Emperatrices transmigradas (hombres y mujeres)

Capítulo 5

"Stop keeping me in suspense, just tell me!"

Randall asked with a grin, "First, answer me, do you know the story of Snow White?"

"Nonsense! Even a three-year-old knows that!" Curry replied irritably.

“That’s what I thought too, but I was wrong,” Randall said slowly. “Tell me the story of Snow White that you know.”

"Tch! Do I even need to say it? Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" Curry picked up a beer can and pretended to be a magic mirror, acting all self-absorbed.

“That’s not the point,” Randall shook his head and pressed his hand down. “I’m asking you, what kind of person was Snow White?”

"Need I say more? The most beautiful woman in the world, every girl's idol! Who wouldn't envy her, living happily ever after with her prince charming?" Curry's eyes at that moment were clearly as if he were looking at an alien. He suspected that Randall was just playing a trick on him again.

"Oh? What about the seven dwarfs?" Randall still had that same grinning face.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Curry finally lost patience and couldn't keep arguing with him.

Seeing that Curry was really anxious, Randall chuckled: "Don't get so worked up! Okay, let me correct your mistake now!"

"What mistake?" Curry asked dismissively.

Every girl dreams of being Snow White—but that would be terrible! How many wicked and shameless women would there be in the world? In the original version, the true story of Snow White, Snow White is a shameless slut. She commits incest with her father and has affairs with the seven dwarfs; she is a sadist, arbitrarily punishing her servants with all sorts of bizarre and cruel methods; she is also a licentious woman, constantly pursuing an incredibly luxurious and decadent life. The prince chooses Snow White only because he is a necrophiliac, unable to resist the temptation of female corpses. The queen is a tragic figure; she is Snow White's biological mother, not her stepmother, and only gave birth to Snow White because she feared the king would fall in love with someone else. The king, however, was unexpectedly overshadowed by his own daughter. She was both disgusted by the king's lewd affair with Snow White and jealous of Snow White's beauty and charm. Finally, as everyone knows, Snow White and the prince conspired to commit the infamous murder. The poor queen was forced to wear the red-hot iron shoes used to punish witches, and jumped to her death amidst the pungent stench of burning flesh. And lacking a foundation of love, Snow White and the prince's future life was unlikely to be happy. Don't forget, the prince only liked corpses, unless Snow White also became a corpse… See, a cruel story that exposes the ugliest aspects of human nature, after being modified and beautified, becomes a beautiful fairy tale that everyone enjoys, even children.

Curry was stunned until Randall nudged him, bringing him back to reality. He kept muttering, "This isn't real, it's terrifying..."

“Accept reality, this is the true nature of Snow White’s obscurity,” Randall said, opening a can of Pepsi Lemonade and downing more than half of it in one gulp. “Then I realized, if the current version of The Corpse Whisperer’s Story, like Snow White, isn’t the original, then Dad’s meaning is clear. That is to say, the secret of the Corpse Whisperer was originally hidden in The Corpse Whisperer’s Story. It was only for some purpose, or in the process of being passed down orally among the people, that it was intentionally or unintentionally altered, and thus lost its original form.”

"So, if we find the original, we might have a chance to uncover the true identity of the Corpse Whisperer?!" Corey exclaimed excitedly, his tone rising in excitement. However, he quickly deflated, "But where are we supposed to find it? It's harder than finding a needle in a haystack!"

Randall smiled confidently: "Don't forget, there are several libraries in the world that preserve ancient books, and among them, perhaps... no, certainly, they contain the original version of 'The Corpse Whisperer'."

“You mean…” Curry also remembered the place he had once visited—the library on Mount the Dead. Although the experience was thrilling but ultimately safe (interested readers can refer to my work, *The Mystery of the Book Sea*), he truly loathed the location and design of that place. To this day, he still often sees that enormous skeleton, as tall as a mountain, in his dreams, either dreaming of falling from it or of the skeleton standing up and chasing him.

"Well, the first one is of course the library at the Mountain of the Dead, you've been there too." Randall chuckled, clearly noticing Curry's fear before saying that.

“I…I’m not afraid!” Curry said.

"See? I didn't say you were scared! You're already feeling guilty, aren't you? What do you mean by 'protesting too much'?" Curry was caught red-handed by Randall again, and he was going to tease him some more. "If you're looking up some information and don't have to go to the physical book like last time, you don't need to go there in person. There are computer terminals there that provide search services. But if they don't have it there, you'll have to go to the second-ranked place—the ruins of the library submerged beneath the Blood Lake. Although it's called ruins, the environment is quite nice, and you can also visit some precious relics that you would never normally see."

