Chapter 7: Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7: The Warden's Offer

The black light from the staff didn't just push her back. It pulled her out of the corpse entirely.

Lin Xia's body crumpled to the concrete floor, empty. Her soul hovered above it, translucent and furious, thrashing against the chains of light that wrapped around her from the staff.

"You idiot!" she screamed. "You just threw away your only chance at the truth!"

Jiang Chen's head pounded. The memories she'd shown him—the cold table, the witnesses, the judge's paid-off smile—kept replaying. Three weeks. He'd been dead three weeks, and he'd accepted it. Made peace with it. Moved on.

And now he couldn't stop shaking.

"I'll find the truth myself," he said. "Without making deals with a murderer."

"You're a dead man walking." Her chains tightened. "You have no power. No connections. No way to investigate your own death. The people who killed you are still alive. Still rich. Still free. And you're stuck in Diyu's bureaucracy, chasing escaped souls for a paycheck."

The words hit harder than they should have.

The Gatekeeper's voice interrupted them: *Soul secured. Returning to Diyu.*

The warehouse walls dissolved. The chain-link fence, the old machinery, the moonlight—all of it faded into gray mist. Jiang Chen felt the familiar pull, the sensation of being dragged through a space that wasn't quite space, time that wasn't quite time.

Lin Xia's soul floated beside him, still struggling, still screaming.

"You'll never find them without me! You don't even know where to start!"

He ignored her.

The mist cleared. They stood in Diyu's main processing hall—a cavernous chamber carved from black stone, lit by lanterns that burned with green fire. Thousands of filing cabinets lined the walls, stretching up into darkness. Desks floated in the air, stacked with paperwork that shuffled itself.

Judge Wu stood at the center, waiting. His black robe absorbed the green light, making him look like a hole in reality.

"Apprentice Jiang Chen," he said. "You've returned."

"With the target." Jiang Chen gestured at Lin Xia's bound soul. "She killed two soul reapers. Possessed a living woman for six months. Conned seventeen families."

Judge Wu nodded slowly. "The records will be updated. Her judgment will be processed." He turned to Lin Xia. "You stand accused of soul theft, identity theft, murder, interference with Diyu operations, and unauthorized extension of mortal lifespan. How do you plead?"

"Guilty," she said, smiling. "But I have information. Valuable information. About a conspiracy that reaches into your own halls."

Judge Wu's expression didn't change. "Everyone claims to have information. It rarely proves useful."

"Jiang Chen's execution was illegal. Framed. The evidence was fabricated. The judge was paid. I can prove it."

The silence stretched.

Judge Wu looked at Jiang Chen—really looked at him—for the first time since the apprenticeship began. "Is this true?"

"I don't know." Jiang Chen's voice came out flat. "She showed me memories. My execution. The witnesses. But she's a con woman. She could have fabricated everything."

"Or I could be telling the truth." Lin Xia's chains rattled as she leaned forward. "You have access to Diyu's records. Pull Jiang Chen's case file. Check the evidence logs. Check the judge's financial records. You'll find irregularities. You'll find proof."

Judge Wu raised his hand. A floating desk descended, covered in scrolls. He pulled one, unrolled it, scanned it.

"Jiang Chen. Convicted of murder of one Zhang Wei. Executed three weeks ago. Case file number 4492-B."

"That's the one."

Judge Wu read silently. His face revealed nothing.

Then he rolled the scroll back up.

"The case appears proper on paper."

"Because you're not looking for the right things," Lin Xia said. "Check the evidence chain. Check who handled the DNA samples. Check who paid the judge's mortgage."

Judge Wu's eyes narrowed. "How would you know about the judge's mortgage?"

"I possess people. I see everything. Bank accounts, email passwords, mistress's addresses, secret stashes of evidence they thought they burned." She laughed. "Judge Chen of the Third People's Court has been taking bribes for fifteen years. He's very careful. But not careful enough."

Judge Chen.

Jiang Chen had never known the judge's name. He'd been too dazed during the trial, too broken to care. But hearing it now—Chen, same surname as him, same family name—sent a chill down his spine.

"Even if this is true," Judge Wu said slowly, "we cannot act on the word of a condemned soul. The mortal realm's laws are not our concern unless they affect Diyu's operations."

"The execution was illegal," Lin Xia pressed. "That means his soul was taken before its time. That's a violation of the natural order. That's Diyu's concern."

Judge Wu was silent for a long moment.

Then he turned to Jiang Chen. "Apprentice. What do you want?"

The question caught him off guard.

What did he want?

Revenge? Justice? Answers?

"I want to know the truth," he said.

"Even if the truth is painful?"

"It's already painful. I just want to know why."

Judge Wu nodded. "Then we will investigate. But it will take time. Diyu moves slowly when dealing with the mortal realm."

"I don't have time. I have three months before I'm judged."

"Then you will have to be patient."

