Even though countless layers of time and space separated them, Henry Johnson could still see.

In the sky, only terrifying war spears howled, piercing the blood moon in the heavens, and blood-red war swords swept through the air. Each sword light slashed across, causing the world to collapse, cracks appearing everywhere, revealing the endless, chaotic mist beyond.

Clearly, this was a battle between two terrifying beings!

Henry Johnson did not hesitate. He grabbed the purple blood and swallowed it, gripped the golden scroll in his hand, and turned to walk toward the dazzling, multicolored Six Bridges of Reincarnation in the distance.

If the sky falls, there will be someone taller to hold it up. What he needed to do was to reincarnate properly; everything else had nothing to do with him.

At the Bridge of Reincarnation, there were six forks, each glowing with a different light, determining the status of one’s next life. However, at this moment, the Six Bridges of Reincarnation had already been damaged.

“The Gold Bridge and Silver Bridge are destroyed, but the other bridges are still intact.” Without the slightest hesitation, Henry Johnson walked directly across the best remaining bridge—the Jade Bridge.

He didn’t want to delay. After all, the Bridge of Reincarnation at Wangxiang Terrace was a vital place in the underworld. Martha had been slain, and soon the powerful ones from the royal palace would arrive. By then, that senior might not intervene again.

Stepping lightly across, waves of radiance surged, and endless jade mist enveloped him, making him vanish into the darkness of the underworld.

……

At the summit of the dome, above the blood moon.

A figure in fluttering blue robes, a blood-red longsword glowing with restrained brilliance, stood atop an endless, mighty sea of blood, shaking the vastness of time and space, overlooking the world below. Seeing the flickering, misty jade lights, a faint smile appeared.

As if talking to himself: “Little one, I reversed the river of time to help your soul return to that year. I only hope you won’t forget these ninety thousand years.”

“Crash! Crash!” The waves of the sea surged violently.

“Charles Scott, what exactly are you trying to do!” A towering figure broke through the endless waves, his voice echoing through the underworld and across the vastness of time and space.

“Of course, to kill—to turn the world upside down with killing!” The blue-robed figure laughed heartily, waving his hand to unleash a blood sword that shattered endless time and space.

Chapter 3: In This Life, Once Again for Henry Johnson

Mist filled his vision, chaotic and hazy.

“What is this?” Henry Johnson suddenly opened his eyes, feeling as if everything around him was like water vapor, impossible to see clearly. Yet, the real sensation made his heart tremble slightly.

A physical body—he had a physical body again.

Though he had spent ninety thousand years in hell, suffering the torment of the millstone every day and experiencing the pain of bodily destruction, the body formed by spiritual power could never compare to his real, physical body.

“It’s truly reincarnation!” Henry Johnson was certain in his heart.

The moment he entered reincarnation, his soul seemed to have already descended here.

The mysterious power of reincarnation in this world was truly unfathomable.

“After drinking Martha’s soup, by rights, all past karma should be severed, and my memories should be blocked. So why can I still remember my previous life?” Henry Johnson felt a chill in his heart. “Could it be the owner of that purple blood set something up?”

“Forget it. Whatever tricks there are, so what? No matter how bad things get, could it be worse than my previous life?” Henry Johnson shook his head, pushing the thought aside.

“I wonder how long it will be before I’m truly born!” Henry Johnson pondered.

He was now in his mother’s womb, his body not yet fully developed, his sea of consciousness unstable. With his current soul power, he couldn’t even extend his spiritual sense, let alone control his body.

After reincarnation, his once powerful soul was now reduced to only a faint glimmer of spiritual light.

“No form, no image—is this the primordial state of the soul?” Henry Johnson’s thoughts surged. In his sea of consciousness, he observed with his ‘heart’ that his soul, which had nearly condensed into a Yin Spirit, had once again dispersed.

“In the legends of the underworld, the primordial state is the innate state of man. If one can gather their thoughts, it lays the holy foundation of the soul, preparing for the path of sainthood in the future.”

The underworld was a world of soul cultivation. Ghosts had no physical bodies and were cut off from martial arts. Having spent a hundred years in the underworld, Henry Johnson naturally understood the methods of soul cultivation.

“No matter whether the legend of the primordial state is true or not, in my current state, it seems that only by condensing my soul can I pass the time.” Henry Johnson couldn’t help but smile. After being trapped for ninety thousand years, when had he ever not walked the edge of life and death? When had he ever had such leisure?

“Condense the soul, visualize!”

In his sea of consciousness, a soul cultivation method appeared—“Visualization Method of Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva.”

Serving as a ghost soldier for a hundred years, even if he only guarded the Black Stone Bridge, Henry Johnson had obtained this widely circulated soul cultivation method in the underworld. In terms of quality, it was just an ordinary technique.

“Having been passed down for endless ages, at least it’s safe enough.” Henry Johnson smiled lightly.

Some powerful techniques, though effective, were often only suitable for specific people. Techniques that were truly widespread among the masses had to be safe above all.

After all, he was now just an infant. His brain was not fully developed, his sea of consciousness not fully expanded—safety was the most important thing.

“This is just an ordinary visualization method, but in those ninety thousand years, it was my scripture of faith!” Henry Johnson closed his eyes.

If he hadn’t persisted in cultivating this method for ninety thousand years, perhaps his soul would have long since perished.

“Buzz!”