"Ding-ling-ling..."
The moment Ji Li stepped out, he suddenly heard a string of pleasant, light brass bell chimes ringing from the far end of the corridor.
Along the wall near the final room, 418, two tall, thin ghostly figures had appeared out of thin air, walking side by side. Each held a tattered Oil-paper Umbrella against the ceiling, scraping off flakes of plaster as they advanced, as though snow were falling.
Their attire resembled that of the ghost messengers currently lying inside the Bronze Ancient Coffin, but differed as well. It was not merely that the giant axes in their hands had become Oil-paper Umbrellas—the color of their masks had changed from white to black.
Behind those two ghost messengers, another two emerged from the wall.
These two no longer held paper umbrellas. Each carried two thick, long Water-Fire Cudgels, while the masks on their faces had changed from white to red.
And it was not just these four. From the stairwell on the other side of the corridor came three continuous strikes of brass bells.
Two blue-faced ghost messengers holding command plaques high walked at the front. Behind them stood a white-faced ghost messenger dragging a giant axe on the left side of the formation, the axe scraping against the floor so loudly it nearly drowned out the bells.
In a corridor less than twenty meters long, seven ghost messengers had appeared out of nowhere. All of them pressed against the ceiling, their faces concealed by masks, making it impossible to see their expressions or know what they were watching.
But one thing was now clear: at eight-thirty every evening, a large number of ghost messengers would appear in Rose Hotel, sealing off the floors and conducting inspections.
The seven ghost messengers braced against the ceiling kept shaking their