Black fog descended without a sound, as though night had fallen over Hanhai, quietly swallowing everyone.
All the Security personnel near the station had heard Gao Ming's name, but none of them had expected him to appear like this.
The Bus, coated in a special exterior paint, drove along the highway and finally stopped a few meters from Jingtuo God. Its headlights went out. Gao Ming released the steering wheel, and a masked Ghost Story Player took his place in the driver's seat.
The door creaked open, shedding flakes of rust, and Gao Ming stepped out.
"Which junkyard did you dig this thing out of?" Jingtuo God smelled the strange odor coming from inside. No, more precisely, the Bus itself carried a foul stench that could never be removed.
"My people are all here." Gao Ming's voice was calm. He looked as though he had been forced to attend a company team-building event—not exactly happy, but neither nervous nor afraid.
"Since everyone's here, let's set off together. The longer we delay, the less chance the people in Xiao'an Town have of surviving." Jingtuo God lifted the Lone Lamp, had his subordinates push Wan Jie, and took the lead.
The burning lamp gave off a strange smell, and faint screams drifted from inside it. Gao Ming glanced toward Jingtuo God. "How many people did you render down for oil to light that?"
The surrounding Security personnel's expressions darkened. They had been deliberately avoiding the subject.
The light inside the lampshade was hardly dazzling, nor did it offer the slightest warmth. Coming close to it instead brought a strange, hair-raising sensation.
The eyeball planted in Zhang Ding's socket seemed deep and pitch-black, yet it also held a light—a deeply unsettling light. Was that Dream Ghost's ability related to light?
Gao Ming beckoned,