Only three hours had passed since Gao Ming returned to Hanhai, but notifications had already reached all thirty-seven Investigation Offices across its major districts, sixteen large companies under the Three Great Chambers of Commerce, one hundred and twelve Ghost Story Player bases, and seventeen major civilian Self-Rescue Organizations.
A fine drizzle fell that day. The sky remained overcast, and black fog still hung in the air. It was no different from any ordinary day, yet something about the city's atmosphere seemed to have changed.
There were far fewer pedestrians on the streets. The shadows were spreading more slowly, and all the faces that regularly appeared on television had vanished. Many programs were rerunning old content.
The Ghost Story Player Rankings, which had been updated continuously for nearly a hundred days, stopped updating. Far fewer people were posting on the forums, too, as though everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something.
"Smack!"
A rotting rat rolled its eyes and stood upright like a human. A stray cat perched on a garbage bin had fixed its sights on it, but there was not a trace of fear in its eyes.
Driven frantic by hunger, the cat pounced, only to let out a shriek a moment later. The rat bit a festering wound into the cat's neck and burrowed all the way inside.
A few seconds later, a faint stench of decay began to emanate from the stray cat. A red glow shone in its eyes as it ran out of the back alley and stared at the somewhat deserted street.
Similar scenes played out across Hanhai, and a barely perceptible stench of decay drifted into room after room.
Deep in the Shadow World, the Flesh-and-Blood Ghost God, whose body had partially recovered, carried Gao Ming on his back through the streets