“This place doesn’t sound very good…” Curry had a bad feeling.

"Don't be so pessimistic!" Randall laughed, patting Curry on the shoulder. "We'll start the operation after dinner, leaving the two little guys to watch the house. Hmm... let's call the operation 'SnowWhite'!"

SnowWhite, a name that sounds pure and spotless, yet hides untold ugliness and bears witness to distorted humanity. The codename "SnowWhite," a poignant and sorrowful name, does it also foreshadow future tragedy? To this, Randall pats his chest and loudly proclaims, "No!"

Because destiny is something you have to take into your own hands.

11. Searching for Books in Blood Lake

"My bad feeling has been confirmed. I knew this would happen..." Curry said with a mournful face.

It turned out that an online search revealed the library at Mount of the Dead did not possess the original version of *The Corpse Whisper Stories*. However, the search wasn't entirely fruitless; Randall discovered that the Tibetan version of *The Corpse Whisper Stories* was indeed not the original. It originated from the ancient Indian collection of stories, *Twenty-Five Zombie Ghost Stories*, and only appeared in the late 10th century with the revival of Tibetan Buddhism. The even older *Twenty-Five Zombie Ghost Stories* also adopted a format of one large story containing 24 smaller stories. The largest of these...

The story, also known as the "Story of the Zombie Ghost," tells of how King Jianri received a fruit every day from a monk, inside which lay a jewel. To thank the monk, King Jianri agreed to carry a corpse hanging in a tree from the crematorium to the altar at night. In reality, this was not a simple corpse; a magical zombie ghost possessed it. At night, as King Jianri moved the corpse alone, the zombie ghost began to tell stories, posing a difficult question after each one. When King Jianri answered, breaking the taboo of remaining silent while moving the corpse, the body would return to the tree. This process was repeated 24 times, resulting in 24 stories. Finally, the zombie ghost exposed the monk's plot to assassinate the king, and King Jianri killed the monk on the altar. From then on, the zombie ghost became the king's friend and assistant. Moreover, the story concludes by stating that it will "be spread throughout the world as an auspicious tale and be revered. Even those who carefully listen to a single part of the story will be freed from sins and all kinds of suffering. And in the occasions where these stories are told, yakshas, zombies, demons, and rakshasas will lose their divine powers."

After reading the story, Randall and Curry exchanged bewildered glances and wry smiles: they had found an older version, and the content was indeed completely distorted. What, then, would the real story of the Corpse Whisperer be? No one could guess. However, they were also somewhat pleased, because they had taken another step closer to the truth.

"There's no other way, let's go to the Blood Lake Library!" Randall turned his laptop into a card and put it in his shirt pocket.

"Can I... not go?" Curry started to back out. Just hearing the name "Blood Lake Library" told him it wasn't a good place.

“How can that be? You have to go!” Randall frowned and flatly refused. “I can’t go there alone, because there’s a strange tale there—if the number of people going together is even, half of them must stay behind and never leave. There’s still no way to break the tale, but if the number of people is odd, the tale falls apart.”

“Hey, isn’t it perfect that you’re going alone, making it an odd number?” Curry said. He really didn’t want to go, afraid of leaving behind another bad memory like the Ghost Mountain.

Randall glared at him: "You're an adult, why are you still so cowardly? Besides, have you forgotten, I'm one of two people..."

Curry then remembered that another consciousness was dormant within Randall—Ray from the ancient mythological era. He sighed and said helplessly, "There's no way around it, I'll have to risk my life for you! But you have to promise me, you must protect me... Every time we went out together before, it never ended well, all sorts of strange things would come knocking on our door."

"Hmph, when have I ever failed to protect you? Although there were dangers, we always ended up safe, didn't we?" Randall turned his head away, feigning anger. He ignored Curry and bent down to gently stroke Ace's forehead, instructing, "Ace, I'm leaving for a while. Keep an eye on things here. If you sense a large number of corpses moving, notify me immediately. Also, protect your brother."

This time, Curry saw it clearly: Ace, who was squatting on the ground, actually nodded, then raised its right paw, allowing Randall to put a watch-shaped object on its head. Meanwhile, little B, whose belly was bulging, was still unaware of what was happening and was comfortably dozing off on the ground.

