The desolate city fell deathly silent after nightfall. Its once-brilliant neon lights were out, trash littered the streets, and a rotten stench drifted from the alleys. No one emptied the overflowing garbage bins. The place seemed to have become a dead city.
Pairs of terrified eyes could just be seen inside the houses on either side.
Jiya had almost completely fallen. Even the authorities had stopped issuing statements. Everyone with money or power had paid a steep price to flee to the Four Great Nations and save their lives. Those left behind could only wait to die.
Thud, thud.
Clear footsteps rang out along the street.
Ordinary people covered their mouths and held their breath, the fear on their faces growing deeper.
They were here. They were here again!
Strange, unknown figures crawled across the buildings. A man dragging something came around the street corner. He had black hair and black eyes, one hand tucked in his pocket, and a calm, expressionless face.
Four mysterious figures floated behind him, wearing hideous masks of gods and demons, like ghostly deities descended upon the world.
Countless bizarre shadows surged like a tide from the hammer he dragged.
The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons!
Wails and screams tore through the night sky. Terror and despair engulfed the entire city.
Beneath countless gazes filled with awe and fear, the uncanny descended!
"Damn it! What the hell is that?!" someone shouted in terror inside a city building.
It was a man in a suit. He had been huddling among the crowd, trembling too, but a deathly pale face had suddenly emerged from his shadow, and a hand had pierced his chest.
The man did not die immediately after his heart was torn out. Instead, he sprang nimbly up and jumped from the sixteenth floor,