Yang Tian's King of Hell tattoo had a unique feature: the King of Hell's eyes were closed.

My grandfather had once told me that a King of Hell tattoo was even more dangerous than one of Guan Gong. If the King of Hell’s eyes were open, the person who wore the tattoo would surely die. In contrast, Guan Gong's eyes were said to bring misfortune to the wearer, but the King of Hell was far worse.

A closed-eyed King of Hell tattoo, particularly one made with Yin ink, was even more sinister. Just thinking about it sent a chill down my spine.

"Little Yang, who did this King of Hell tattoo for you?" I asked, curious.

Yang Tian shook his head. "I don’t know. I was very young when it was done, and it's been with me ever since. The tattoo is cursed. Every time it opens its eyes, someone close to me dies. When I was a child, it opened once, and soon after, my entire family was gone. I became an orphan, and that’s when the Old Master took me in as his apprentice."

He didn’t know when the King of Hell’s eyes would open again, nor who would die. The mere thought terrified him, which was why he had come to me for help. He wanted me to remove it.

Yang Tian had tried other tattoo shops before, but no one could remove it. Eventually, he discovered that his tattoo was a "ghost tattoo."

Su Qing had told him that I was the heir of the ghost tattoos, so he believed I might have the ability to remove it.

To be honest, the craftsmanship on Yang Tian's tattoo was exquisite, done by a master tattoo artist. It was on par with my grandfather's skills.

The thing is, this ghost tattoo had been on him since childhood. As he grew, his skin and body naturally stretched, yet the tattoo had remained unchanged, as if it grew with him. Such a tattoo, if I had to remove it, would require more than a simple fix—it would mean peeling off a layer of skin.

"Little Yang, to be honest, it looks like this tattoo can't be removed," I said frankly.

"How could that be? Isn’t there another way?" Yang Tian frowned, still holding onto hope, but his face remained emotionless.

I explained that the tattoo couldn’t be removed, unless he could shed his skin like a snake. However, if he was only worried about the King of Hell opening its eyes, I had another solution.

The King of Hell’s eyes would bring death. But it was simple to stop it from opening: we could just tattoo something over the eyes to cover them. That way, it would be less likely for the eyes to open.

I couldn’t promise that it would prevent the eyes from opening entirely, especially since this was a closed-eyed King of Hell tattoo made with Yin ink. The full extent of its malevolent power was unimaginable. But I could at least reduce the frequency of its opening, and maybe it would help in critical moments.

Yang Tian hesitated. He still believed that to eliminate the threat completely, the tattoo needed to be removed. But I told him that the tattoo had already fused with his skin over the years, and no one could remove it now.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

After thinking for a while, Yang Tian agreed to my suggestion, though he still seemed uneasy. I told him that I would think about what exactly to tattoo over the eyes of the King of Hell. I had never done something like this before, and this wasn’t something I could take lightly. Covering the eyes of the King of Hell was a serious matter—if it was done wrong, we could both end up in trouble.

Yang Tian left me a phone number and disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. In the blink of an eye, he was gone, vanishing just as suddenly as when he first appeared. I had no idea whether he went back to the Old Master’s place or somewhere else, but it was clear that he was a powerful ally. I had to hold on to this connection tightly.

His power was something few could dare to challenge. As someone new to this world, it was comforting to have a strong figure to lean on. Now, I just needed to figure out how to handle this tattoo.

But no matter how much I thought about it, I was still unsure of how to cover the King of Hell’s eyes. I had never encountered a situation like this before, and my grandfather had never taught me how to deal with it. This was a real challenge.

Then I remembered Hong Wu. This old man seemed to know a lot about ghost tattoos, and he had worked with my grandfather many times. If anyone could help me figure this out, it was him.

I called Hong Wu, and at first, he thought I was calling for business. He was overly enthusiastic, complimenting me on how well my tattoo shop was doing, even though it had only just opened. "You’re really something, huh? The money’s already rolling in!"

I cut him off. "Not about business today, Hong Wu. I just need some advice."

His tone cooled immediately, realizing it wasn’t about a sale. But because I was a regular customer, he still treated me with respect and asked what I needed.

I explained the situation: I had a customer with a closed-eyed King of Hell tattoo who wanted it removed, but the tattoo had fused with his skin. There was no way to remove it, so I planned to cover the eyes with a new tattoo. But I wasn’t sure what I should tattoo to block the King of Hell’s eyes.

Hong Wu was stunned. "Closed-eyed King of Hell? Which fool had the guts to get that tattoo?" he asked, surprised.

He went on, "Anyone who gets this tattoo is bound to be cursed—a real calamity. No tattooist in their right mind would ever do it. If the King of Hell gets angry, we all die. Ghost tattoos aren’t a joke! Are you messing with me?"

I assured him I wasn’t joking and explained that the tattoo was made with Yin ink.

"Yin ink? Don’t joke around. Even your grandfather wouldn’t dare do that. A closed-eyed King of Hell tattoo? You’re telling me this is a ghost tattoo made with Yin ink?" Hong Wu’s voice grew incredulous.

I repeated the story, telling him the tattoo belonged to Yang Tian, the Old Master’s top disciple.

"Yang Tian?" Hong Wu’s tone changed, and I could hear the realization in his voice. After a long pause, he clicked his tongue and said, "Ah, so it’s that kid. No wonder. I guess only someone like him could survive with that tattoo."

"Do you know him?" I asked, intrigued.

Hong Wu didn’t know Yang Tian personally, but he had heard of him in the circles that dealt with the supernatural.

Once Hong Wu understood who the tattoo belonged to, he finally believed me. "To block the King of Hell’s eyes, you can’t use an ordinary tattoo. It has to be something extraordinary. The best choice is an Azure Dragon. But it has to be a five-clawed dragon."

"Five-clawed dragon?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah, five claws are the emperor’s claws," he explained. "Don’t worry, Yang Tian can handle it. That kid can handle even a Jade Emperor tattoo. But listen, you have to be careful with the coloring on the dragon. It has to be pure. No wings, though. If you give it wings, it’ll ascend to heaven. And don’t paint the dragon’s eyes red. Not because of Yang Tian, but because it’s dangerous for anyone else."

Hong Wu’s advice was exactly what I needed. It seemed perfect—two Azure Dragons to cover the King of Hell’s eyes. It made sense, and I was sure the effect would be powerful.

I decided right then: I would tattoo two Azure Dragons.

I was about to call Yang Tian and let him know when, suddenly, a black car pulled up outside the alley. A group of men in black suits walked toward the shop.

"Tang Hao, our master wants to see you," one of them said.