Valley of Ten Thousand Demons, in front of a prison.
The corpse of a monster cultivator lies twisted on the ground, his limbs contorted, eyes bulging, blood pooling everywhere.
A few monster cultivators nearby look grim, their voices icy.
"Just two days—this is already the fifth one..."
"Fuck, it's like we've run into ghosts."
"Quit talking shit, what fucking 'ghosts' are you on about?"
"If not ghosts, then what? Out of nowhere, they start going mad, biting and gnawing, then bursting apart and dying..."
One monster cultivator has a pale face:
"I swear, it feels like something filthy has crept into this big prison of ours..."
Another monster cultivator sneers, "You're such a coward! Scaring yourself for nothing. We're monster cultivators—we practice demonic power and defy the Righteous Dao. Risk comes with the territory, it's as normal as it gets."
