Nothing was more spectacular than fate's collapse.
Everyone and every ghost had struggled to look forward to that moment, but when that thing truly arrived, had it really been what they wished for?
Void. Still that same void.
A tear opened in the pitch-black sky, and fate descended in layer upon layer as threads, winding around the frozen humans and ghosts.
No matter how powerful the beings in this space had once been outside, they could not so much as struggle, left exposed beneath the opening in the sky.
An indescribable sensation emerged. At first, it was like a gentle breeze and fine rain, but upon closer reflection, it stirred the soul.
It was not a sharp force, nor did it contain the slightest malice. It approached slowly, rippling outward.
Yet it was a pool of stagnant water. As it drew near, every drop seeped with an inexplicable, bizarre nature, stirring a genuine terror that could no longer be restrained.
Li Guanqi had initially gotten what he wanted. He had escaped death, but who could have known that such a secret lay behind fate?
Only when that secret was exposed did he realize that fate was merely the most insignificant thing here.
He could not move, still holding the pose of looking up at the sky with blood flowing from his seven orifices. The lingering attachment in his eyes had yet to fade.
But when that pool of "stagnant water" flowed over his entire body, he distinctly caught the thick scent of death.
The store clerks often said, "I smell a ghost's presence. I can sense the smell of death..."
It was an instinct cultivated through countless cycles of life and death, through being steeped time and again in an atmosphere of the paranormal.
But Li Guanqi could clearly sense