William Clark recalled the way that ball of fire cowered in front of him, the corners of his lips curling up: "As long as it's you saying it, I'll believe it."

You believe my ass!

You're practically about to ascend to heaven!

Alice Carter came in without ever treating this as a world inside a book, and now even less so. To him, the system's words sounded more like a prophecy.

Alice Carter didn't want to dig deeper, replying weakly, "What do you want?"

William Clark lowered his eyes, fragile and exhausted: "Year after year, I've been harmed by demonic energy. Now my soul is extremely weak, and I need to sleep deeply from time to time. But this palace is full of crises, and with that woman watching, I can't show any weakness. So I hope that when necessary, you can help me stay conscious."

Alice Carter looked at him, and after a long moment, raised his voice: "That's it?"

William Clark: "Mm."

Alice Carter was truly speechless. That's it? Did he really have to go about it this way?

But honestly, if William Clark hadn't opened this door, he would have just sat back and watched the show for half a year.

The system is such a scam—accumulating virtue on a tyrant, what a joke. Good thing he didn't agree.

Of course, Alice Carter couldn't be bothered to explain these details to William Clark. He was destined to float around him anyway. In the future, could he really just stand by and watch in the same situation?

Alice Carter felt he must have been a hero for ten lifetimes to have this sense of justice.

His aversion to killing seemed written into his genes, etched into his bones.

William Clark said, "Have you decided?"

Alice Carter snapped, "No."

William Clark: "Does it really hurt that much?"

Alice Carter: "No shit."

William Clark chuckled, suddenly reaching out his hand, snowy sleeves falling to reveal a thin, pale wrist.

He leaned in, his fingers gently touching Alice Carter's forehead.

Passing through the surface, he touched the depths of his soul.

Alice Carter, huddled in the blanket, was completely stunned.

The next second, a warm current flowed through his limbs and bones. He felt his soul grow lighter and more transparent, the pain of burning blood and shattered bones growing fainter and fainter. After a flash of white light, Alice Carter had already floated out of that tormented body.

He hovered in the air, dazed, then landed on the other side of the desk, dumbly watching William Clark curled up like a zongzi. Black hair covering his face, trembling, grimacing in pain, a white mark bitten into his lip—oh, that's how he looked just now.

But once the original soul entered, the feeling changed completely.

William Clark seemed unable to feel that pain. Calmly, he unwrapped the blanket, then lowered his lashes and tucked the hair Alice Carter had messed up behind his ear.

Raising his sleeve slightly, his slender hand gently touched his own eyes. Feeling a bit of dampness, he paused, then couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Alice Carter: "..."

He really wanted to jump out the window and run.

William Clark smiled, his voice very soft: "Cried from the pain?"

Alice Carter shamelessly retorted, "It's your body, so if it cried, it's you crying!"

William Clark nodded: "Alright, I cried."

Alice Carter scrutinized him, trying to find a trace of pain, struggle, or vulnerability on his face. But unless William Clark deliberately put on an act, those emotions were nowhere to be found.

Alice Carter asked, "Aren't you afraid of pain?"

William Clark glanced at him, his tone calm: "I'm afraid of pain, but that doesn't mean I can't endure it. I can't let you suffer for me."

Alice Carter replied dryly, "Oh."

Now he's pretending to be a good guy?

William Clark said, "Have you decided?"

This was the second time he'd asked.

Alice Carter felt a headache just hearing it. He really wanted to kneel to this lunatic.

To be able to drive a ghost to this point—truly impressive.

Alice Carter took a deep breath and said in resignation, "You should be grateful you ran into a nosy ghost like me."

William Clark found this amusing, lowered his eyes and smiled, but didn't respond.

Alice Carter sighed, floated to the other side of the desk, and said, "You really don't have to force me like this. If you just explained things clearly, it's not like I wouldn't help."

William Clark gave a faint "Mm."

Alice Carter ruffled his hair—no matter how messy, his own hair always felt right.

"Alright then. I promise you, just don't go on a killing spree in front of me. Hold out for half a year, that's all I ask, thanks."

William Clark asked, "Do you really hate killing that much?"

Alice Carter absentmindedly tugged at a stubborn cowlick: "I really hate it when you kill people in front of me, then tell me I can save them without paying too heavy a price."

William Clark: "As expected."

Alice Carter exhaled in resignation: "Forget it, I'm just a ghost. I'll save as many people as I can, rack up some virtue, and hope for a good reincarnation next life."

William Clark laughed and said, "You're really interesting."

Alice Carter: "Oh."

William Clark: "How do you think my reincarnation turned out?"

Alice Carter: "..." He already knew what he was going to say.

William Clark said lightly, "Even as a puppet, I'm still the emperor of Chu. Power, money, beauty—whatever you want, you can have."

Alice Carter wasn't falling for it: "Then cherish this life while you can." See you in the eighteenth level of hell next time.

William Clark looked at him for a while before saying, "Most of the time, you don't seem like a ghost at all."