"this……"

“Hehe,” Randall chuckled, seeing Curry’s surprised look. “This is a specially made communicator for it. Hey, you’re not curious about this? Oh, you mean Ace can understand me? Animals are naturally intelligent, so divine beasts are even more so! If the seal is broken, it can even speak human language!”

"But, Little B..."

"Who told you not to break the seal?" Randall spoke in a lecturing tone, then suddenly softened: "However... it's better not to break it now, because if the Demon-Slaying Beast doesn't expend some power in battle, you won't be able to seal it again with your current strength. You don't want to walk around with a beast that's bigger than a lion, looks fierce, and that nobody recognizes, do you?"

Curry shook his head vigorously. Although he was also curious about what a talisman looked like, the thought of a celebrity's pet tiger being shot dead in the street made him abandon the idea. Besides, there were all sorts of "research institutions" that loved to study "the only remaining creatures in the world," and even without performing live dissections, just locking them up and torturing them under the guise of "research" was pathetic.

"So let's leave it at that! Luckily, Ace is here, so don't worry! If we go and come back quickly, there shouldn't be any problems." Randall flashed a confident, bright smile, though Curry didn't think that smile was necessarily reliable.

“No need for any transportation, we’ll just perform a hyperspace jump.” With that, Randall pressed his watch, projecting a 3D screen into the air. “Coordinate setting, obstacle detection, future prediction… OK, everything’s fine! Jump!”

"Wait, wait a minute!" Unfortunately, it was too late for Curry to say it. Before he could even react, the time jump had already been completed.

“Look, this is the Blood Lake!” Randall pointed ahead and said.

Blood Lake lives up to its name; its waters are a deep, blood-red color, stretching as far as the eye can see. There are no markers on the lake, not a single plant or animal to be seen; it is utterly lifeless. Even the lakeshore is barren; the sand near the lake is entirely stained dark red, with only a few scattered, withered yellow grasses appearing further away. The only sign of life is a green-painted telephone booth right next to the lake.

Curry smelled a strong stench of blood in the air and wondered if the lake was truly filled with blood. He picked up a small pebble and threw it into the lake, but to his surprise, it wouldn't even skip across the surface—the lake water was as viscous as melted tar, instantly trapping the pebble before slowly swallowing it up like a swamp. "What kind of place is this? It's worse than Mount the Dead... Why are libraries built in places like this? Why did I have to come here?" The thought of entering the ruins submerged at the bottom of the lake filled Curry with deep regret.

“Stop looking, the more you look, the more resistant you become.” Randall pulled him forcefully (actually, almost dragged him) into the lakeside phone booth. Randall took off the receiver, pulled a blood-red phone card from his pocket, inserted it into the phone, and then pressed “8, 7, 4.” The receiver connected, and after three rings, a hoarse voice asked, “Who are you looking for?”

“I want to read!” Randall replied.

"Got it. If you're not afraid, come on over!" the other party replied coldly, then hung up the phone.

Randall took the card out of the phone, and then the floor suddenly collapsed, and Randall and Curry fell down together.

"Wow..." Before Curry could finish exclaiming, he realized that he hadn't fallen into an endless abyss, but had simply landed on a sofa in a small room directly below the phone booth, with Randall sitting opposite him.

"The long journey is about to begin, it will take about an hour." Randall found a comfortable position and half-reclined on the sofa, it seemed he had been here before and had experience.

Then, Curry heard a bell ring, the whole room shook, and then it began to sink.

After being in the cramped, enclosed space for more than ten minutes, knowing full well that they were sinking to the bottom of the lake, Curry began to feel fear. He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but he started to feel short of breath, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. "Hey, hey, don't you feel like there's less and less air and the temperature is getting higher and higher?" Curry pushed the drowsy Randall with all his might.

"I'm so sleepy..." Randall yawned and said, "I forgot you're not used to it! Go press the blue button on the sofa armrest..."

Curry quickly pressed the blue button on the sofa armrest, and the air vent in the ceiling immediately opened, sending in a fresh, cool breeze that replaced the stuffy, polluted air. Curry felt much more comfortable. Meanwhile, Randall had fallen asleep.

