Chapter 1: The Time General Store—Honest to All, Young and Old Alike
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Volume 145, Chapter 72 of "Chronicles of the Underworld" records: Yan Ye, one of the high-ranking administrators of the Netherworld, committed a grave offense and was imprisoned in the shadowy depths beneath the eighteenth level of hell, deprived of daylight for a full five hundred years.
In the year 745, the shocking "117 Prison Break" shook the Netherworld—Hell’s Gate suffered a devastating blow, and 287 notorious convicts escaped. Countless souls crossed through Hell’s Gate and returned to the mortal realm.
Humans and ghosts coexisted, plunging the world into chaos.
Everywhere, suffering and devastation reigned.
The world trembled in turmoil.
Even the Book of Life and Death, the supreme treasure governing all things, disappeared without a trace.
From that day forth, the Netherworld shut its only passage between the realms of the living and the dead. Those who trespassed faced dire consequences: at best, they lost half their soul; at worst, their spirit would be utterly annihilated.
A century later, a ramshackle general store opened in the wastelands, its white flag fluttering in the wind, bearing bold, majestic characters:
The Time General Store.
Here, anything could be bought and sold—granting your wishes and meeting your needs. This was the sole exception to the laws of the world.
The proprietress was a mysterious and beautiful woman. Those who had seen her claimed her beauty was beyond compare, yet few could recall her exact features.
All that remained was a painting—its artist unknown, its origin a mystery—which found its way into the world, becoming the obsession of many.
Some went mad for her; others spent fortunes merely for a glimpse.
Though the house was shabby, the shelves brimmed with dazzling wares, able to satisfy any desire.
Yet those who could truly enter the store were exceedingly rare.
Many spent their entire lives searching for it.
...
Time flew by, years slipped away.
The existence of the Time General Store gradually became a legend spoken of by others.
The once barren wilderness, battered by wind and rain, transformed with shifting landscapes. Around it, cities sprung up like mushrooms after the rain.
The only constant was the small, once dilapidated house amid the skyscrapers, now a precious, exquisite courtyard villa, occupying an irreplaceable spot.
At midnight, the street was empty, bathed in the amber glow of street lamps. Occasionally, a taxi sped past on the road. Suddenly, the glass door in front of the building was pulled open, revealing a lively bustle contrasting the quiet outside.
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Two men, supporting each other, staggered out.
At this hour, taxis were hard to hail. One, barely aware of the road, waved his hand aimlessly, muttering for a car, wondering why none appeared.
“I’ll just call one with an app—it's not like we're broke. Remember how just a few days ago we...”
“Shh!” The other jolted in fright, sobering up considerably. He shoved his companion hard and glanced around with terror, only speaking once he was sure no one was nearby. “Are you crazy? Talking about that here, aren’t you afraid someone will overhear?”
“What’s there to be afraid of? There's nobody here.”
The silent street stretched endlessly, the faulty street lamp flickering on and off.
Suddenly, a shadow intruded into their vision. One man’s hand trembled in fear, and his friend lost his support, collapsing to the ground.
“What the hell—” Following his companion’s gaze, he too was stunned.
A shadow approached, steadily drawing closer, the sound of high heels clicking, each step thundering in their racing hearts.
It was as if their actions had been paused.
Beneath a black umbrella, a woman dressed in lavish attire, a small black hat perched atop her head, wore delicate white gloves adorned with lace. A sapphire graced her neck, clearly of immense value, and two bracelets on her wrists chimed crisply as she moved.
The eerie sound echoed through the midnight street.
Through the mist, the woman’s figure gradually emerged.
The two, transfixed, inhaled sharply.
Yan Ye had just left a party, not even changing her clothes. The Soul Seal in her pocket was restless, bumping about hungrily in the confined space.
She glanced indifferently at the stunned pair by the roadside, shifting her gaze without expression. In the next moment, the black umbrella in her hand transformed into a scepter.
She wielded it lightly in the air, and something let out a piercing, agonized scream. A scorched, foul smell spread all around.
It was enough to make anyone nauseous.
A ferocious shadow in the void, like a leopard, brandished its blade and lunged straight at Yan Ye.
Yan Ye stood calmly, showing not a hint of fear. Instead, she watched the approaching monster with keen interest, a confident smile curving her lips.
Tonight promised to be a splendid night.
The shadow’s claws reached her, needing only a little force to tear her apart.
From afar, gunshots rang out. A flash streaked past Yan Ye’s eyes. The ground trembled beneath her feet, and a golden light shot upwards from below, forming a huge barrier.
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It separated her from the creature.
The blast forced her back two steps.
Sensing something amiss, the shadow immediately switched targets, charging at the two terrified men.
Gunshots sounded nearby, piercing straight through the monster. A frenzied big cat crashed to the ground, its bulky body bleeding from the abdomen, letting out unwilling, guttural roars. Anyone lacking composure would have been terrified out of their wits.
Before Yan Ye could approach, someone was already binding the creature's corpse. A rope wrapped tightly around it.
The earth seemed to quake for a moment.
At the rope’s end stood a man in a tactical jacket, a specially modified, intricately patterned gun at his waist.
His posture was relaxed, his features refined—young, wild, and unrestrained.
His gaze fixed intently on Yan Ye.
“Trouble! Someone from the Bureau of Special Abilities.” Yan Ye recognized his attire at a glance, and he appeared to hold a high rank—entangling with these people would be difficult to escape.
Yan Ye’s unique status made her loath to deal with the Bureau.
A pity about the soul cat; it carried treasures worth a fortune. If only she could display them in her store, surely some powerful figure would pay handsomely.
After a brief consideration, Yan Ye decisively abandoned her prize.
She glanced at the man nearby, then at the two passersby, who had fainted on the ground at some point.
With a thought, she summoned a car, which pulled up before her. Yan Ye swiftly opened the door and left.
As she departed, she tossed something behind.
Through the sealed window, she looked at the man; their gazes met briefly in the air, neither yielding.
Tang Shuo and Su Ran arrived at Xu Zhiting’s side, panting.
“Captain Xu, are you alright?”
This was the newly appointed head of the Bureau of Special Abilities, parachuted in from above. Tonight was supposed to be the bureau’s welcome banquet. Little did they know they’d receive a system alert mid-meal—an anomaly on South Avenue, and the room full of drunkards, not a single one fit for action.