There was something in the elevator.
Magong Tong knew this.
But she could never have imagined that such a thing would appear from the dark elevator...
The pale skin of the dead, the long thin arms, a shiny iron spike nailed into its smooth neck, with black liquid dripping down. In her hands, the iron spike coated with minced flesh and blood gleamed coldly...
The female ghost just stood there, her neck twisted.
Beneath her silent motion was suppressed madness.
"Is... is that the thing Beichuan has always been facing?" Magong Tong staggered and stumbled forward.
Was Beichuan Si always dealing with such things?
Magong Tong could hardly imagine.
Although last time she and Beichuan Si had gone to Shenzhu Shrine, it had been led by Sister Magong Yong and Sister Shihui, and she had passed out immediately afterward.
Facing the ghost directly this time, the fear that arose from her instinct to survive had once rendered her unable to move.
