A faint, coldly beautiful smile graced White Clothes' face as she spoke: "Give up your struggles. Since you've touched what you shouldn't have, death is your only outcome."
Naive, so naive! A chill ran down Alexander's spine, seeping into his very bones.
This was White Clothes, the being who had suppressed the entire Horror World for countless years. Ghost King Hades, the mightiest Ghost Emperor James—all monumental figures ended up dead.
He had actually thought that with a mere blink skill, he could escape unscathed from her presence. A tinge of despair began to rise in his heart. Could all his grand schemes really end here?
"It seems you have no more tricks up your sleeve," White Clothes said, moving slowly towards him. "Killing you will effectively halt any plans you've set in motion. Because... you're out of time."
As she approached, countless dark shadows lunged at her at Alexander's command. All in vain.
