Wei Yanchi had intended to step forward, but in the next second, Mr. 39 dissipated like smoke. It was merely a phantom left behind as Mr. 39 passed through.
"What did you just see?" Zhang Ninde asked from behind him.
"A shadow."
Zhang Ninde patted his shoulder. "There are shadows everywhere here."
In other words, there were ghosts everywhere.
As mentioned earlier, this was an old city, one that had survived from the War Era to the present.
Although they were in the future, as time advanced, all kinds of ghosts began appearing. Even the ghosts that would only appear before them on nights of the full moon were running rampant here.
They now had only two options: survive through their own abilities, or survive on clues provided by the players in the past. Without either, all they could do was wait to die.
Those ghosts all came from people who had died unexpectedly in the past. In fact, if they disregarded the ghosts' hostility toward them, they could easily deduce the tragedies of the past from the ghosts themselves.
This city had been the original battlefield.
The spirits of those who had died here had all but turned it into a ghost city, with traces of people from the past everywhere.
Wei Yanchi walked forward expressionlessly. Following his deductions from the terrain and the traces of two armies fighting each other, he arrived at an abandoned church in the city.
The first thing he saw upon entering was a statue of Jesus suffering on the cross. Behind the statue was exquisitely crafted stained glass, dreamlike when the sunlight shone through it.
He went forward and picked up the drafts of poems scattered across the floor. None of the words were legible anymore.
A priest spoke.
"This is a