"I am Yang Jian. By the time you read this, I've already been dead..." A strange parchment, an eye that peeks into the darkness. This is the memoir of a person who survived.
A white Ghost Candle flickered with a tiny black flame.
The surrounding darkness was dim and cold, emitting an eerie and ominous aura everywhere.
It had been over a minute since they lit the Ghost Candle.
But the ghost had still not appeared.
This situation made Yang Jian feel vaguely uneasy; he worried that the Ghost Candle was no longer capable of attracting the ghost over.
Or perhaps the Ghost Candle itself possessed some of the "ghost's" characteristics and, faced with a ghost that kills those who are alone, its attractivness was not enough to overcome the rules of the ghost?
If that were the case, then his plan would have been a failure.
"Let's wait a bit longer, if the ghost still doesn't appear within three minutes, then the situation will have completely spiraled out of control," Yang Jian's heart rose in apprehension. At this moment, his worry was not about the ghost appearing, but about the ghost not appearing.