Chapter 660 - 64: Demigod

Chapter 660: Chapter 64: Demigod

A chill shot up from the base of my spine, like a cold snake slithering up my skin.

It made every hair on my body stand on end.

That was definitely money for the dead.

On the grayish-white, coarse paper, words were clearly printed in cheap ink.

Although the strokes were crooked, it had the number "fifteen" at the front, followed by a string of zeros so long I couldn’t be bothered to count them.

But at the end were indeed the words "Heaven and Earth Bank."

’So—’

I whirled around and practically ran across the living room.

I stopped in front of the bedroom door.

The bedroom door was closed.

The dark red wooden door had no decorations. The doorknob was brass-colored and old, its surface worn with a few fine scratches.

I raised my hand, hesitating for a moment at the door.

Then I knocked three times.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

The sound wasn’t loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet house.

A voice came from inside.

It was a woman’s voice—kind and soft, as if she had just been woken from a dream, with a hint of lazy nasality.

"Come in."

I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

The bedroom was very dark.

The curtains were drawn tight, leaving only a narrow gap on each side. Grayish light seeped in through the gaps, dyeing the room in a murky haze.

A faint, indescribable scent hung in the air.

It smelled like a quilt that had been dried in the Sun, warm and inviting, making one feel sleepy.

And yet, it also smelled of decay from the earth, cold and grim, tempting one to sink into a deep slumber.

The bed was large.

It was an old-fashioned wooden bed. The headboard was carved with patterns I couldn’t make out, the sheets were dark blue, and the comforter was puffed up, forming two vague outlines.

It was two people.

They were lying on their sides, facing me, but the light was too dim. I could only see their general shapes—the one on the left was taller, the one on the right, smaller.

Their faces were hidden in shadow, their features indistinct. Only a faint, dim light seemed to glow from where their eye sockets should be.

I stood at the doorway, clutching the note. A small part of its edge was soaked with sweat, sticking limply to my palm.

"Dad, Mom," I heard myself say, my voice incredibly hoarse, as if I hadn’t had a drink in a very long time. "Why do the rooms in our house look like a restaurant?"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Then, the shadow on the left moved.

A man’s voice spoke, deep and with a matter-of-fact flatness, as if I had asked a very strange question.

"We own a restaurant. Isn’t that normal?"

I froze.

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, but my throat felt like it was blocked, and no sound came out.

’Is it normal?’

’It seems... it is normal.’

I thought about it, over and over. The thoughts in my head were a tangled mess that I couldn’t seem to sort out.

But I couldn’t find any reason to object.

"Right," I nodded, my voice a little steadier than before. "It is very normal."

After I said it, I felt again that something was wrong.

The feeling was like wearing a sock with a loose thread inside. You know it’s there, but you can’t feel it or see it through the sole of your shoe; there’s just a faint, nagging discomfort.

I took a deep breath.

The air in my chest was surprisingly cold. As it filled my lungs, it sent a shiver through me.

"But," I pulled out the note, unfolded it, and held it up to the two people in the bed. "The customer handed me a piece of Joss Paper."

"Look," my voice grew urgent. "Heaven and Earth Bank. This is money for the dead."

I instinctively felt something was wrong.

Not because of the note itself—though it was indeed a piece of Joss Paper—but because of the words "Heaven and Earth Bank."

I couldn’t explain why, but a vague voice in my head was telling me.

’No!’

’There shouldn’t be a Heaven and Earth Bank.’

’This world doesn’t have a Heaven and Earth Bank.’

’But why not?’

I couldn’t say.

The woman’s voice spoke again.

The shadow on the right stirred. Her voice was still kind and soft, tinged with a hint of amusement, as if she were coaxing a child who was talking nonsense.

"Money for the dead? What are you talking about?" her tone was dismissive. "Isn’t it just a regular banknote? It’s just that you haven’t used cash in a long time, so you haven’t seen the new design."

I froze again.

Her words were like a hand, slowly and deliberately smoothing out the tangled mess in my mind.

I looked down at the note in my hand—the clear writing, the absurd number of zeros, the coarse paper—

’It seems... it does look like a banknote.’

’How long has it been since I used cash?’

’A year?’

’Two years?’

’Longer?’

I was so used to mobile payments. I honestly couldn’t say what banknotes looked like now.

’Maybe... new bills are just like this?’

’Printed with ’Heaven and Earth Bank’?’

’Printed with those ridiculous denominations?’

’It seems... to make sense.’ 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"That... makes sense," I mumbled, my voice soft, as if speaking to myself.

The man’s voice sounded again, this time with a hint of urgency.

"Alright, stop thinking about all that nonsense. Get back to business and make some money. The family is counting on you."

I nodded.

The movement was automatic, a physical reaction that didn’t need my brain’s permission.

"Okay."

I turned, walked out of the bedroom, and pulled the door shut behind me.

The lock clicked shut. The sound echoed for a moment in the quiet hallway, then faded.

I took a few steps, then suddenly stopped.

’Wait.’

’Didn’t I... wasn’t I lying in the bedroom just now?’

’Was the bed in the bedroom like this?’

’With a carved headboard, dark blue sheets, and a puffed-up comforter.’