In the shadows of the abandoned house, Wang Bing felt his entire body sinking, unbearably heavy and unable to move.
He lowered his head to see the blue-black shadows of children clinging all over him; their faces indistinct, all he could feel were countless pairs of hands gripping him, relentlessly pulling him down.
And that Little Demon named Tuantuan floated not far ahead, watching him with a half-smile, half-sneer.
On Wang Bing's livestream, countless viewers felt their hearts seize with dread.
[Didn't that thing tell Wang Bing to leave? Now it's chased him down again.]
[And you people still believe what an evil spirit says?]
[Jiang Che's still carrying something—who knows what the hell he's actually holding.]
[Trying to figure out how to deal with your dad? He's just bullshitting us, and he's even managed to fool himself.]
[Who would've thought, even an evil spirit needs a reason for killing.]
