Underworld App (3): Magical APP

What surprised Chu Feng was that, apart from being able to long-press to move the app, there was no option to uninstall it at all. He opened the system interface and the app manager, searched through everything, but still couldn’t find any trace of the app.

He didn’t give up and continued searching through the storage management interface, thinking he could just delete the source file directly. However, no matter how many times he searched, he still found nothing.

Chu Feng: “…………”

Helpless, Chu Feng got up and turned on his computer, intending to connect his phone and use a more direct method to completely format the device.

Then, he saw the exact same app icon appear on his computer desktop.

Chu Feng: “…………”

Working with computers was Chu Feng’s area of expertise, but no matter what methods he tried, he couldn’t find a way to delete this virus-like app. He looked at his phone again and found that everyone in the chat groups and on his feed was also lamenting about this same issue, saying they had no way to deal with the app either.

Someone even posted a video showing what some people saw when they opened the app.

Not everyone was as cautious as Chu Feng and his friends.

“Did you see the news? It looks like every smart device across the country has been forcibly installed with this app.”

“Dear god, this is even more vicious than that Panda Virus from over a decade ago!”

“Which tech genius is messing with us?”

“Wait, is that what you’re all focusing on? Haven’t you opened the app and seen the content inside?? Everyone’s talking about it right now!!!”

That made a bunch of people curious, and they began asking what was going on.

The person replied directly: “It’s too complicated to explain! Just go look for yourselves!!”

So everyone began using their own methods, enabling their firewall software and preparing all kinds of anti-virus measures before cautiously opening the app.

Chu Feng’s method was simpler—he pulled out a rarely-used backup phone. After turning it on, he saw a black-and-red app icon appear in the center of the screen and clicked it to enter.

As soon as the app launched, the first thing he saw was two huge options:

[You are: Human / Soul of the Dead]

Chu Feng: “…………”

He casually clicked “Human,” and the screen switched to a new interface. He found that it was a collection of forums, with the majority of threads titled things like “How do I uninstall this thing?”, “Did your devices get infected too?” or even more shocking ones: “You HAVE to check the Soul Channel!! I’m freaking out with goosebumps!!!”

Followed by replies like: “I saw it, I saw it, it’s really creepy!”

“Do you guys think this could be real?”

“Pfft, just hype. Ghosts in broad daylight? Get real.”

“Boring.”

Seeing the lively discussions, Chu Feng exited the human channel and clicked on the soul channel instead.

The tone there was completely different from the lively and noisy human forum next door. It was filled with a sense of oppression, horrifying content, and posts written like cries for justice, evoking a deep sense of fear.

Chu Feng skimmed through and found that most of the content was like this:

[Death of Li XX in XX Region on September 28]

[List of masterminds behind large-scale organ trafficking case in XX Province]

[Missing person Zhang from XX identified death location]

And so on.

No wonder people in the human forum accused the app of sensationalism—at first glance, it did feel clickbait-y.

Chu Feng casually clicked into one post and found that the poster was recounting their death in the first person, as if from the perspective of the deceased, describing the entire process in vivid, detailed language. From the relationship with the murderer to the act of the crime, even how the evidence could be uncovered—it was all laid out clearly!

It was so well written, it made people wonder: Could this actually be real?

Chu Feng exited that post and opened another.

He quickly noticed the difference between the two. The tone and word choices of the second post were completely different, clearly not written by the same “victim.” The logic wasn’t as tight, the phrasing matched someone from a different region and education level—if this was fake, the fabrication was impressively detailed.

This post told the story of an elderly person who was abused to death by their children. Chu Feng glanced through it and once again saw that the evidence was clearly listed. He couldn’t help but think—if everything written here was true, then the police should be able to verify it all easily. But if it’s fake, then the app developer went to extreme lengths for a hoax that would fall apart under any investigation. That would be pretty anticlimactic.

Then he checked a third post, then a fourth…

They were all stories of injustice like this.

Chu Feng couldn’t help but feel a sense of horror and awe.

At that moment, he both wished that everything was fake—and yet hoped it was all true.

Because otherwise, these wrongfully killed souls, unable to rest even in death, would be far too pitiful.

He had woken up relatively late, so by the time he encountered the app, it had already been circulating for quite a while.

Inside a police station, a middle-aged ghost cop hid in a corner, trying not to get bumped into by his colleagues, staring in shock at the chaos around him. That heart, which had stopped beating long ago, was suddenly racing again!

“They actually found unknown bloodstains in the basement from the 6.28 XX case?? Send me the DNA results right now!!”

