The subway entrance was hard to find.

Years of neglect had rusted the roll‑up gate; damp air pushed out like a stale sigh, opening on the darkness like an old scroll.

“Illumination!”

Light bloomed in the girl’s palm and spilled forward, a lantern cutting a pale path.

The old drainage had cracked and failed; murky drops fell from the ceiling and tapped the floor, plink‑plink, like beads on stone.

“Watch your step. Don’t slip.”

If they had a choice, the girls wouldn’t crawl in through tunnels to reach the Xinke District.

Winterwood District belonged to Parliament. Xinke District belonged to capital’s teeth.

Twenty years ago, Xinke became an autonomous zone to lure investment. Parliament’s laws didn’t reach it. No police held posts there.

So, to avoid drawing the Welfare Alliance’s eye, the girls chose the underground arteries and slipped into Xinke District.

Not just to learn why Teng Corp’s headquarters exploded… more urgently, to seize Fu Pi and stop the war.

…

“Liuyi, that you?”

Light shimmered at the end of the passage. Luyao and two lackeys stood waiting, patient as pillars.

“Yeah.”

“Everyone ready? We move.”

Luyao nodded and addressed them. On this run, the red‑haired youth was both guide and a blade you could lean on.

“We’re set, just…”

A ripple of worry crossed Yue Liuyi’s heart. She hadn’t told them about the mechanical World Tree.

It lay far deeper than this subway vein, far from where they stood. But Sis Kiki’s warning had left a thorn. The blue‑haired girl asked, just to be safe:

“We’re staying in the subway tunnels, right? We won’t go… any deeper underground?”

“Of course. We’ll stick to the line. And…”

Luyao shook his head with a wry smile. “I don’t even know how to get down there.”

“Then we’ll count on you, Luyao.”

…

Eight of them moved out, following the old rail like a silver vein.

Dreamwood Star had never been rich, but it had been lively.

The torn rails told their own story—how many souls had been ferried here once. Concrete walls on both sides were plastered with chains of sticker ads.

When the train rushed by, the stickers stitched into animation, a silent commercial reel flickering in the dark.

Now, everything lay abandoned. Yue Liuyi peered and could hardly read the words. Every scrap sat quiet, rust spreading like moss.

“Liuyi, stay close.”

“Mm. Got it.”

Dixue and Luyao took point. Teng Ying and Luyao’s two goons held the rear, flashlights slicing the gloom.

In the middle, they shielded precious Yue Liuyi, along with the underpowered Dashi and Yin Mu.

“Um… hey… little sis, is there, uh, any undead down here?”

Yin Mu had come to like her mask. With her face hidden, no one could see the fear leaking through.

“Undead? Huh… what’s that?” Dashi blinked, bewildered.

“You know… the kind that float midair and look half‑transparent!”

“Ah—ghost jellyfish? I saw those in my brother’s book. They live where mana tides surge over seagrass plains. Rare in tunnels…”

“Don’t worry, Yin Mu. Dreamwood Star shouldn’t have ghosts.”

Yue Liuyi had heard their whispering. She turned and spoke, voice a calm lamp.

“Dreamwood Star? So other planets do have ghosts?”

“If you treat fleshless souls as ghosts, the New Land does have them. But rest easy. Dreamwood Star won’t. The magic here can’t birth spirits.”

It was soul‑magic 101.

Spirits, wraiths, and magical sprites only appear on worlds rich in life‑force.

Some powerful souls refuse to fade after death. They survive by drinking the stray life‑force in the air.

Hold to kindness, and you become a heroic spirit, like Alisa. Cling to malice, and you harden into an undead wraith.

In Dragon Heaven, life‑force runs thick. Spirits abound. Daoists and ritual adepts rose as a trade.

On Dreamwood Star, you don’t worry. Life‑force is thin. Spirits can’t draw enough to persist—like fish out of water, after the body dies, the soul returns to the world.

“Really no ghosts?”

“Really. And if one pops up, I’ll purify it.”

She tapped her chest. As a World Tree Maiden, cleansing souls was standard kit.

“Really!? Master, you’re amazing!”

Yin Mu darted behind Yue Liuyi like a startled sparrow.

“Yin Mu, don’t break formation. We’ve got movement ahead.”

“Huh?”

As Yin Mu lunged, something formed at the end of the black tunnel—

A ghostly silhouette.

…

“Patchouli—woof!”

“Ice—We cut.”

“Hottie, facker~”

Three hooded figures stepped out of the shadow.

Each was outrageously jacked—huge pecs, biceps like coiled cables, barrel torsos. Bare chests flaunted every carved line.

Dark hoods covered their heads. Black straps like belts or collars crisscrossed their bodies like tortoise shell, danger woven tight.

Dixue and Yue Liuyi didn’t know what they faced. Luyao did. Shock hit, and his warning snapped like a whip.

“Eyes up! Root of nightmares—the Night Three Bros!”

“Night Three Bros?”

“That’s right.”

The middle brute took a step and spoke, voice like velvet over steel.

“To keep dreams from being shattered.”

The one on the left stepped forward.

“To safeguard our patrons’ justice.”

The one on the right stepped forward.

“To carry out the evil of love and truth!”

Left raised both hands to the ceiling.

“The strong, prideful top star!”

Right made a tiny heart over his chest.

“Hongming!”

“Youwen!”

“We are the Night Three Bros—the root of dark fantasy!”

“Ha‑ha, that’s right! Dear patrons, come savor our supreme service!”

The middle one laughed, bright and terrible in the dark.