Shuyang

621 Shuyang

"I'm merely a fallen, wrongfully dead soul. You carry the scent of my kind. Have you come to uphold justice for me?" A strange voice was indirectly transmitted into Zhao Xiaojie's heart through [Demon Spirit: Black-Robed Strategist].

A sharp light flickered in Zhao Xiaojie's eyes amid the darkness. He fixed his gaze on the shadowy figure and lightly shook the folding fan in his hand. An invisible ripple silently spread outward.

"Show yourself, Death Gate God." Zhao Xiaojie's voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable command.

The shadow slowly emerged from the darkness, revealing a pale, twisted face. Its eyes were hollow, as though it had lost its soul. A bone-chilling aura radiated from its body, making one shudder with fear.

"Who are you? How dare you disturb my peace?" Death Gate God's voice was hoarse and hollow, as though it had come from a grave.

It seemed to have lost most of its sanity. Its speech was incoherent.

It repeated only those few lines over and over. Zhao Xiaojie patiently watched its stiff performance. He did not make a move, and he maintained a safe distance.

He dragged things out until dawn was nearly upon them, then turned around and left.

Death Gate God also slowly retreated into the darkness and hid itself again. During the day, the negative aura it released grew faint as well, making it difficult to detect.

Zhao Xiaojie returned and continued investigating.

Someone had wanted to raise it, but their methods had been far too crude.

After weathering countless storms, and with quite a few trump cards at his disposal now, he was temporarily unafraid of an existence like this Demon Spirit.

Zhao Xiaojie returned to the shop with his brows tightly furrowed, puzzled by Death Gate God's behavior. He felt that