"Survived, did we?"
Inside a room within a villa at the Guanjiang Residential Complex.
The stench of blood, mingled with the odor of decay, filled the space, and the agonized wailing that had once echoed through the room had now subsided.
Li Yang lay weakly on the ground, his bones somewhat twisted and deformed, influenced by supernatural powers that nearly dismembered and tore apart his body.
But ultimately, it hadn't reached that point.
He survived, mastering the third ghost, finding a new balance.
Li Yang panted, turning his head to look to his right.
An eerie, unnaturally thin and blemished arm not belonging to him was haphazardly sewn onto him with twisted stitches, the junction a raw, blackened, stinking mess, as if it had decayed for days. No matter how one looked, such stitching couldn't possibly revive this arm.
Yet, the eerie arm's fingers twitched slightly, persistently in a state of motion, refusing to die entirely.
