Harvey’s childhood was spent in an orphanage, alongside ogres, orcs, and goblins. From the makeup of the residents, it was clear that his orphanage in Kaimon City was of a lower tier-merely using the guise of “diversity” to scam subsidies.

Evidently, his childhood was quite enjoyable, with entertainment freely available (no supervision), bonding with other kids (physically), engaging in social practices daily (snatching food), and receiving the best education (online resources). Unlike Fenanshe, who emerged untainted from the muck and eventually became mayor, Harvey didn’t escape this mire, nor did he turn bad. After leaving the orphanage at fifteen, he went to work at a construction site.

Yes, the feared top assassin known as the “Controller” in Blood Moon Kaimon City, the future “Ghost King” who would transform the Gospel Kingdom into a necromancy realm, the “Ghost knight” renowned across the Senlo wasteland, started as a construction worker, laboring for three years. The once slightly sickly yet aesthetically pleasing youth was tanned to a dark hue.

Unlike his coworkers, who spent money on candy for thrills, donated to casinos, or indulged in Tea House pleasures, Harvey diligently saved his money for a down payment, planning to buy a house in the suburbs. Looking back now, Harvey finds his past self peculiar-why purchase property? Most Blood Moon residents rent due to high property costs and their solitary lifestyle, with little need for a “stable abode.”

Wherever you sleep tonight, that’s home.

Perhaps it was the cozy mansions seen in TV dramas, or maybe the houses he built while mixing cement planted a strange obsession in his mind: he wanted a house of his own.

Harvey would pass time flipping through renovation magazines and architectural books, planning how to decorate his house, what materials to use, which style to choose, how to wire it, how to… He even occasionally worked part-time as a renovation worker to gain experience for his future home.

While other workers flirted with charming female homeowners, he was busy assessing whether the ceiling was too extravagant.

His coworkers called him odd, as everyone else focused on tonight’s plans while he pondered ten or twenty years ahead-whether he’d even be alive was uncertain, yet Blood Moon folks remained optimistic.

Barring unforeseen circumstances, if Harvey avoided all spending traps, he had a chance to achieve this small goal.

But life is unpredictable. One night, the security guard took leave, and Harvey volunteered for the night shift to earn extra money. As he sat in the guard room reading magazines, strange noises emanated from the construction site. He went out to investigate and found, under the Blood Moon’s glow, a girl in black methodically hacking at a corpse until it ceased moving.

Harvey stood by, quietly observing. The girl suddenly turned to him, her high ponytail swinging back. She approached, pushed Harvey to the ground, leaned over him, and held a curved blade to his neck, commanding with authority, “Help me dispose of the corpse!”

Harvey didn’t know her name was Nalber, nor did he know whom she was killing or what organization she belonged to. However, something stirred within him, and he replied, “Then I suppose I’m your accomplice now.”

It was Harvey’s first time dealing with a corpse, and it was the crudest job he had ever done. Perhaps it was fate that after this incident, he joined Nalber’s organization and became a Scavenger, specializing in cleaning up corpses.

At that time, he hadn’t shown any talent for the Necromancy Sect, but he took his work very seriously. He devised over thirty different formulas for dealing with bloodstains, feces, and flesh remnants in various environments. Every scene he handled was so clean that not even the Blood Hunters could find a trace.

It was during one alleyway cleanup that a wild necromancer, impressed by Harvey’s meticulous approach to corpses, took him as an apprentice. This marked Harvey’s entry into the world of sorcerers.

He gradually transformed from a Scavenger to a Controller cum Scavenger-killing people and then disposing of their bodies, a seamless service from death to the sea.

Harvey and Nalber often carried out missions together, but they rarely talked. Nalber tried to initiate conversations, but Harvey was usually silent and unopinionated-he really wasn’t much for culture or humor.

The only two topics that interested Harvey were livor mortis and his new home. But then it was Nalber’s turn to be silent, though she would listen to him talk about how he would decorate his new house and what patterns of livor mortis looked best on a corpse…

The peaceful days continued until Harvey’s face was seen during an operation, and his information fell into the hands of the Blood Hunters. To avoid further endangering his organization, Harvey erased his own memories as a Controller and was captured by the Blood Hunters, ending up in Shattered Lake Prison.

“A person’s life marches towards death, and the value of a person is determined by the value of their death.”

This was a saying among necromancers. Necromancers were a rather morose bunch, perhaps because they spent all day observing death, which in turn quietly observed them back, occasionally patting their heads. Yet, necromancers were also very proactive, opposing suicide and premature death, proclaiming, “Only those corpses that strive to live to the end hold greater value.”

Harvey knew his entry into Shattered Lake was a one-way road to death, but he didn’t care. He had never cared much about anything in his life. Since he had once been moved by a young girl who called him to collect a body, dying to protect her seemed like a death of value.

It was only two years later that Harvey realized he hadn’t protected anything. So he planned a Prison Break with Ashe and others. He couldn’t stay in Shattered Lake; he couldn’t die a worthless death.

Dying with value was now the only thing he cared about.

Harvey had imagined his own death countless times-dying in a prison break, dying for revenge, dying on the run, dying for the Gospel, dying to avenge Annan, dying from storming Yisuo’s Royal Palace, dying in combat against the Silver Lantern…

In the end, he died on the very last step towards home-a fitting end for a necromancer…

…Home?

Ha, it’s all Ashe’s fault for mentioning ‘home’ so many times that I almost thought…

I had a home too.

Harvey felt like he was continuously sinking deeper into the ocean. He turned his head and saw a dark Corpse Dragon, as if draped in a misty veil of fog. Its veil shimmered, looking like the night sky wrapped around its body. Its massive, majestic form seemed almost entirely composed of chains.

The Mist Veil Corpse Dragon.

While studying Necromancy, this dragon often appeared to assist Harvey, even possessing Alice at times, making it possible for Harvey to develop the Ghost King Shackles into the Blood Corpse King in just a few months.

He never knew why the Mist Veil Corpse Dragon wanted to help him, but he didn’t care. Now seeing it, Harvey had a faint realization: “My soul won’t go to hell; it belongs to you?”

“Although I’d like to wait in hell for those two, they won’t be coming down so soon.”

“Then it belongs to you,” Harvey whispered softly. “This time, I must have…”

“Died with value.”

The Mist Veil Corpse Dragon spread its Death Twin Wings, gently enveloping Harvey within.