About ten minutes later, despite the fresh air and pleasant temperature, Curry still felt stuffy: "Maybe it would be better to fall asleep like Randall..." He began to carefully examine the small room. It was a bit like one of those small cabins suspended in amusement park, with nothing but two sofas facing each other, and no decorative paintings on the snow-white walls; the difference was that there were no windows, but there were air vents and soft-lighting lamps on the ceiling. Feeling depressed, Curry started fiddling with the buttons on the sofa armrests, since Randall hadn't said anything about not touching them.

“Now that we know the blue button is for ventilation, let’s try the red one.” Curry pressed the red button. A flat panel extended from the center of the wall, forming a tabletop; then, snacks and drinks suddenly appeared on the tabletop. “Oh, this is not bad!” Curry tasted a snack; it was delicious. The drink had a flavor he had never tasted before, but it was undeniably delicious. This success spurred him to his next bold attempt: “Let’s try the white one.”

When the white button is pressed, the walls on both sides immediately dent and then slowly rise to reveal the original window.

"Randall just sleeps and doesn't even tell me how to use the buttons. Actually, looking at the scenery isn't so bad..." Curry was about to think that when he realized that the "scenery" was really unbearable to look at.

Countless human remains, fragments of flesh and bone, floated in the slightly transparent, reddish lake water, passing by the window. Curry pressed the white button repeatedly, but couldn't close the window. Dejected, he curled up on the sofa, burying his head in his knees.

"Knock, knock," someone was tapping on the windowpane. Who could it be? Could there be people living in this lake? He was curious, but he knew that was impossible, unless... the person tapping wasn't human. Curiosity and fear were locked in a tug-of-war, but curiosity always prevailed. Curry finally raised his head slightly and peeked through the crack.

A rotting, distorted face was pressed against the window, its dead-fish-like gray eyes rolling aimlessly before stopping and staring blankly at Curry. A grotesque smile appeared on that face, and it—though it didn't know what it was—began to pound its fists on the glass. "Let me in!" Curry thought, perhaps it was a hallucination, but he even heard it shouting.

Although he was 29 years old, had weathered many storms, and dared to fight against all sorts of criminals, Curry had never been able to shake off his fear of the unknown, but had simply locked it deep inside. Now, those chains broke during this journey to the bottom of the lake, and the repression and fear from his heart surged forth, taking over his mind.

"Ah!!!" he screamed, frantically trying to shake Randall, but Randall remained fast asleep. "Quick, help me, help me!" he shouted.

In the blood-red lake, restless bubbles began to rise, stirring up murky whirlwinds. No, those weren't whirlwinds, but rather rapidly flowing fragments of flesh and bone. More and more large pieces of corpses gathered, pairs of eyes, stained with death, peering into the small room. "Let me in!" "Me too!" Despite trying to cover his ears, the wailing and howling still reached Curry's ears. "Thump, thump..." The sound of punches began to intensify; even fine cracks appeared on the glass.

"Wake up! Don't leave me here alone!" Curry almost pleaded, shaking Randall violently. Men don't easily shed tears, but actually, it's better to cry, because the consequence of collapsing from excessive mental pressure is going insane.

Randall's hair was rapidly turning white, and he slowly opened his eyes. His blue pupils, like the azure sky, were deep and serene. "Heh, what are you doing?" he chuckled, speaking slowly. His mature voice was completely different from Randall's usual self.

"Who are you……"

“My name is Ray. You must be Curry? You seem scared,” Ray said slowly. He looked at Curry with his deep eyes, eyes that seemed to penetrate his body and reach the deepest part of his soul.

"Can't you see?" Curry pointed out the window. "They...they're about to come in!"

"The demons arise from the heart; they are the outward manifestation of your inner fears. Calm down, let go of the fear, forget the unpleasantness, and they will disappear." Lei remained calm, slowly closing his eyes.

Curry sat down, half-believing, half-doubting, trying to think of happy things, but he couldn't shake the shadow of fear from his mind. The Corpse Whisperer, like a dark cloud hanging over his head, clung to him relentlessly. "Get away!" Curry screamed in agony, clutching his head.

The glass rattled and shattered at any moment, and red blood had already begun to seep in through the cracks.

"This is bad!" Ray suddenly opened his eyes. He placed his hand on Curry's shoulder and said sternly, "Summon your courage! This lake of blood was formed from the resentment of countless dead. If you are afraid, anything terrible can happen! Only by being strong and overcoming your fears can you get rid of them!"

