Without batting an eyelid, Qin Ye walked straight back to the entrance of Hell’s Gate, looked at the Death Inquisitors and barked coldly, “What are you still looking at? Go do what you need to do.”

He spoke as though he had seen his fair share of these incidents, and what he had done was all in a day’s work.

“Nice showing.” Arthis smiled faintly at Qin Ye after the Death Inquisitors left, and they began to make their way to the annex hall, “But you’ve forgotten something.”

Qin Ye rolled his eyes at her and whispered back, “Shouldn’t you know by now that I’m a genius at anything to do with the preservation of my face… What did I forget?”

“There should’ve been a huge round of applause for you. In terms of shamelessness, you’re only the third best I’ve ever seen.” Arthis waved her hand, and countless black crystals ranging from the size of the tip of a person’s digit to the size of a fist poured out of Wrath’s corpse like a tide, gathering before Arthis in a pile, before congealing into a larger, somewhat irregular crystal. It was approximately the size of a coffin, albeit one covered in cracks.

“What’s that?” Qin Ye stretched out his hand and touched it apprehensively. It was cold to the touch, and yet it glittered and gleamed from within like a pure black crystal that seemed to contain an endless river of souls. It looked absolutely mesmerizing.

“Yin jade.”...