In the desolate embrace of a street less traversed, Wang Xiao came to a standstill, his pursuit having reached its silent terminus.
Yin Yue's voice echoed in his head, tinged with frustration. [It was here! I'm certain—the aura was unmistakable, but it's vanished now!]
A sigh escaped Wang Xiao's lips, his breath visible in the cool air. "We were too late. And what then? If we had caught up with the hell spirit, what were we to do?"
Yin Yue's response carried a hint of reassurance. [Not all hell spirits are as violent as the one we faced before. The weaker their strength, the less cunning they possess. This one, however, is among the mightiest. It would not seek to harm you unless its schemes were threatened—hence its evasion. A dialogue could have shed light on its intentions.]
