At this moment.
Inside the long-abandoned Caesar Hotel.
Yang Jian casually sat on a chair, holding a pencil and drawing paper, sketching a face from memory at an unbelievable speed.
The memory wasn't his own, but from the woman named Huang Ying, who had witnessed a terrifying scene.
It was less than a minute.
On the white paper, a vivid face emerged.
"It's this person." Yang Jian put down the pencil, holding up the drawing for a closer look.
In the drawing was a young man whose complexion was dark and dull, lifeless, with even hints of corpse spots appearing. His eyes were open but numb, hollow, utterly devoid of spirit, which suggested the person had already been dead for quite some time.
Moreover, he seemed to have been dead for several days, showing slight signs of decomposition.