“A girl’s skeleton under the tourist site? Wearing a daisy hairclip? Estimated death three years ago?? Oh my god, it’s exactly like the post described!!!”

“What did you say? A finger bone really is missing?? And they found it buried in that family’s yard?! Hurry, apply for an arrest warrant and bring in the suspect!!”

“We’re short on staff?! Damn it! I’ll go myself!!”

Uniformed officers rushed about the station, their voices so loud it seemed like they might shake the whole building down.

Seeing that the cases he’d investigated for years had finally reached his colleagues’ hands, the middle-aged ghost officer’s eyes reddened, and tears began to pour out uncontrollably. He squatted in the corner, wiping his eyes with his arm, crying like a child.

He couldn’t believe it—this miracle was actually happening.

Through his tears, he suddenly remembered the long-haired young man he’d met recently and felt an urgent need to find him.

Recalling the few clues left behind during their conversation, the ghost floated out of the station and headed straight toward the neighborhood where Chu Feng lived.

When he left the police station, he saw a crowd of ghosts below—some sobbing, some cheering madly, all in complete chaos. Their mouths shouted in frenzy, and some even shed two streams of blood tears. They had suffered for far, far too many years.

The ghost officer quickly found Chu Feng’s house and saw the young man sitting beside Chu Feng, watching something on the phone with him.

Since Chu Feng was still talking with Si Qi, the ghost officer instinctively assumed Chu Feng was also a ghost and excitedly said, “Is this app the method you mentioned before?”

Si Qi raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

The ghost officer continued, overjoyed, “This is amazing! This thing is absolutely amazing! You have no idea how useful it is!!”

Si Qi turned to Chu Feng and said, “I’m going to wash my hands,” then got up and left the living room.

Then, amidst the ghost officer’s confused muttering—“You’re a ghost, why are you washing your hands?”—Si Qi said, displeased, “Barging into someone else’s home like that is very rude.”

The ghost officer froze for a moment, then apologized obediently, “Sorry…”

But he was a ghost. Aside from doing this, he really didn’t know how else to quickly let Si Qi know he had arrived…

Seeing that Si Qi nodded and didn’t pursue the matter further, the officer, barely able to contain his excitement, asked, “Did you already know this app was going to appear? Or does it have something to do with you?”

Si Qi: “I created it.”

The officer’s jaw dropped in shock. After a moment, he slapped Si Qi on the shoulder, saying, “Good kid! You’re amazing!!”

Seeing the emotion in his reddened eyes, Si Qi’s expression softened a bit. He asked, “Did you come find me in such a hurry because something’s wrong?”

The officer nodded. “I wanted to ask—besides helping souls find justice, could you add a new function? Like helping the living. I actually still have many cases I want to report…”

Perhaps worried that Si Qi would dismiss the seriousness of the matter—or simply not care—the officer added urgently, “We’ve already been dead for so many years. Whether our cases get solved sooner or later doesn’t matter much! But there are still living victims out there suffering. If they suddenly can’t take it anymore and something terrible happens, it’ll be too late for regrets!!”

Si Qi thought for a moment and said, “Got it. Investigate everything clearly and send it to me. I’ll publish it.”

“Great!” the officer exclaimed, slapping his thigh. He immediately passed through the wall to get started. As he walked past Chu Feng, he greeted him warmly—but Chu Feng didn’t react at all, as if he couldn’t see him.

Si Qi peeled off the visibility talisman and followed the officer. Seeing the officer’s puzzled expression, he explained, “He can’t see you.”

The officer was surprised. “But just now, you two were…”

Si Qi: “I have my methods.”

The officer noticed Si Qi didn’t want to explain further, so he didn’t press. He just sighed with longing, “If someone could really see us, we wouldn’t have had to suffer so much all these years…”

Si Qi gave a sarcastic smile.

Such people do exist—but whether they were willing to help was another matter.

For example, if Si Qi wanted to profit from his ability, he’d usually take on police bounty cases or help spirits seek justice to earn rewards.

But the “Son of the World” would say, “I’ll pass on your message, but you need to give me your bank card number and password from when you were alive. I charge at least 100,000 per message—the highest bidder wins.”

As if penniless ghosts had no right to speak.

Si Qi messaged Xiu Xiu: [What’s going on with the Son of the World?]

[He’s super busy right now!] Xiu Xiu complained. [He took on a ghost-hunting mission a while ago and realized he couldn’t handle it. That’s when he tried to summon you. But not only did you not join him—you beat him half to death! Now the family who issued the mission thinks he’s backing out and trying to mess with them, so they’re furious and threatening him to show up and fix the problem! Hahaha, now he’s limping with a cane, his head wrapped in bandages, and leading a ragtag group of low-level ghosts to face a powerful ghost. He looks completely pathetic! He hasn’t even had time to notice the forum stuff.]

