The vengeful spirits behind Zhang Yifeng reached out, scrambling over one another.
Together with Shen Wangshu, they grabbed Zhang Yifeng and dragged him toward the phone booth.
Zhang Yifeng tried to resist, his eyes bulging as he struggled desperately.
His feet scraped trails across the ground.
A shrill scream came from inside the blood mass. As if summoned, it charged toward Luo Mu.
Luo Mu had his eyes closed and didn't sense the danger at all.
The woman lifted her eyes and raised a hand. Her lips moved as she murmured something.
The blood mass stopped in front of her palm.
I heard a strange laugh from beneath the woman's skirt.
There was no wind, but the hem of her skirt fluttered. Something crawled out from underneath.
It was a doll...
Not the cursed doll Wu Ling had taken out, but a much rougher rag doll. Its eyes seemed to have fallen out, and its mouth had been sewn shut with thick red thread. It wore a gray dress much like the witch's. Strips of black cloth for hair streamed behind its head.
It leaped up and instantly opened its gaping maw.
The thick threads snapped. I saw its head split almost in half. Inside its mouth was nothing but blackness, like a black hole.
The blood mass screamed again.
It was being devoured.
"Ahhh!" Zhang Yifeng let out an angry roar.
His body was already a bloody mess, covered in scratches from the vengeful spirits' nails.
He braced himself, but his upper body had already been pulled into the phone booth.
Shen Wangshu bit off a chunk of flesh from the back of Zhang Yifeng's neck and swallowed it. Then she opened her mouth again and bit into the wound.
"Ahhh—" Zhang Yifeng roared as his body was dragged