"What do you mean?" The fat man looked at Jiang Cheng's words as if there might still be a way out for him.
"Are Zhang Junyu, Lei Mingyu, and A Biao really dead?" Jiang Cheng asked. "They killed three high-level players in a little over an hour. Just how difficult is this mission?"
"We haven't even reached the end of the mission yet. Our identities as corpse collectors haven't been activated, and we haven't come face-to-face with the River Goddess. If the mission is already this difficult, I can't imagine we have any chance of surviving what comes next," Jiang Cheng analyzed.
Hearing this, the fat man's eyes lit up. "So... Doctor, you mean the first three aren't dead?"
"I can't be sure, but it's very likely." Jiang Cheng furrowed his brows and spoke as he thought. "I think... the three of them must be trapped, waiting."
"Waiting for what?" The fat man was so anxious he urged him to hurry up.
Jiang Cheng looked up at the fat man's deeply troubled face. "Waiting for you to go and start the real mission."
The Wu Family Ancestral Hall.
The fat man stared at the paper figure's face he had drawn, on the verge of tears. It wasn't just that it looked nothing like the corpse's face—it had absolutely nothing to do with it.
"Creak—"
A strange sound suddenly rang out inside the ancestral hall, like someone walking and stepping on a rotting floorboard.
Even with Jiang Cheng's words in mind, hearing about something and experiencing it firsthand were two completely different things.
What terrified him even more was that, not long ago, a gust of wind had blown the curtain between the rooms aside, letting him see what was happening in Room No. 3 next door.
He saw A Biao's