The moon was dark, the wind fierce, and corpses lay everywhere.
Fang Shenyan stood beneath the moonlight in black, holding a dripping head in one hand as he looked down at the stairs leading into the darkness below.
"Cackle, cackle, cackle..."
A bone-chilling laugh faintly echoed behind him, sharp enough to pierce the soul.
He extended his right hand, pulled his fingers from the head's eye sockets, and tossed it down the descending stairs as if bowling.
Soft tissue struck hard stone steps with terrifying little sounds, while the ghost behind him drew ever closer.
Fang Shenyan remained unmoved, watching only as the head rapidly rolled down the stairs until it vanished into pitch-black darkness.
The moment the head disappeared, he narrowed his eyes and leapt down after it, vanishing into the first floor as well.
Just as he left, someone kicked open the front doors of the Southern Office Building, followed by a jumble of footsteps.
Perhaps because so many people had arrived, the countless ghosts hidden within the building began to stir, and even the endless resentful spirits amid the river of blood could no longer remain quiet.
At the same time, figures climbed in through windows at the building's other entrances that were not technically entrances.
Among them, White Wolf from Branch No. 9 was the one closest to the First Basement Level—and to Fang Shenyan.
The room was pitch-black. Scattered documents covered the floor, and a trail of bloody footprints stretched in from outside the door to beneath the desk.
White Wolf's short, stout body made not the slightest sound. His vicious face lurked in the gloom like a wolf lying in wait, his sharp gaze fixed on the bloody handprints.
"Cackle, cackle, cackle..."
Suddenly, an ear-piercing, terrifying laugh came from behind the overturned desk, along