The Gate of Heaven

There was a huge wound across the corpse's waist, almost splitting it in two.

It was Mr. Qin, who had still been full of life just a few minutes ago.

Even more bizarrely, the half of his face turned slightly to the side showed little fear. Instead, it wore a strange look of bliss, as if he had seen the gates of heaven.

As one of the few members of the Qin family who could hold his own, Mr. Qin was naturally a disciple. Yet he had died without anyone knowing how, and the others present hadn't even caught a glimpse of their opponent.

"That thing is hiding in the fog. We need to find a way to make it disperse," someone said warily. He didn't need to say it; many of them could already sense that something was wrong with the fog. It was cutting off their senses.

"I'll do it. Keep your distance," volunteered the elderly man surnamed Huang.

The others moved back, forming a perimeter around him and guarding the elderly man, Officer Wu, and several others at the center.

The elderly man surnamed Huang slowly closed his eyes. But a few seconds later, when he opened them again, his pupils had vanished completely, leaving only empty whites. There was no emotion in them, as if he were a corpse that had been dead for a long time.

At the same time, a gust of wind sprang up out of nowhere beside the old man.

The wind came from nowhere, and it grew increasingly fierce. Those around him could barely keep their footing.

Strangely, though, the wind seemed to affect only people. The fallen leaves and weeds on the ground, as well as the surrounding trees, showed no sign of being moved.

"It's moving!" cried a man