The neon light seeping in from outside faintly illuminated an ancestral worship table.
At this moment, the candles had long been extinguished, and the stacked plates of fruit and cold rice were scattered in a mess.
Only a black-and-white portrait of the deceased remained in the center of the table.
But on the glass frame, there were noticeably a few drops of red Blood Bead.
Gasping, gasping.
A dark figure was crouched on the floor, seemingly consuming the offerings, swallowing the food.
And the objects of consumption were, astonishingly, two corporal bodies blurred with blood.
The chilling air in the room seemed to be continuously condensing, making the stench of blood so thick that it was nauseating.
Inside the bedroom.
He Jin was holding a clothes rod, his eyes filled with tension as he looked at the closed door.
It was as if he could see the horrifying scene unfolding in the living room outside through the door.
