Gao Ming and the Flesh-and-Blood Ghost God were both very pleased with Fan Li. He would provide the Flesh-and-Blood Immortal with a steady supply of the highest-quality Willpower Energy. The harder the living struggled in desperate circumstances, the happier the god would be.
Of course, from the perspective of fate, the so-called god was merely struggling desperately as well.
"How does he always manage to find people with such enormous potential?" Deep inside the Execution House, Situ An felt a little envious. He had witnessed the entire process of the Flesh-and-Blood Ghost God treating Fan Li. "Could he be Fate itself? Gao Ming, fate... I'm trying to think. Stop moving the chains around."
Situ An's mother held the chains up, seemingly worried that the chains engraved with Divine Patterns would rub against his wounds.
"Mama's boy." Xia Yang wandered nearby with a paintbrush in his hand, smiling at Situ An. Who knew what he was plotting?
The Execution House was growing livelier by the day, and even space was becoming scarce.
"The people from the Investigation Bureau should be coming soon." Gao Ming stretched, took a list from his pocket, and tore out the page bearing Fan Li's name before setting it alight. "Who's next?"
The several districts of Hanhai's old city had large populations. Gao Ming, Zhang Ding, and the others dared not rest for even a moment. They wanted to take over the entire area before the Investigation Bureau arrived.
Operating under the name of Ghost Story Players, they followed the list Gao Ming had provided, using strange tales to save people from strange tales.
Gao Ming's chances of successfully fighting fate alone were infinitesimally close to zero. But through death after death, he had seized every shred of hope he had seen in the future.
He had