Patience. He'd been patient his whole life. Patient with his boss. Patient with the system. Patient with the slow grind of poverty and desperation that had led him to take that first bribe. Patience had gotten him killed.

"I can't be patient."

Judge Wu's eyes met his. "Then what would you have me do? Send you back to the mortal realm to investigate? You're an apprentice. You don't know how to navigate the living world without drawing attention. You'd be caught, arrested, thrown into an institution. Or worse."

"He wouldn't be alone."

The voice came from behind him. Jiang Chen turned.

Another judge stood at the edge of the processing hall. She was younger than Judge Wu—looked maybe forty, with sharp features and hair pulled back so tight it stretched her skin. Her robe was red instead of black, decorated with gold thread that formed characters he couldn't read.

"Judge Xu," Judge Wu said. "This is not your case."

"It becomes my case when it involves the mortal realm." Judge Xu stepped forward, her heels clicking against the stone. "I handle cross-realm investigations. You handle processing. This falls under my jurisdiction."

"You can't just—"

"I just did." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Apprentice Jiang Chen. I've reviewed your file. You were executed for a crime you didn't commit. That makes you unique among soul reapers—you have a foot in both worlds. A reason to care about the living realm. A personal stake."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm offering you a chance to investigate your own death. Officially. As part of a cross-realm operation."

Jiang Chen's heart—did he still have a heart?—raced. "What's the catch?"

"Catch?"

"There's always a catch."

Judge Xu's smile widened. "You're smarter than you look. The catch is: you have three weeks. If you can't find proof of the conspiracy in three weeks, you return to Diyu and accept your judgment without protest. No appeals. No extensions. You accept whatever sentence the judges give you."

"And if I find proof?"

"Then your sentence will be reviewed. You may be granted a second life. Or you may be allowed to continue as a soul reaper with full status. Or you may be given something else entirely." She shrugged. "It depends on what you find."

"Three weeks isn't enough."

"It's all you get."

Lin Xia laughed from her chains. "He'll need help. Someone who knows how the mortal realm works. Someone who can navigate the underworld—the criminal underworld, not this one."

"Are you volunteering?" Judge Xu asked.

"I'm already going to be judged. I have nothing to lose. Let me help him. I know the players. I know the system. I can guide him."

"She killed two soul reapers," Jiang Chen said.

"She did. But she's also the best asset you have." Judge Xu studied Lin Xia's soul. "You'll be bound to him. A leash. If you try to escape or harm him, the leash tightens. It will feel like your soul is being shredded from the inside. You won't try it twice."

"Agreed," Lin Xia said.

"Wait," Jiang Chen said. "I don't want—"

"It's not about what you want." Judge Xu's voice hardened. "It's about what you need. You need information. She has it. You need a guide. She's it. You need someone who can spot a con from a mile away. She's the best con artist we've processed in decades."

"That's not a compliment."

"It's not an insult either."

Judge Xu raised her hand. A collar of red light formed around Lin Xia's neck, connected to Jiang Chen's wrist by a thin chain.

"You're bound," she said. "Three weeks. Starting now. I'll open a portal to the mortal realm. You'll emerge in the city where you were executed. From there, you're on your own."

The chains around Lin Xia dissolved, replaced by the collar. She stretched, rolling her shoulders, getting used to her spectral form.

"First stop," she said. "The judge's house. He keeps records in his basement. Old-fashioned paper records. Thinks computers can be hacked."

"Second stop?"

"We find out who paid him. And then we find out who wanted you dead badly enough to pay for it."

The portal opened behind her—a swirling vortex of gray and black, crackling with energy.

Jiang Chen looked at Judge Wu. The old judge's face was unreadable.

"Be careful, apprentice," he said. "The truth isn't always what you want it to be."

"I know."

He stepped toward the portal, the chain tugging at his wrist, Lin Xia's soul floating beside him.

"One more thing," Judge Xu called.

He turned.

"Your body. The one they buried. It's still in the morgue. They haven't released it yet—supposedly a paperwork error." Her eyes glinted. "But we both know it's not an error. Someone's been delaying your burial. Someone who knew you might come back."

"Who?"

She shrugged. "That's what you have three weeks to find out."

Jiang Chen stepped into the portal.

The world dissolved into static and screaming wind.

And then he was standing in a parking lot, rain pouring down, the neon lights of the city reflecting off wet asphalt. The morgue loomed in front of him, its windows dark, its doors locked.

Beside him, Lin Xia's soul flickered in the rain.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," she said. "Well. Sort of."

The morgue door opened.

A man stepped out. He was wearing a janitor's uniform, carrying a mop bucket. He saw Jiang Chen and froze.

"You're dead," he whispered. "I watched them wheel you in."

Jiang Chen recognized him. The janitor had been there the night of his execution. Had mopped the floor after they took his body away.

"Who paid you to delay my burial?" Jiang Chen asked.

The janitor's face went white.

"I don't know what