“Don’t ask about the specifics, such as what the questions are. Although these are matters of common knowledge to all Emissaries of Hell, I’m unfortunately not at liberty to disclose these.” Qin Ye swirled the contents of his wine glass about, “Because as soon as I do… the Second King Yanluo’s wrath would come crashing down on me like a heavenly thunder. I don’t wish to perish in this place.”

He sipped his wine silently as he swept a glance around the table.

Nobody spoke.

Every single Yin spirit, including Black Mamba himself, were all deep in thought.

Keep guessing… You guys wouldn’t be able to enter Hell to verify this anyway. Sure, you might be able to send in some darkfeathers, but none can get out!

In other words, you’ll never be able to verify anything I’m saying right now! Besides, from your perspective, my honor as an Abyssal Prefect, a trade negotiator and a representative of one of the Eight Great Clans is clearly riding on the line. That being the case, do you think I’d really be lying to you right now?

You have no choice but to take my words at face value and assume that this is where Hell stands right now. Furthermore, given the Second King Yanluo’s cantankerous nature, it’s not unreasonable to expect him to pull a stunt like this.

Speaking of which, Brother Xu, rest in peace. Let us never see each other again…

Just then, something appeared to occur to Black Mamba,...