The ghost within the white wax had worked in the convenience store for a long time, encountering all sorts of lonely ghosts and a variety of monsters, but it was the first time he had ever encountered someone like Han Fei.
Looking at the smile on Han Fei's face at that moment, the ghost felt a genuine fear inside, unable to discern what emotion lay behind that smile.
It didn't feel any happiness from that smile, only a kind of pleasure that was hard to describe.
The man in front of him seemed like he was wearing heavy shackles and holding a blood-dripping knife, dancing in the depths of Hell.
The complexity of human nature was fully embodied in that man—he felt fear and unease, yet he seemed to be adapting to that fear at an alarming rate.
Silently avoiding eye contact, the white wax dared not meet Han Fei's gaze.