At this moment, within the intermittent wailing and deadly silence, a sudden cold wind billowed from down the long street.
In the car, Tong Shan was stunned momentarily, feeling the terrifying pressure exerted by the people surrounding them and the external force pressing upon the force field. It had, astonishingly, halted in place.
No, it was not just a halt—it was as if they instinctively wanted to retreat...
In the foul, cold wind, blood-stained white garments fluttered like specters.
Dancing in hunger.
The Ghost Shadow lying on the hood moved stiffly, staring blankly at that unfamiliar face, hard to distinguish.
It was simply impossible to clearly see his face.
It was as if countless figures overlapped together, sometimes resembling burning corpses, at times like blood-bathed evil spirits, occasionally rotting to reveal white bones, and sometimes stitched densely, crisscrossing.
Thick blood slowly seeped from beneath the stitches, tracing cruel curves with a joyous smile.
