The instant it snapped, the force sent the vengeful ghost flying more than twenty meters, slamming it into the wild grass beside the dirt road.
The moment the mourning-clad supernatural cleared the front of the bus-
The rusty door valves hissed, and both doors swiftly closed toward the center.
The engine roared dully again, and the Ghost Bus resumed its journey, leaving the piercing sobs far behind.
Deathly silence returned to the bus.
Yu Tianheng hurried back to his seat and looked at his bloodied right hand.
Of his ten fingers, only four remained intact, while the broken fingers twisted unnaturally.
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead. Gasping for breath, he immediately channeled the soul power in his body around the breaks and began slowly healing his injuries.
Ning Rongrong was in no better shape.
She quickly withdrew the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda, now covered in flesh and skin, and slumped against her seat.
As the Ghost Bus continued moving, its peculiar suppressive force descended once more, gradually forcing the Ghost Skin's revival back down.
But Ning Rongrong knew perfectly well that after that ordeal, she could not use even a trace of paranormal power for at least the next five hours.
Otherwise, she would immediately die from evil ghost revival.
If another ghost stops the bus, we're dead, Ning Rongrong thought.
She turned toward the seat beside her.
Zhao Lei lay slumped in his seat, his eyes shut, seemingly motionless.
"Did those sobs kill him?" Ning Rongrong frowned slightly.
If Zhao Lei died, the supernatural inside him would revive, leaving them with a ticking time bomb right beside them.
She reached out and checked his breathing.
A faint breath brushed her fingertips.
He was still alive.
But just as Ning Rongrong withdrew her hand, she noticed that the