They were surrounded by eerie figures holding up burial shrouds.
The dozen or so novice Netherworld Messengers stared wide-eyed, panting nervously, despair appearing on every face.
At that moment, Zhao Xiaodong seemed to finally confirm something.
He shouted, "Follow me!"
With that, he charged toward a nearby house and kicked its gate open.
Everyone hesitated. They had clearly tried this before. Even if they hid in these houses, the Shroud Ghosts would still follow them. Would going inside do any good?
But they had no other choice.
The group could only follow.
"You few, hold the gate shut. Old Yang, Zhao Qian, come with me!" Zhao Xiaodong instructed.
There was naturally some selfishness in this arrangement. Even if the gate was breached, his two classmates would not be the first to die.
"Smash it!"
He pointed at the well sealed with cement.
Yang Zhi stared at him. "Xiaodong, have you lost your mind?!"
The well had been sealed up. One look was enough to tell that something was seriously wrong with it.
Zhao Qian, however, looked utterly fearless. "Heh, that's crazy enough. Zhao Xiaodong, you're starting to remind me a little of Jiang Chen back then."
At that name, Zhao Xiaodong's expression stiffened.
He recalled that night again, that incredibly eerie sight of the man pressed against the Back-Sticking Ghost's back.
"You can only say that because you haven't seen the truly terrifying things he's done." Zhao Xiaodong shook his head, his expression complicated.
Then he took out the knife he carried, gripped it in reverse, and stabbed it hard into the well cover.
"Quick! Stop hesitating!"
He shouted at the top of his lungs.
The courtyard gate was shaking constantly now. Several C-Class Netherworld Messengers had their backs pressed against it, desperately holding it shut.
"All right, Xiaodong, I'll