The Flesh Ghost God had never called for Gao Ming with such intensity before, as if they were originally a single entity, with no concern as to who would dominate whom.
"Either the body or the soul must face the difficulties; neither can live in a fairy tale, nor can both fall into the abyss," Gao Ming knew all too well how dangerous the nails driven into the heart of the Flesh Statue were, yet he still lifted the Flesh Mud Sculpture with both hands, pressing it to his own chest.
This was a good opportunity for Gao Ming to rid himself of the Flesh Immortal, but he did not. To reach further places, to see the future that no one had ever witnessed, he had to rely on the power of the Flesh Immortal.
The bus plunged into the thick fog, surrounded by the hissing of ghosts and monsters from all around — seemingly no direction was safe. Luo Dong could only drive forward; he could not stop regardless of what happened.