Originally, in the original timeline, the Son of the World subdued the Ghost King and could easily handle high-level spirits.

That family saw his real skill and immediately revered him as a master, rewarding him with millions.

Their daughter was also moved by his graceful demeanor and calmness in crisis, and later helped him connect with high society, introducing him to powerful figures and fully launching his fame…

But now, well…

Let’s just say: after getting badly injured, managing to survive the battle with the fierce ghost was already thanks to the world’s will protecting him.

Though he still got paid, the many close calls made the family think: “He’s somewhat capable, but not that impressive.” He didn’t receive millions—just a small sum. Their noble daughter also found his desperate scrambling and being chased by a ghost ridiculous and embarrassing. She wasn’t moved in the slightest and didn’t even speak to him.

Just like that, the Son of the World unknowingly lost his potential harem, his big break, and ended up happily taking a small payout to go get medical treatment.

As for the stuff happening online—he was too busy getting scans and having his cast set to care.

Si Qi: […………Alright then.]

—

The sudden appearance of the app caused a massive stir across society. Everyone was talking about it. Some even filmed footage of the police making arrests and posted excitedly:

“Oh my god, I’ve been hearing sirens all over the city all day. This is intense!”

“I’m from XX City. There was a post on the soul channel about a case in my neighborhood. That case went cold years ago—never solved. But after the post appeared, some daring young guy went to check and actually dug up a body under a tree!! Tsk tsk… The police just came to investigate, and according to the post’s description, they tracked down the victim’s boyfriend. I heard he’s already been arrested.”

“So the stuff on that forum is real?? No way—that’s terrifying!!”

“What are you afraid of if you haven’t committed any crimes? I just think it’s weird how detailed those posts are. How could someone know the case details that well? It can’t really be the victims themselves writing it, can it?”

“Come on, we’re sending rockets to space and still playing with old superstitions? Just a spooky gimmick.”

“If ‘spooky gimmicks’ can bring peace to the dead and justice to the guilty, I hope they keep doing it forever!”

“Wait! Look at the soul forum!! There’s a post labeled ‘Case Closed’!! It links to the official blog announcement saying the criminal’s been caught!”

“Wow, there really is one!”

“Damn, this is wild. Today’s drama is intense.”

“Now I’m creeped out. So all those hundreds of wrongful cases on the forum are real? And those murder victim descriptions before they died are all…”

“Hiss—chilling to the bone!”

Si Qi noticed Chu Feng reading the forum intently and smiled. “What do you think of the app?”

Chu Feng nodded. “If it helps the authorities solve cases, then it’s a good thing.”

As for it being installed without permission…

At this point, no one really cared anymore.

Si Qi raised an eyebrow. “But these posts suggest that the deceased still exist in this world as souls. Don’t you think that’s terrifying?”

Chu Feng asked in return, “Terrifying? What exactly do you mean?”

Si Qi said, “Like, ghosts possibly hurting people or something?”

Chu Feng laughed. “If they had that ability, they would’ve already taken revenge themselves.”

It was precisely because they didn’t have the ability—not even to seek justice for themselves—that they had to take a roundabout way, using the internet to expose the truth.

“Besides,” Chu Feng added casually, “someone probably just used scientific methods to gather a bunch of evidence and listed it all out at once. I don’t believe ghosts actually exist in this world.”

And there were many others who shared Chu Feng’s opinion.

In the police station, a stern-faced officer with thick brows scoffed, “It’s the 21st century, and people are still playing with feudal superstitions. There’s no such thing as ghosts!”

A young female officer was scrolling through the forum on her phone. Her voice was clear and bright as she said, “Then how do you explain this? If the victims didn’t describe it themselves, who else—besides the murderer—could know all these details? Some of the scenes don’t even have surveillance! It’s literally the definition of ‘no living witnesses.’”

The righteous officer crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Magic tricks look mysterious until they’re exposed, but they’re just visual deception and logical manipulation. These posts are the same!”

The girl laughed. “So, you don’t believe in the app?”

“As if I would!” the officer scoffed. “This app seems super suspicious to me. It might be part of some conspiracy. It’s fine to look at it, but don’t believe it too much!”

Right after he said that, his phone chimed with a beep-boop notification.

The officer casually glanced at it—and froze.

The girl asked, “What’s wrong?”

The officer didn’t know how to respond. He tapped on the screen and said, “I got a private message… from the Underworld App.”

