Ghostly figures were everywhere, yin corpses everywhere.
The yin energy in this world surged to the heavens. There was not the slightest trace of living aura, as though they had entered a world of departed souls.
Little Fatty was an Illusionist. He had never entered a Night Wanderer instance dungeon and had never seen such a sight before. His calves cramped uncontrollably, and his lips trembled slightly.
In this bizarre and terrifying world, with pale, horrifying ghost faces and densely packed yin corpses lining the streets, any Level Four Saint would be afraid to enter such a hellhole.
Fire Masters excluded.
Dark Night Rose had realized the authorities were fishing, so she played along? Amid his fear, Little Fatty also grasped the crux of the matter. Yuanshi Tianzun had set him up.
To "eat" a Saint like him, there was no need for such a grand operation.
Little Fatty grew even more pessimistic, believing that the Southern Faction and the authorities had been played by Dark Night Rose.
"Woo woo."
A shrill, mournful flute melody drifted from between the towering buildings, echoing through the night.
The blank ghost faces behind the windows and the stunned yin corpses by the street came alive at the sound of the flute. The former passed through the glass and transformed into a vast, surging yin wind that swept toward them.
The latter let out low "heh heh" growls from their throats and charged forward like zombies, scrambling over one another.
Little Fatty's heart turned cold, and fear flashed through his eyes. As an Illusionist, he could not handle so many resentful spirits, let alone with yin corpses mixed in.
Moreover, these resentful spirits and yin corpses were all of high quality—and they were still pouring out endlessly from buildings in every direction.
There were