Sounded very neat, and the speed was fast, so everyone couldn't help but hold their breath.

The next second, Zuo Qing's pupils suddenly changed. She saw several paper figures appearing from the fog, the leading one carrying a paper lantern.

The paper figures walked unsteadily, their bodies extremely uncoordinated, and their heads looked unstable, swaying from side to side, as if they might fall off at any moment.

Zuo Qing couldn't help but gasp. She could feel that they seemed to be looking for some prey.

"Don't make a sound," An Xuan whispered.

Everyone lowered their heads even further, and Zuo Qing held her breath.

Fortunately, the paper figures didn't find them. Instead, they staggered away. Only after the rubbing sound disappeared did they dare to get up.

"It's okay," An Xuan exhaled, withdrawing his gaze from the fog. Then, he reached out and, to Zuo Qing's shock, tore the bride off her back.

Zuo Qing's eyes changed slightly. "It's him?!"

The person lying on the ground was very thin. Most importantly, his face...was actually Old Master Huang!

At this moment, Old Master Huang had completely changed from his previous appearance. The listless look he once had was swept away. Having his identity exposed, he widened his eyes, dense bloodshot veins covering the whites of his eyes, and opened his mouth, making a wheezing sound.

"In this play, we're passing him, not the ghost," An Xuan explained in a low voice. "Those paper figures just now...are the ghosts."

Zuo Qing seemed to suddenly understand something and said, "The paper figures that directed us when we first landed?"

"That's right."

"Let's leave first," An Xuan continued. "We'll talk more about it when we get back."

"What about him?" Zuo Qing asked, looking at Old Master Huang, who was wearing a red opera costume.

"Knock him out and take him with us."

They chose a small path, probably worried about encountering those strange paper figures again.

The sky began to drizzle at some point. The group trudged along with their heads down. Midway, You Qi suggested stopping to take shelter from the rain, but Zuo Qing rejected it. She just wanted to get back to the room immediately.

Her gaze kept scanning the surroundings. Her intuition told her that the danger was still there and hadn't disappeared.

Her physical strength was nearing exhaustion, and Zuo Qing's steps became heavier and heavier. Slowly, she was falling behind the group.

Before long, the fatty walking in front of her also suggested taking shelter from the rain. Annoyed, Zuo Qing refused again. She couldn't understand. Were these two crazy?

Knowing that there were paper figures outside looking for them, they were still thinking about sheltering from the rain...

Getting wet in the rain wouldn't kill them.

But to Zuo Qing's surprise, more and more people asked to stop and take shelter from the rain. In the end, even An Xuan suggested stopping to find a place to hide from the rain.

What puzzled Zuo Qing even more was that these teammates in front of her were just walking with their heads down. Even when they asked to take shelter from the rain, they didn't turn their heads. Their postures were...remarkably consistent.

A bolt of lightning flashed.

Taking advantage of the momentary light, Zuo Qing was surprised to find that the accumulated water on the ground had color: green, yellow, and...red, gathered together, like an overturned palette.

Moving her gaze bit by bit, Zuo Qing discovered that these paints...were flowing down from the bodies of her teammates, dripping little by little along their trouser legs, and finally mixing together.

It was bad...

Just as Zuo Qing was about to escape, the thunder in the sky arrived belatedly.

"Boom!"

At the instant the thunder sounded, the 6 teammates turned around as if they had received instructions at the same time. The moment Zuo Qing saw their faces, her heartbeat stopped.

Their faces...were melting.

Like wax figures that had been burned, their eyes, noses, mouths, and ears...had shifted positions. Some couldn't even find their facial features anymore. Their eyes had moved down, tangled with their mouths and noses.

Wet paint dripped constantly from their faces. Zuo Qing's mind buzzed. She immediately understood that these companions in front of her...were all paper figures!

They were the ghosts!

"Why...didn't you take shelter from the rain?" The fatty, whose eyes had completely melted, took a step forward and said coldly, "Why?!"

"Did you want to watch us die that much?" Xia Meng, whose entire face was smeared, screamed.

"Kill her!"

"Kill her!"

"Peel off her skin...and we'll never be afraid of water again!" The paper figures grinned, screamed, and crowded up in neat steps, surrounding Zuo Qing.

The seemingly limp arms of the paper figures grabbed Zuo Qing, tearing off large pieces of skin and flesh.

"Skin! I want her skin!" The paper figures were stained red with spurting blood. The bright red blood on the ground mixed with rainwater, staining the nearby ground red.

"It's mine!"

"Her skin...is mine!" The paper figures tore and fought, cursing as they went. They stuck the torn-off skin on their bodies, holding it tightly with one hand, as if worried that it would be snatched away by other paper figures at any moment, while continuing to fight with the other hand.

A shrill wail pierced the night sky, but it quickly stopped. Then, only the sounds of tearing and bodies rolling in the mud were left.

Old Master Huang, wearing a red opera costume, squatted stupidly on the ground, tilting his head to watch, making wheezing laughter from his mouth, his face splattered red with blood.

......

By the time An Xuan and the others arrived, everything was over.

In the scarlet mud, there was a tattered corpse, like an unrepairable rag doll.

The corpse was unrecognizable. Besides some skin and flesh still connected to the limbs, the skin on the body...had been peeled off, as had the face.

One eye was connected by blood vessels and nerves, hanging outside, while the other...had completely disappeared, leaving only an empty eye socket, staring at the night sky above.

Anyone could tell how much pain Zuo Qing had suffered when she died. There were traces of rolling and struggling everywhere on the ground, intermittent, as long as 10 meters.

Pieces of clothing were scattered all along the way, and of course, more of them were scattered pieces of flesh.

Xia Meng held up the only lantern in the team.

Looking at the scene in front of him, the fatty felt a constant bloody smell rushing into his nasal cavity, and something was churning in his stomach. Chen Qiang and You Qi had already vomited once each.

He was fine; he was still brewing.

Only An Xuan was squatting beside the dilapidated corpse, one knee kneeling in the blood. No one disturbed him. The scene was solemn like a memorial.

The corpse's mouth was wide open, still maintaining its expression before death.

After a long while, An Xuan stood up. "Let's go." He looked at the lake where the fog had dissipated and said softly, "It'll be dawn soon."

Having experienced this change, the fatty felt that subtle changes had taken place in the team. Only he and the doctor returned to their rooms.

"Doctor," the fatty couldn't wait to ask after closing the door, "Why did Xia Meng leave with An Xuan? Do they not need to hide their identities anymore?"

Taking off his shoes, Jiang Chen grabbed a pillow and leaned on the bed. "What's there to hide?" He glanced out the window, exhaled, and said, "Didn't you hear him say? It'll be dawn...soon."