My Wife Is the King of Hell

Have you ever heard tales of the Netherworld?

Some stories, when told, are met with disbelief. Yet their incredibility does not mean they aren’t true.

When the false is taken for truth, the truth becomes false; when nothing becomes something, something may yet be nothing...

Chapter 1: Can Drinking Cold Water Really Get You Killed?

Northern Desolation Town was aptly named—a place as bleak as its title suggested. Even the provincial capital was considered a backwater, let alone this little outpost at the edge of nowhere.

Under the bright moon and scattered stars, the streets were eerily silent and empty; not even the chirping of insects or the call of a bird could be heard. A chill wind swept through, making one’s hair stand on end with terror.

Suddenly, a sharp crack rang out from inside a candle and incense shop.

The scene shifted.

Shards of a broken glass lay scattered on the floor, water spreading across the tiles. A young man in his early twenties, with long hair and dressed in a black tracksuit, clutched his own throat tightly with his left hand, while his right dug desperately into his mouth. Clear drool dribbled from the corner of his lips.

A low, muffled groan escaped him.

His face, waxen and deathly pale, was twisted in agony, bloodshot eyes bulging as if about to burst from their sockets. After several futile attempts, the youth reached for the cell phone atop the counter—his last hope for salvation.

In the corner, two paper effigies with painted rouge cheeks watched on with ambiguous smiles, maki