The blood-soaked, brutal scenes kept unfolding, leaving everyone deeply shaken.
Many people around us had collapsed to the floor, at a loss.
No one stopped the man.
The injured man who had been lying on the ground, just attacked by the child, stirred. He gasped for breath with his mouth open, and only after the child had been smashed into a pulp did he manage to force out a hoarse sound.
"Don't... no... sob..."
"They've gone mad." The man held the broken chair without wiping the blood from his face. He spoke woodenly. "They've all gone mad. They're killing people... All these kids have gone crazy."
"That's my son... that's my son..." The injured man wept bitterly, reaching out toward the child's body.
"No, they're not anymore. They're all ghosts! They've all turned into monsters!" The man raised his voice and began to howl.
I looked at the corpse on the floor, then at Han Yun's figure crouched beside it. That thing reached out toward the body, touched a little blood, brought it close to inspect, then reached out again. This time, it pulled something out of the corpse.
He lifted the child's ghost into the air.
After a brief daze, the child's eyes moved, settling on the person who had killed him.
He glared at the man. A syringe formed from yin energy appeared in his hand, and he jabbed it toward the man.
The man cried out and stumbled backward, turning his head as he searched for whatever was attacking him.
His expression gradually changed, growing more and more terrified.
His bizarre movements made the people around him look at him strangely.
The floors above were still in chaos. Screams and sobs rang out from all over the building.
With a thud, someone else fell from an upper-floor