The girl immediately perked up with interest and leaned over to take a look, reading aloud as she went: “Building 3, Unit 404, Jiangbin Road, XX District… hiding abducted children?!”

Her voice grew more surprised the further she read, and her volume rose. She couldn’t help but look up and exchange a stunned glance with the officer beside her.

She asked, “So… should we believe it?”

The officer opened his mouth, unsure what to say.

The girl slapped her forehead. “Right, you already said you don’t believe in it!”

The officer: “…………”

He mumbled, awkwardly, “Well, uh…”

The girl didn’t notice his discomfort and kept fanning the flames. “You’re always the guy who sticks to his word. So I guess you won’t be going! Weird, though. Why did the message go to your phone and not mine? I didn’t get anything. I wonder if others got a message too.”

The officer’s face turned red in anger and embarrassment. Clutching his phone, he rushed out.

The girl called after him in confusion, “Hey! Where are you going? I didn’t get to write down the address yet!”

Officer: “I’m going on patrol!”

One hour later.

After what was clearly a struggle—his temple bruised and swollen—the officer returned holding a wailing child in his arms, followed by a crowd of outraged citizens. They pushed and shoved three or four men and women who were all bruised and battered, and together they stormed into the station.

The young policewoman, still busy with paperwork, saw the scene and blurted out, “Whoa, so you were out catching human traffickers! You see? You said that app was a scam, but now you believe it, huh?”

The officer still looked a little angry, but at her words, his expression turned awkward and embarrassed. He mumbled, “I didn’t believe it—I was just patrolling, and happened to notice something suspicious… If it sends me another message, I definitely won’t—”

But before he could even finish the sentence, his phone beeped again with another ding-dong.

The girl: “…………”

The officer: “…………”

The crying child: “Waaaahhh!!”

The crowd of citizens: “Blah blah blah blah blah!!”

The scene erupted into total chaos—noisy and wild.

The girl grinned, watching the red-faced officer and teased, “You definitely what?”

The officer handed the child over to a colleague, pulled out his phone, glanced at it, and his pupils shrank. His expression turned serious.

He put the phone away, cleared his throat, and told the girl, “I definitely need to go arrest someone right now!!”

Then he dashed into the office, shouting to his overworked coworkers, “Big case just came in! A citizen tip-off—there’s a drug dealer in the XX residential area! Twenty kilos of hidden drugs!!”

His colleagues instantly snapped to attention, immediately getting ready while asking, “Who’s the citizen who reported it? Any other details?”

The officer, looking righteous with his thick brows and serious face, declared, “Reported through a mobile app! Don’t you know? The Underworld App!! The info on there is solid!!”

The others: “………………”

They thought: Even you, with your righteous face and thick brows, have switched sides?! What happened to not believing in it??

After four or five days of chaos and endless overtime, the officers finally adapted to the pace. They became agile in responding to sudden private messages and even started to enjoy it a little.

Many criminals began to sense something was off. Recently, they had all gone into hiding, and the public order visibly improved.

Online, netizens were buzzing with excitement. Their initial suspicion and annoyance gradually turned into genuine fondness and acceptance. The vibe in the human forum shifted dramatically—suddenly, it was fun and engaging.

“Original Poster: Did you guys see the official announcement? ‘A concerned citizen reported that someone was hiding drugs in XX residential area. Police apprehended them in one swift action.’”

“1st reply: Saw it! The police have been super efficient lately—one minute busting human trafficking rings, the next catching drug dealers. Shout out to our brave and hardworking officers!!”

“2nd reply: Hahaha, I thought after the Underworld App came out, the police would be busy dealing with cold cases, but turns out they’re still keeping up with public safety!”

“3rd reply (OP): Good points above! But that’s not actually what I wanted to talk about… Haven’t you noticed? There’s been an unusual number of ‘concerned citizens’ lately. Almost every official announcement includes them.”

“4th reply: Yeah, I noticed too. I saw an announcement yesterday saying a concerned citizen reported the hiding place of a murderer. The post described exactly which room in a shared dorm they were in and even where they ran during the arrest. It was like the guy chased them the whole way while calling the police—seriously bold!”

“5th reply: Ah, I know the murder case you’re talking about! I even have a video of the arrest. The guy burst into tears when he got caught, screaming, ‘I was hiding inside a wall—how did you still find me? What, do you cops read fortunes or something?’ He was so desperate, I couldn’t help but laugh!”

“6th reply: Oh oh! I know that one too!! I was there when it happened!! The police were amazing—like they had clairvoyance. They’d look at their phones and check out the most hidden places that seemed impossible for someone to hide in—and boom, they actually found the guy! I thought maybe they were accessing some kind of heaven-eye surveillance or something.”

