Even someone as shrewd as Hou Guisheng had no confidence. He did not even know how likely his conjecture was to succeed.
His theory that the Dark Green Space had an underground level rested entirely on the apparent way the heads devoured blood after being planted in the ground. It was an exceptionally one-sided analysis.
The only clue supporting it was his belief that, since the ghost was using heads to search for something, and the heads aboveground were shattered, whatever it sought could only be underground.
Namely, the roots that spread after a head was buried.
The closer Hou Guisheng's head came to the dust-covered ground, the harder it became for him to remain lucid.
There were too many strange things, too many unanswerable questions that still had no answers.
He was not worried about dying, because the Asphalt Ghost would withstand the first round of attacks for him no matter what.
If his conjecture proved correct, it would be an extraordinary opportunity. But if it failed, what awaited Hou Guisheng would be death beyond all hope of salvation.
Because, in truth, he was already helpless prey waiting to be slaughtered. Even his Sin Objects were on his headless body, no longer his to control.
His head sank lower and lower. Slowly, he lost even his sense of temperature. Light became irrelevant, and a long shadow took the place of his field of vision.
Hou Guisheng saw his own shadow. Its headless outline covered a broad stretch of ground, compressing his vision until it held nothing else.
Inside his mind, another figure thrashed wildly, twisting like mad as it swallowed his independent consciousness.
There were clearly two different supernatural auras, yet even with senses as keen as Hou Guisheng's, he had still detected no trace of the ghost within