In the pitch-black hall, a faint yellow light flickered, barely illuminating a dining table.
Yang Jian, Zhang Wei, Liu Qi, Miao Xiaoshan, and Wang Shanshan sat around the table. None of them moved or made the slightest sound, even restraining their breathing as much as possible.
Because behind them, countless figures stood amid the darkness.
But at that moment, Yang Jian's gaze was fixed on the person behind Zhang Wei, the one who had leaned out from the darkness and revealed an unfamiliar face.
Rather than a person, this thing was more likely a ghost.
Zhang Wei's breathing was somewhat unsteady. His eyelids twitched as he could not help glancing upward. He could clearly feel that the person above him was deathly cold, without the slightest trace of warmth. Just being close to it made his scalp tingle. Yet his hand remained clenched tightly around that red axe.
The ghost maintained that strange posture without moving, but its cold, unfamiliar face remained directed at Yang Jian.
"Yang Jian, the ghost has appeared and is standing there without moving. This is a good opportunity. If we act now, we can win."
Liu Qi was also staring at the ghost behind Zhang Wei. He was eager to make a move, and the hand beneath the table had been gripping a loop of straw rope.
He believed that, working with Yang Jian, he could restrain the ghost immediately, perhaps even imprison it.
Yang Jian still did not answer. He merely gave Liu Qi a look, telling him not to act rashly.
"I understand." Seeing this, Liu Qi could only suppress the urge.
Having made it this far, he had the judgment he needed. Yang Jian's lack of action meant that this was not the right time. After all, Yang Jian was a Headquarters