At that moment, several beams of white flashlight pierced upward, casting shallow spots of light on the ceiling of the grand hall. In the darkness, the opulent bank hall resembled a cold, eerie crypt, and the statue at its center was even more bizarre, with a young girl looking pale and terrified into the darkness, while the face of a wicked woman bore a resentful gaze, staring intently at something not far away. Elvira looked up towards the second floor, which seemed like an altar bathed in white light, with people resembling frightened offerings struggling at the edge of death.
He ran up the stairs, his hand gliding over the smooth marble banister, cold to the touch, causing Elvira to involuntarily shiver. Glancing back, with the aid of the faint white light, he saw a massive dark shadow leap from the darkness, soaring up to the high ceiling.