Second by second, time passed.
Huang Yaozu and Li Guoqiang hid in the second-floor monitoring room, staring fixedly at the scene in the lobby.
Li Guoqiang's palms were drenched in cold sweat, while Huang Yaozu took out his flask again.
The lobby remained noisy.
Until half an hour later.
The police station's glass doors were pushed open.
A delivery rider in a yellow vest walked in.
He carried a bagged boxed meal in one hand. His steps were stiff, and his heels barely left the ground.
The glutinous rice in the corner of the lobby instantly blackened and charred.
Uncle Feng hid around the stairway corner, gripping the Peachwood Sword tightly.
The delivery rider neither headed toward the reception desk nor looked at the people around him.
His eyes were unfocused. Murky whites filled most of them, and a deathly gray lingered in their depths.
He walked straight toward the corridor on the other side of the lobby.
That was the direction of the restrooms.
Li Guoqiang happened to push open the restroom door. With his head lowered, he was about to splash some water on his face to clear his mind.
The delivery rider's gaze instantly locked onto Li Guoqiang.
He dropped the boxed meal and quickened his pace.
His stiff arm slowly rose.
Pale fingers spread open and slapped straight toward Li Guoqiang's shoulder.
Hearing the movement, Li Guoqiang jerked his head up.
Their eyes met.
Li Guoqiang's pupils instantly shrank to pinpoints, and his heart pounded wildly.
He recognized those grayish-white eyes.
That ghost had changed skins and come after him again!
His legs felt filled with lead. Li Guoqiang wanted to retreat, but he could not move even a single step.
The pale fingers were less than five centimeters from Li Guoqiang's shoulder.
At that critical