Ghost 608 is placed in a rudimentary room.

0202 looked at the old bed sheets, and the wooden tables and chairs with the patent leather peeling, he felt very comfortable.

The ghost feels that private pleasure is a very sinful and dangerous thing, and that money and women can easily lead people to deviate from the faith, to depravity and ruin.

If he returned this time, the prison envoy sent someone to arrange a high-end and luxurious room for the ghost, he would be very uncomfortable.

"When the results come out, the Prison Envoy will report this matter to the Prison Emperor, and I guess I can get a personal interview with the Prison Emperor!" The ghost's gaze was filled with infinite anticipation. Thinking of being able to meet the Prison Emperor, he was a little excited, and the tattoos on his face were slowly revealed.

The wound on his chest was aching again, and blood was slowly flowing from the place where the skin had split.

The pain made the ghost feel a lot more relaxed.

"Pain is the salvation of the world, the best baptism of the spirit!" The ghost knelt on the ground, and he began to thank the Prison Emperor for giving him life and allowing him to realize the true drop of life.

In order to capture Tang Yulan, this operation caused the death of many innocent people, and the ghost felt a little guilty about it, so the time to repent was much longer than before.

It wasn't until there was a knock on the door that the ghost slowly stood up, his knees aching. He limped to the door and opened it.

Outside the door, there was a tattooed priest, still with an old-fashioned poker face, and said, "Lord Zongbai wants to see you!" "The voice sounds flatter than plain water.

"Great!" There was a flash of joy in the ghost's gaze.

Zong Bai was ranked sixth among the eighteen prison envoys, and Ghost No. 608 was also directly ordered by him.

Theoretically speaking, among all the prison envoys, the strength of the first rank is the weakest, and the strength of the lowest ranking is stronger, but because of the passage of time, each prison envoy has their own situation and understanding, and their strength will also improve and decline.

But in fact, when you really fight, you not only rely on strength, but also on luck and mentality, and even the environment.

It's a great thing to be a prison emissary, and it's always been something that the ghosts follow and strive for.

The ghost followed closely behind, and the two of them walked down the stairs to the lower level of the building.

The air began to get a little damp, and the ghost inhaled into his lungs, breathing a little shorter.

The lights installed at the top of the corridor hit the walls, and the colorful oil portraits came to life.

The hail was raging, the frozen skin of the corpses was gray, the body was hard, a tear just left the corner of the eye, and was instantly frozen by the cold air, flashing a strange light in the corner of the eye.

There are also people who are suffering from diseases, their bodies are covered with blisters, layer upon layer, the sores are crushed and cracked, and the heavy color hits the eyeballs.

Flames of various colors, one by one, charred bodies were slashed by the jailers.

Instead of being frightened by the paintings, the ghost turned up the corners of his mouth and smiled gently.

Passing by the small wooden doors, some of them were hidden, and there were coffins and other items inside, and some were locked by thick iron chains.

Even the wall skirts were hung with black chains, cold and heavy.

"Here we are." The tattoo whispered, and then stepped back.

The ghost couldn't contain the excitement in his heart, and he looked at the blue wooden door in front of him, on which were the lotus flowers carved by skilled craftsmen. 02

But when you walk in and take a closer look, it feels very strange, as if the skin and bones of a person burst and form petals.

The ghost was about to kneel on the ground, and it was the first time he had met the prison envoy on such an occasion, and his heart felt very memorable.

No sooner had his legs bent than a deep, powerful voice rang out from the room.

"Come in!"

The ghost was agitated, he rubbed his face, brushed his hair back, straightened his shirt, and even rubbed the soles of his shoes on the floor, took a deep breath, and pushed the door in.

When he pushed the door open, a bright beam of light hit his face, and the ghost smelled a divine breath in front of him, which felt like the dawn of victory had descended on the earth after a long war.

Goo!

The ghost swallowed, and the world became clear.

It is a huge room of more than 100 square meters, with a huge bookshelf on the left, which fills an entire wall, and is faced with a mural of intense colors, on which the horrors of hell are vividly depicted.

A few yellow beams of sunlight shone on the earth through the black pressure of the hideous peaks.

The earth was desolate and desolate, cyan and blue were intertwined into a field of ice and snow, and even these beams of light seemed to be frozen, without the slightest warmth.

The men and beasts on the snow turned into ice, their expressions of fear were frozen by the cold, their limbs were frozen and cracked, and their muscles and blood vessels became crumbs of ice, which were glued to the surface.

Seeing this painting, the ghost felt that the temperature of the entire room had dropped by a few degrees, and it seemed that an infinite cold wind was raging, scraping on his body like a knife and a needle prick. The ghost who has lived in hell since he was a child knows very well that this painting is based on the sixth layer of hell, "Cracked like a blue lotus hell".

Except for this painting, the rest of the placement is relatively ordinary.

On the desk is a bronze demon head, and on the right wall are several paintings with intricate patterns that look similar to the tattoos on the tattoos.

As for the coffee table and chairs, they are all made of wood, and the color is slightly old, and in some places there is a light that has accumulated over time.

Zong Bai had his back to the ghost and was sitting on a rosewood chair drinking tea.

Zong Bai said softly: "Come here, sit down!" ”

"Yes! Prison Envoy. The ghost looked respectful and a little reserved, and he walked to the opposite side and bowed before daring to sit down.

Zong Bai took out the delicate teacup, poured it seven points full for the ghost, and said, "Come, taste this cup of tea......"

"Yes." Flattered, the ghost lowered his head to take the teacup and drank.

There is no doubt that the tea is very inferior, and it is bitter and astringent in the stomach when you drink it, but the ghost is like drinking Qiong brewed jade liquid, and the enjoyment between the expressions is not pretended at all.

Zong Bai said slowly: "You are one of my most outstanding subordinates, and this mission has been completed quite well!" ”

The ghost placed the teacup on the table and said, "Thank you, Prison Envoy, for the compliment." ”

Zong Bai smiled and continued, "Why don't you raise your head and take a look at me?" ”

The ghost was stunned for a moment, then slowly raised his head, and when he saw Zong Bai's appearance, the corners of his mouth twitched violently, and he exclaimed: "Lord Prison Envoy, who are you?!" ”

Zong Bai's face was sallow, shaped like a withered tree, not to mention that his eyes were dull, and even his eyebrows had lost their color, and their color was yellow.

"It's all because of tattoos." He smiled and said that his face was as ugly as the folds of an old tree.

The ghost's hands trembled and asked, "How can this be?" ”