One miserable wail after another rang out, like funeral bells from the Nine Nether Hell.
They echoed through the entirety of Mogui Alley for a long time.
At times, they sounded like ten thousand ghosts weeping in unison; at others, like wronged souls shrieking, mixed with a bone-chilling sound of gnawing.
It was as though countless unnameable things were struggling bitterly in the darkness, desperate to escape yet unable to break free.
At the mouth of the alley, the bearded big man, his group, the guards, and the coachmen had long since gone pale.
The branches and leaves of that century-old locust tree shook violently under the waves of sound. Before the fallen leaves could touch the ground, they were shredded into powder by an invisible force.
The cracks between the trunk and the walls had long been sealed tight by crimson, blood-red Gang essence.
Not even a fly could dream of escaping Mogui Alley.
"Boss... this..." A burly man in black spoke in a trembling voice and unconsciously took half a step back.
They had been ordered to lie in ambush here for over a month, yet they had never heard such horrifying commotion coming from the alley.
The bearded big man's Adam's apple bobbed incessantly, while bead-sized drops of cold sweat continued to seep from his forehead.
More than anyone, he knew what was hidden in this seemingly ordinary alley.
They were "Ghostly Things" that even their master, whose hands reached the heavens, feared to some extent.
Just last week, twelve capable men had died merely clearing the rotting corpses spilling out from the alley entrance...
At this moment, golden and crimson light could vaguely be seen flashing alternately behind the thick trunk of the ancient locust tree.
Each time the crimson-gold radiance swelled, those howls of ghosts