The atmosphere had reached a peak of tension.
A hand reached out from the coffin, a pale hand with elongated nails that looked blood-red.
The boy leaned against the door, pounding on it forcefully, his gaze fixed on the coffin with tension.
Slowly, a person sat up in the coffin, their complexion deathly pale with not a hint of color and devoid of any human emotion.
He slowly opened his mouth, revealing two sharp fangs.
"Ah!" the boy yelped, completely terrified.
"Creak..."
At that moment, the door in front of him opened, and the boy scrambled through it.
He had survived the ordeal.
A moment later.
A sound came from the coffin.
The person sitting in it yawned, "Boring."
Up close, he didn't seem old at all.
Apart from the fangs and the white makeup on his face, he was just an ordinary Caucasian boy.
"Click..."
The boy took out a walkie-talkie from the coffin.
