The scream was piercing, making my heart tremble along with it.
After the brief shock, I saw the faces of the skinny man and the fat man.
Both wore worried expressions as they stared intently at me.
This wasn't the first time I'd seen this scene.
I rubbed my throbbing temples, then pressed my palms against my ears. The scream still echoed in my head, a demonic sound pouring into my brain, impossible to shake off.
The skinny man handed me some water.
I gulped down several mouthfuls before I began to feel a little better.
I let out a breath and told the skinny man and the fat man everything I'd just seen.
To be precise, those scenes weren't illusions. They were things that had really happened. They'd just happened at times and places far removed from me. The mark Mingsite had left behind had let me see events that had taken place in the past and present, in another corner of the city.
Unlike in a dream, I hadn't formed any emotional connection with those strangers. I was just an observer. And after experiencing so many supernatural events, I was no longer afraid of this kind of death.
I recounted it all rationally, then added my own analysis at the end.
"Mingsite and the Ghost King must have come into conflict. It's just that I can't quite understand some of Mingsite's behavior. Even if her existence, her consciousness, was being influenced and changed by the Ghost King... wouldn't it actually make little difference?" I thought of that future world.
The guide in Huixiang and Song Zang, the taxi driver, had both feared death when they were alive. They'd fought against it, and only became ghosts—and then Ghost Kings—after they failed.
Luo Mu might not have fought back, but