With nothing to fear, Yang Jian had seized upon the weakness of the human skin paper. This was the one advantage he had gained so far in dealing with this bizarre thing.
When someone was caught in a supernatural incident, the human skin paper often gained the upper hand by exploiting their desire to survive.
This was a dangerous game.
Yang Jian knew that if he lost, his fate might be worse than Zhao Kaiming's.
But with supernatural incidents erupting across the world, no one had any guarantee for the future. Keeping this thing was merely a way to give himself a little more confidence in protecting himself.
The notes Zhao Lei had left behind had provoked Yang Jian this time. He did not want that ghost to continue wandering outside under Zhao Lei's identity for even another moment.
That strange thing had to be contained.
The conversation continued.
Night fell, and the fifth floor outside gradually darkened.
Yang Jian was not afraid of the dark. He turned on a light and sat alone at the table, seeking answers.
The threat seemed to have worked.
After remaining calm for quite some time, the human skin paper gradually began changing again.
A line of handwriting emerged: I do not know about Zhao Lei. By the time I discovered it, it was already too late. His current situation is very unusual. Although I wanted to help him, I was unable to do so with my abilities at the time. I lost track of that ghost and could not effectively determine his location, but I believe that if I am given some time, I may be able to find him.
Then three words appeared beneath that line: One month.
Yang Jian's face darkened as he looked at it.
The human skin paper was