Outside the mirror, Gao Ming stood behind Ji Zhe; inside, the dead Gao Ming stood behind Xia Yang.
"I know exactly what to do, you shouldn't overstep," Gao Ming's hand slowly rose, gently locking around Ji Zhe's throat as he looked at the mirror.
The one-eyed Gao Ming in the mirror, covered in wounds, held Xia Yang by the neck, the only remaining eye pierced by a line of blood, his voice icy and frightening.
"I am already dead, the one making decisions is you," the Ji Zhe in the mirror slowly overlapped Xia Yang's expression, "Killing everyone is what you truly desire deep inside. I am merely putting it all on display. Don't you understand? I am acting on your wishes, not leading you. You are the one driving me."
The mirror reflected the souls and hearts of three people, casting the figures of Ji Zhe, Xia Yang, and Gao Ming.
"Stop immediately," Gao Ming's fingers tightened, and Ji Zhe's neck began to contort.