“7th reply: To #6, I’m the one from #5. Our area is a shantytown, we don’t even have surveillance! Locals get lost here all the time—the layout is too complicated! That’s why I was so shocked the cops knew where the guy was hiding, and now I totally get why the murderer had a breakdown, hahaha.”

“…”

“37th reply (OP): I was just typing for a bit and you guys already stacked this thread so high?”

“38th reply (OP): What I wanted to say was—don’t you guys think it’s weird? Where did all these ‘concerned citizens’ suddenly come from? (Friendly reminder: that mysterious new app that just appeared lately.)”

“52nd reply (OP): Haha, no more suspense—my brother is a police officer. And he’s been grumbling to our parents at home, saying his staunch materialist beliefs are being shaken. I got curious and asked if it was because of the Underworld App. He nodded heavily, like his whole worldview had been shattered. I tried comforting him, saying maybe it’s all just someone using scientific methods to solve crimes—not necessarily ghosts involved.”

“56th reply (OP): But!! Then my brother told me, with a totally confused face, that he thinks he actually saw a ghost and even worked with it to catch a criminal!!!”

“60th reply (OP): Of course, he didn’t tell me the case details. But I can confidently guess that all these ‘clairvoyant’ concerned citizens from recent cases are probably connected to the Underworld App!!!”

“71st reply: I believe OP’s theory—because I personally experienced something like this too.”

“72nd reply: ?! What are you talking about? Smells like gossip in the air.”

“82nd reply: I’m #71. I went through something similar, though not as dangerous as catching a murderer—yesterday at noon, I passed by a parking lot near my place when my phone suddenly rang. It was a private message from the Underworld App. I didn’t even know the app had messaging features. I checked it and it said a baby was locked inside a specific red sedan, row X, slot Y. It said the baby had been trapped so long it didn’t even have the strength to cry anymore.”

“I thought the app was kinda creepy, but better safe than sorry. So I went to check. Sure enough, I peeked through the tinted window and saw a baby wrapped tightly in a blanket. It was noon, scorching hot—no way the baby could survive long. I grabbed a brick and smashed the window. The noise scared the security guard, who almost tried to arrest me! But in the end, we saved the baby together (：з」∠).”

“I was too focused on saving the baby at the time to think much. But afterward… it’s honestly terrifying. Like, how did whoever sent the message know the baby was there? Surveillance? No way—the window was too dark. And if someone else saw it, why didn’t they just act? Why message me instead? What if I’d ignored the message? What if I never saw it? What would’ve happened to that baby?”

“94th reply: Ah, actually… I got a private message too. It said a kid had fallen into a pit near a small mountain and had been trapped for two days. That place is super remote—nobody ever goes there. At first I thought maybe it was a scam or bait to lure me there, so I brought a few friends along just in case… but yeah, you guessed it—we actually found a kid in there. Poor thing had been terrified for two days, crying his eyes out when we arrived. His parents scolded him like crazy but he still clung to them begging for hugs. His mom eventually stopped hitting him and started blocking his dad instead.”

“122nd reply: Damn, this is wild. Why haven’t I gotten any private messages?”

“147th reply: This app is amazing. I’ve gone down my whole building helping people, and I feel so fulfilled.”

“188th reply (OP): Yeah, my brother’s attitude toward the Underworld App has softened a lot. I heard the station is even treating it as a formal intel source now. There’s someone assigned to monitor the forum for tips.”

“201st reply: Thank you Underworld App! My little sister was almost kidnapped after school earlier. The app messaged my mom, and she rushed over and fought the guy off, managing to take her back! My sister had already been drugged and was nearly unconscious—thank God we got there in time.”

“220th reply: Honestly, this app is amazing. I just don’t get why the developer insists on wrapping it up in all this spooky ghost stuff. Why not just say it’s to help people? Then there wouldn’t have been so much controversy.”

“234th reply: OMG! Did you guys see the pinned post on the Underworld Forum?? If not, go look right now! It’s blowing my mind!!”

The Underworld App had become the hottest topic in society. Any new update or movement instantly drew nationwide attention.

Police had also taken notice of the newly pinned post. After reading it, their expressions turned serious. The director gathered everyone for a meeting, handing out printed copies of the post for careful analysis.

“About the app creator claiming that ghosts are real, and that all the posts on the Underworld Forum are the direct testimonies of victims… What are your thoughts?”

The director, nearly 50 years old, frowned deeply and looked solemnly at his officers.

The room was dead silent. Some exchanged uneasy glances; others stared intently at the documents. No one spoke up.