The East District Security personnel serving the Jingtuo God, the Security squad Wan Jie had led back from Xinhu, countless Ghost Story Players, Gao Yun's Student Council, and the fragmented Gao Mings—all of Hanhai's "thugs" and "troublemakers" had gathered in two apartment complexes. Even the "gods" were overwhelmed.
These Security personnel and Ghost Story Players were the elite of the elite. They had survived countless brushes with death and kept plenty of trump cards in reserve. Even after losing some of their memories and the abilities granted by ghost creatures, they were still difficult to deal with.
The two clay sculptures had originally joined forces against Gao Ming, leaving him no chance to resist. But now a hole had been torn in their net.
More and more people inside the Xiangshengyong Apartments were alerted by Painter Gao Ming, though most hid in their homes, secretly watching through peepholes and cracks in their doors.
As time passed, the residents' memories began to suffer. The terrifying sensation of gradually forgetting who they were forced them to find ways to save themselves.
Painter Gao Ming had less stamina than Zhuo Jun. After running for another few minutes, he simply could not keep going.
Once Zhuo Jun catches me, not only will I die, but I won't be able to protect the clay sculpture either... The brush in his hand was like a carving knife. Painter Gao Ming dipped it in paint mixed with his own blood and jabbed it hard against the clay sculpture's eyes.
In that instant, every pattern painted on the clay sculpture seemed to come alive, burrowing frantically into it.
A fine, cobweb-like network of blood vessels also emerged on the clay sculpture's skin. The curse Painter Gao Ming had poured all his strength into seeped into its heart.
"My