“No, no… I can’t… I can’t do it, I’m still scared…” Curry shook his head and said painfully, “I can’t forget… I can’t forget Master Guo’s death… I can’t forget the corpses filling the building… I told myself I wasn’t afraid, but that was just me lying to myself!”

With a loud "thud," a large section of the roof dented, as if some strange force had struck it from the outside. The air conditioner was probably damaged by the impact, and the room began to feel stuffy and the air gradually became stale.

“Look at me,” Ray said sternly, grabbing his collar. “Think about why you came here in the first place!”

"Why..." Curry's confused eyes began to light up again, "I...I did it to defeat the Corpse Whisperer..."

Ray nodded approvingly: "Yes, that's it! You don't need to forget your fear, because it's impossible to completely forget it. Take out your love and courage, and use them to drive away your fear! Although I haven't had much direct contact with you, I've always been watching over each and every one of you from within Randall. Believe in yourself; you've always been a strong person since you were little!"

"Am I... strong?" Curry began to re-examine himself. When he was a teenager, he was fearless and undaunted. As he grew older, he became more confused; although he hesitated slightly before rushing forward in the face of danger, the fear gradually accumulated in his heart. It was like trying to control floods with earth, blocking them instead of channeling them, which would eventually lead to a breach; when the dam holding back fear collapsed, the surging fear overwhelmed the courage he once possessed. "I need to become strong again, because I still have to protect..." Curry came to his senses.

Ray released Curry and nodded, saying, "You passed. This love that protects the weak is the source of courage and the cannon that shatters fear."

The objects clinging to the carriage suddenly abandoned their target and began to rise. The lake water, though still blood-red, gradually cleared, and the remains of bones and flesh vanished. Curry felt all his strength drain away and collapsed limply onto the sofa.

But the air remained stuffy and muggy. After a while, the whole room shook, and the situation gradually improved. Through the window, Curry was surprised to find that the carriage had entered a tubular passage, and the lake water was no longer blood red, but a refreshing blue.

About ten minutes later, the pipe began to slope downwards, leading to a colossal goddess statue holding a water bottle. Then, the pipe gradually leveled out, and the carriage entered the statue's interior through the bottle's opening. The carriage's cover was removed, and now they were carried forward slowly by the water flow below, as if sitting on a giant tray. The "tray" glided down a ramp, entered a hall filled with plants and blooming flowers, and finally came to a stop in the center.

“Come with me, I know this place better than Randall.” Ray jumped down. Curry cautiously stuck out his foot to test the ground, as if afraid it wasn’t real. Ray smiled knowingly. Once Curry was down, the “tray” supporting the sofa descended into the ground, and then a small indoor fountain rose up from below.

Curry looked around. Although it was called a ruin, it wasn't dilapidated at all. The shape of the goddess statue alone was avant-garde enough, and the interior decoration was even more futuristic, simple yet stylish. The surrounding environment was quite quiet and elegant, the air was fresh and slightly fragrant with flowers and plants, there were automatic devices running everywhere, and soft light filled the room, and he couldn't even tell what kind of light source was being used.

"You're wondering why this place, called Ruins, looks like a futuristic city, aren't you?" Ray asked, and before Curry could answer, he began to explain: "This place was originally a temple of knowledge. Tens of thousands of years ago, who didn't know about the Holy Water Library? But knowledge is the spark that illuminates humanity, and it's also what all demons most want to extinguish. In the last war of the gods, the battle here was the most brutal, gathering countless wronged souls... The Demon King's curse, combined with the resentment of the dead, formed a lake of blood, submerging this place. Although the water barrier prevented its destruction, people ultimately abandoned it. You see, abandoning knowledge is equivalent to losing civilization. After so long, humanity still hasn't been able to regain its former glory..."

"Why give up? It's not damaged." Curry asked curiously.

“You’ve seen the Blood Lake, haven’t you? It’s a barrier that can’t be breached by spatial jumps. To get in, you have to ride in one of those special carriages, even gods are no exception. But when crossing the Blood Lake, the powerful resentment draws out what’s hidden deep within a person’s heart, and those who aren’t strong enough will eventually be swallowed up by that resentment. If it weren’t for the requirement of an odd number of people coming, Randall wouldn’t have brought you to a place like this. Alas, fortunately, he didn’t choose the wrong person; you passed the test.” Ray said with a hint of sadness, then added wistfully, “The reason I’m here is also because of that lake. Returning to an old haunt… it’s truly…”

He started to say something, then gave a wry smile and swallowed the rest. Curry had always heard Ye Ying talk about Lei before, and in his mind, Lei was both decisive and ruthless. But today, when he actually met him, Lei was like a sentimental poet (in Curry's dictionary, "poet" meant "a useless person who can't even kill a chicken," or an "impoverished scholar" from ancient times), always looking melancholy.

