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from her stolen clothes. "I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm asking you to be smart. Take me to the judges. Let me tell them what I know. They'll investigate your case. They'll find the truth."
"And if they don't?"
"Then you'll have a very angry, very resourceful con woman on your side. Trust me—I'm more useful as an ally than an enemy."
Jiang Chen stared at her. The staff trembled in his grip. Every instinct told him to end this now, to drag her soul back to Diyu and let the judges sort it out. But her words gnawed at him like rats in the walls.
Someone had killed him.
Someone had paid to have him executed.
And that someone was still walking free.
"One wrong move," he said, "and I'll send you straight to the 18th level. They have a special chamber for soul stealers."
"I'm sure they do." She smiled—the smile of a woman who'd spent seventeen years smiling her way out of worse situations. "Now then. How do we get to Diyu from here?"
---
The journey took them through the veils between worlds.
Jiang Chen had only made the crossing twice before—once when he died, once when he was sent back as a reaper. Both times, he'd been guided by judges or senior reapers. This time, he was alone with a soul stealer and a staff that hummed with ancient power.
The veils were not kind to the living.
They shimmered like heat haze over a summer road, distorting space and time. The air grew thick, heavy, saturated with the weight of a billion souls pressing against the membrane between worlds. Shadows moved in the corners of his vision—lost spirits, trapped souls, things that had no names and wanted none.
"Stay close," Jiang Chen said.
"Where would I go?" the con woman asked. She'd taken the form of a middle-aged man now—someone she'd possessed years ago, perhaps, whose shape she'd memorized. "I don't know the way."
"Then shut up and follow."
The path twisted. It coiled and turned back on itself like a snake eating its own tail. Jiang Chen followed the pull of the staff, the ancient connection that bound reapers to Diyu. It was like following a thread through a labyrinth of mirrors.
And then they were there.
Diyu spread before them like a city carved from bone and shadow. Towers rose into a sky that had no sun. Rivers of souls flowed through channels of black stone, their whispers rising like wind through dead leaves. The gates loomed—massive, ancient, covered in inscriptions that predated human civilization.
The guardian at the gate was new.
He stood nine feet tall, his body wrapped in chains that clinked with every breath. His face was a mask of bronze, featureless except for two pinpricks of red light where eyes should be. He held a spear made of crystallized screams.
"Halt," he said. His voice was the sound of metal grinding against metal. "State your purpose."
"I'm a soul reaper," Jiang Chen said. "Returning from a mission."
The guardian's red eyes shifted to the con woman. "And this?"
"A prisoner."
The guardian tilted his head. The chains around his body tightened, then loosened. "I have no record of this retrieval."
"It's recent."
"The records are never late." The guardian stepped closer. His spear hummed. "There is an imbalance in your story."
Jiang Chen's hand tightened on his staff. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." The guardian's mask split open, revealing a mouth filled with rows of needle-thin teeth. "You have been corrupted."
"What?"
"The soul stealer has touched you. She has seen your death. She has planted seeds in your mind." The guardian raised his spear. "You are no longer a reaper of Diyu. You are a liability."
"I'm carrying out my mission—"
"Your mission was to retrieve the soul. You have retrieved her." The guardian's red eyes flared. "Your mission is complete. Hand her over."
Jiang Chen looked at the con woman. She was watching him with an expression he couldn't read—wary, calculating, waiting to see which way he would jump.
The guardian took another step. "Hand her over, and I will let you return to the mortal realm. Your training will continue. Your status will remain intact."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you will be judged as a traitor."
The word hung in the air like smoke. Traitor. It was the same word they'd used at his execution. The same word the judge had spoken before reading the sentence. The same word that had followed him into death.
"Let me talk to Judge Zhao," Jiang Chen said. "She'll confirm my mission."
"Judge Zhao is... unavailable."
"What does that mean?"
"It means she has been recalled for review." The guardian's voice dropped. "Your case has attracted attention, reaper. There are those in the higher courts who believe you were appointed prematurely. There are those who believe you were appointed... irregularly."
A cold hand gripped Jiang Chen's heart. "Irregularly how?"
"The judge who sentenced you to death has been investigated. He was found to have accepted bribes. His cases are being reviewed." The guardian's red eyes fixed on Jiang Chen's face. "Yours was one of them."
The world tilted.
"You knew," the con woman whispered.
"No," Jiang Chen said. "I didn't—"
"You knew your death was a setup. You knew someone paid to have you killed. And you still took the job." She laughed, but it was hollow. "You really are a fool."
"Shut up."
"You're working for the same system that killed you!"
"I said shut up!"
The staff exploded with black light. The con woman staggered back, shielding her eyes. The guardian raised his spear, ready to strike.
But Jiang Chen wasn't aiming at either of them.
He aimed at the gates.
The black light slammed into the ancient inscriptions, cracking the stone. The gates shuddered. Alarms began to wail—deep, resonant bells that echoed through every level of Diyu.
"What are you doing?!" the guardian roared.
"I'm not going back," Jiang Chen said. His voice was steady. Calm. Dead. "I'm not going to let them bury me again. I'm going to find the truth. And I'm going to find the man who killed me."
"You'll never leave Diyu alive—"
"Then I'll leave dead."
He grabbed the con woman's arm and pulled her through the broken gates as the guardian's spear whistled past his ear, missing by inches.
They ran.
Behind them, the bells of Diyu rang out across the underworld, summoning every reaper, every guardian, every judge to hunt them down.
Ahead of them, the darkness stretched into eternity.
And somewhere in the mortal world, a man was still smiling.