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... asin burned there, throwing off a spooky light.

In its shine, they could just make out a figure in white mourning clothes, tossing money bills into the flames.

The sight hit hard. “Another… another freaking Specter?!”

Things went from rough to end-of-the-world bad. Blood Handprints and Shadow Killers behind them, this mourning weirdo ahead—they were stuck right in the middle.

While the others locked up, Fang Xiu didn’t flinch. He walked straight toward the mourner ...

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With an upright face and long and toned legs, the instructor overall has a striking and abstinent impression.

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But room is so dead and quiet as if there hasn’t been any trace of any living person.

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