The room was utterly silent, without a hint of noise.
Yan Junze stood at the doorway, first glancing around before spreading his hands and saying into the darkness, "I mean no harm, and moreover, your death has nothing to do with me."
While talking, his eyes widened, straining to discern which area of the darkness was the most suspicious.
A moment later, Yan Junze's gaze settled on the upper right corner of the room.
It was still pitch-black, but one could feel another mass of darkness flowing there, slowly moving.
He didn't turn on his phone flashlight to shine there, for fear it would anger this ill-tempered creature.
No sound replied.
Yan Junze knew that Yao Long might no longer be able to speak; he did not expect a response.
Still standing at the doorway, he sighed softly, leaning on the door.
"I sympathize with you; you truly are pitiable. All the misfortunes in life have befallen you, but none of it is your fault."
Whoo—
