Fat Wang yelled out, and Yang Gang sprung to his feet, picked up his gun, and told the others to guard the other directions.
He took two people with him and stood by Fat Wang's side, shining the flashlight ahead.
Out of the mist, a figure emerged.
He clutched his chest, staggering forward as if he had lost his soul.
It wasn't a monster, but a person.
He was covered in blood, crying out incessantly, "Dead, they're all dead. There are ghosts here, there are ghosts!"
The sound was so mournful that it was chilling to hear in the dead of night.
Yang Gang shouted, "Stop, don't move, or I'll shoot!"
But the man, as if he hadn't heard, kept shuffling forward.
Yang Gang's hand was on the trigger, and he subconsciously exchanged a glance with Long Fei.
Long Fei, with a curious expression, pressed down on Yang Gang's gun barrel, preparing to go over and bring the man back to ask about the situation.
But before he even stepped out of the enclosure,
