At that moment, the road had vanished. Yang Jian seemed to be standing in a world filled with dead souls.
There was no end in sight in any direction.
Dead souls wandered everywhere without purpose, and as time passed, they gradually drew closer to Yang Jian.
Their faces were clearly so unfamiliar, yet with an occasional glance, he discovered that some of them were people he had once known very well. Without exception, however, those "familiar people" were all dead. Not a single living person was among them.
They were classmates, relatives, friends, and even enemies.
They were all people Yang Jian had known before, but they had died for various reasons.
Only the dead could appear among these souls.
Yet Yang Jian's gaze remained cold. As he watched those familiar figures appear among the dead souls, his expression did not change in the slightest. He had even split Zhao Lei's dead soul in half on the spot, because he simply did not believe that the dead would turn into wandering souls here.
He believed that the essence of it all was supernatural.
These dead souls probably reflected the people most familiar to someone's heart. Though they looked the same, these souls had nothing to do with the deceased.
Only fools would be deceived by these dead souls and believe they were their loved ones.
Perhaps others were not unable to see through it. They simply could not overcome the hurdle in their own hearts. They would rather deceive themselves and treat these strange dead souls as their family, even gamble on that sliver of hope by pulling a soul off the road and verifying the legend of Baishui Town, allowing the dead soul to revive in this world as a living person once more.
But Yang Jian could say