Pressure

And... at some point, things had started to turn out differently from how he had imagined. The situation was changing, and the change centered on a man named Wang Fugui.

Could... he be a disciple too?

But why did he feel so different from the others?

Lin Muyun was very perceptive. Even with Xia Qiang, who had hidden it very well, he could still sense the despair and savagery seeping from deep within the man's body, even his soul.

But Wang Fugui gave him a different feeling. He seemed like an ordinary person. Stranger still, standing near the man somehow put him at ease.

Once Wang Fugui took over holding the desk lamp, the group made much better time.

He led everyone in carefully avoiding the areas where the ghosts could sense them. If there was no way around one, they didn't turn back and take a long detour. Instead, he warned everyone to stay alert, then used the light to clear a path, driving back the ghostly figures hidden in the fog.

No one doubted the fat man's abilities anymore. Excitement showed on Yuan Xiaotian's face. "We're on the fourth floor. Once we get down three more floors, we can leave!"

"I say we make a run for it. If we run into any ghosts, we just drive them back. Time is what matters most right now!" Yuan Xiaotian continued.

Feng Jie was carrying someone on his back, his sweat-soaked hair stuck to his forehead. He warily scanned their surroundings and spoke between shallow breaths. "It's not that simple. Haven't you noticed? Every time we clash with a ghost, we're the ones who run into it. It looks like we've driven them back, but they haven't lost anything. Meanwhile, the light on our side keeps getting dimmer."

"Every collision