Muddlehead was terrifying, so terrifying that even the Ghost King Jiang Li wouldn't dare to easily provoke him. For even if Ghost King practiced for a thousand years, he could not withstand the astronomical number of dead souls resulting from the frequent disasters and wars in the human realm. Muddlehead, who wasn't strong to begin with and was merely an insignificant fierce ghost, had grown into what he was now.
Millions of human heads overlapped, their twisted faces filled with all kinds of malicious expressions. Greed, envy, rage, resentment, arrogance... It seemed like a collection of all the evil and distortion in the world, gnawing at each other yet also supporting one another. They formed a giant, incomprehensible, chaotic sphere beyond human understanding, gently floating above the path.
"Why does this scene feel familiar?"
Zhou Li said, arms crossed.
"We saw this when we went out to look for help," Xiaolu reminded.
Muddlehead had arrived.