Ray stopped speaking and led Curry through a series of turns until they arrived at a magnificent hall. This was the right shoulder of the statue of the goddess; the arched dome was transparent, and looking up, one could see the lake above. Red and blue overlapped to form a mysterious purple, which was quite beautiful. They walked to the edge of the hall, found a sofa, and sat down. A transparent crystal round table automatically extended in front of them, on which a red keyboard composed of light faintly appeared.

Ray operated the system skillfully, projecting a 3D screen into the air to display the information being retrieved. Curry, unable to help, could only sit aside and daydream: "So this kind of technology already existed, even the ruins are so advanced... Sigh, the decline of civilization caused by war has never been recovered to this day."

"Found it!" Ray exclaimed excitedly. A 3D projection of an ancient scroll, made of some unknown leather, appeared in the air. Ray reached out and made a gesture of untying, and the silk ribbons binding the scroll were untied, allowing it to slowly unfold. It turned out that, to protect the ancient text, all the operations were virtual; there was no need to touch the actual physical book. However, despite this protection, the scroll had darkened somewhat due to its age, and the ancient hieroglyphs written on it with red mineral pigments were none of Curry's recognition.

Fortunately, the automatic translation system simultaneously translated this ancient story, allowing Curry a glimpse into the true nature of the Corpse Whisperer: A young man had a strange dream one day: if he could carry back a corpse hanging upside down in the center of a forest of corpses, he would gain the power to rule the world. But when he excitedly ran to the forest of corpses, found the hanging corpse, and carried it on his back, the corpse immediately opened its mouth and bit the young man's head, inserting its limbs into the young man's body—they became one. It turned out that the dream was created by the corpse, which used human desires to lure the host into its trap. After that, the name "Corpse Whisperer" began to spread to every corner of the world. He was neither dead nor alive, the king of corpses, using the language of corpses to turn all the corpses he encountered into his servants, organizing a large army to attack human markets. People in danger sent letters of distress to all parts of the world, and seven warriors of different races and faiths volunteered to form an expedition to stop the Corpse Whisperer's ambitions. But the Corpse Whisperer was cunning and powerful. Six of the seven warriors perished, their bodies controlled by the Corpse Whisperer and becoming his accomplices. The survivor was a young and beautiful sorceress. She feigned love for the Corpse Whisperer, willingly serving him and pestering him for stories every night. Finally, the Corpse Whisperer lowered his guard and revealed his origins, including the name of the Corpse Forest—Monsuchamuchek. The sorceress, skilled in magic, loudly proclaimed the name of the Corpse Forest to the Corpse Whisperer and, at the cost of her own life, cast a spell to send him back to the Corpse Forest. When the people, trembling with fear, arrived at the palace occupied by the Corpse Whisperer after discovering the collapse of the undead army, they found the sorceress's body and her suicide note, learning the truth. To commemorate the seven fallen warriors and to warn future generations, the story of the Corpse Whisperer was recorded. The story concludes by saying that it will "be passed down throughout the world as a lesson for mankind. Even if you only hear a part of it, you should remember this sin and the suffering caused by the Corpse Whisperer, and not be blinded by power. Everyone should be wary of the Corpse Whisperer, because he has not given up and is always looking to rise from the forest of corpses."

"Hmph, just as I expected. Later the story was distorted, the warning to the world was erased, the true face of the Corpse Whisperer was hidden, and good and evil were completely reversed." Ray didn't seem surprised by this.

“Why…why is it distorted? The Corpse Whisperer has already harmed humanity once, why don’t people pass on the warning?” Curry murmured.

Ray's face was full of disdain. He sneered, "Isn't this commonplace? Calling black white, calling the devil a god... Human history is a recurring example of this folly. In medieval Europe, believers in God described all dissidents as devils, even the pentagram, a symbol of cosmic harmony, was demonized as a symbol of evil. Humans are the most deceitful animals; in this respect, even the devil is ashamed. If there is anything more terrifying than the evil of the devil, it is the human heart."