"Angus?" Hao Ren recognized the man a short distance ahead from behind at a glance. The short, pudgy figure and slightly balding back of his head were hard to forget. So he's the one behind all this?
At that moment, Angus still hadn't noticed the commotion behind him. His attention was focused entirely on the dark stone wall in front of him. The wall abruptly blocked the tunnel, turning it into a dead end. Angus was pressed against it, anxiously feeling around as if trying to find some mechanism or hidden passage, but judging from the look of things, his efforts were futile. No one knew how long he had been fussing around here.
Angus wore a miner's lamp on his head and carried a strange black box on his back. It looked like a large speaker with its own power supply. Clearly, he hadn't wandered in here by accident—he had come prepared. Thinking of the strange noises that had repeatedly come from the little chapel earlier, as well as the fact that Angus had been the first person to report the "haunted castle" incident, even Hao Ren should have figured out what was going on. He walked forward two steps, no longer concealing the sound of his footsteps, and finally caught Angus's attention. The short, pudgy innkeeper shuddered violently at the noise behind him, then froze on the spot as if struck by lightning. Hao Ren and the other two patiently waited several seconds before Angus finally turned his head around, trembling like a wooden puppet that hadn't been oiled in half a year.
The miner's lamp swept across the pitch-black tunnel. A strange mass of roiling black mist that refused to disperse surged before Angus. How could an ordinary person's worldview possibly accept such a sight? The innkeeper