A sinister wind snuffed out the fire starter in the tunnel. The flashlight revealed a human figure floating in the smoke. A long line of ghost soldiers was heading toward them, and the carriage in the middle of the procession was piled high with blood-soaked heads. Wu Tianzhen’s breathing grew rougher and rougher. Chu Long and the Mute Bottlecap reached out at the same time to cover his mouth.
