The fake Zhang Wei kicked wildly in midair, both hands clawing desperately at Yang Jian's ghost hand.
The terror, grievance, and agony of impending suffocation were written vividly across his face.
He looked no different from a real, living person.
Even the corners of his eyes spilled two involuntary tears brought on by suffocation.
Seeing that all-too-familiar face twisted into such a desperate, pleading expression, Yang Jian's gaze wavered despite himself.
The illusion of killing his closest friend with his own hands was enough to shatter anyone's reason.
But he faltered for only an instant.
"A fake is still a fake."
The flicker in Yang Jian's eyes gave way to cold ruthlessness, and the paranormal power of his ghost hand erupted!
Crack!
The sound of snapping neck bones set everyone's teeth on edge.
No blood sprayed out.
The instant the fake Zhang Wei's neck broke, all color seemed to drain from his body.
Then came what followed.
With an exceptionally crisp sound of shattering glass.
The fake Zhang Wei, who had possessed a body of flesh and blood, broke apart like a shattered mirror.
He shattered in midair into countless transparent fragments radiating an icy chill, which clattered to the ground.
The real Zhang Wei stepped forward, his face full of disgust, and ground his shoe hard against the glass fragments several times.
"Pah! You dared imitate Brother Wei's handsome face? What a joke!"
Seeing that this supernatural ordeal had finally been resolved, He Yin'er let out a long breath from behind them.
Meanwhile, Huang Ziya, Hu Liena, and Yan, who had been hiding at the back all along, had turned deathly pale.
Hu Liena bit down hard on her bloodless lips, the overwhelming sense of helplessness inside her threatening to swallow her whole.
They had barely escaped the Ghost