Here Lies The Wicked

Soul Qi +1.

The ghosts are strangled directly into the light of the knife, and these ghosts are already too weak for today's equation.

As the ghosts were slaughtered, the raging fire around them disappeared, and the blood and bodies on the bed disappeared, they found themselves still standing in front of the frame on the wall.

People are still in that abandoned cabin, and the flashlight in their hands is spreading.

The third frame on the wall had been smashed to pieces by him.

You're looking at the only two remaining frames, and you're looking at the color of your thoughts.

I don't know if it's a coincidence that only one of the twelve people on the frame escaped from this haunted house, and only one of them survived the killing of 11 people.

And that man is Pingsi's man.

Fang Zheng can even imagine who was the one who eventually escaped from the haunted house on that strange night decades ago, and should be the man named Pingsi.

Because the noise he was hearing outside the cabin was all in a dialectic language he didn't understand.

If Pingsi had died in this cabin in the first place, he would have heard Pingsi's voice, and Pingsi's speech was accompanied by some Chinese dialect, which he should have understood.

So, as soon as the mind speculated, convenience had guessed 89 out of 10.

It's weird.

Weird night decades ago, again decades later.

Even the end is the same, eventually only a man named Ping Si survived.

The more you think about it, the more you feel about it, the more you seem to be involved in some of the mysterious beings in the underworld.

“If my guess is correct, then the old man's body found in the village in front of the door should be this man called Pingsi...”

His eyes were silent. Perhaps when he returned to the village in front of the gate, he could identify the body of the old man.

Just as Fang was silent, his eyes swept to the ground, huh?

The expression on the square face revealed a surprise.

It's actually a medallion.

Not the tens of billions, trillions of denominations of plutonium that the sun burns into the shadows, but the Yin De Qian plutonium.

Fang has never figured out, these ancient legends about meditation coins, the kinds of yinde money, how many points are really fake.

Is there really a place in this world?

As a butcher in the system, Zhang clearly informed him that the so-called local government was nothing more than a folk superstition, and that there was no local government in the world.

But the land doesn't exist. What's wrong with these medals?

The square is picking up 11 medallions on the ground… No, 12 medallions.

A glance at the frame of the flat four photos on the wall revealed a total of twelve meditation coins, which undoubtedly met Fang's earlier assumptions.

The old man who died in the village in front of the gate should be Pingsi.

Perhaps because of an obsession, the older man lived the rest of his life in some sort of self-reproach, perhaps because he failed to rescue others decades ago. That's why he spends the rest of his life under his own dry well, secretly digging up a secret passage, and then returning to the Black Blind Forest every once in a while to mourn his late friend. The person who was lying outside Li Lao San's door may have been Ping Si in his sick family for days.

Of course, these are just a few clues based on personal speculation.

Perhaps it is possible that the person who was lying outside Li Lao San's door was not Ping Si...

Fang looked down at the twelve medallions in his hand. Since there is no capital, these medallions cannot be burned to the capital.

But existence makes sense.

Since local governments do not exist, the reverse is proof that the future use of these medallions may be even more extraordinary.

The medallion is also known as Yin De Qian.

It's a Yin De Vehicle.

Yin De has long been one of the deep-rooted and important inheritances of folklore, the Taoist record and the Buddhist system.

The ancient proverb of the Sun, which is true of those who possess shadow, has been prevalent for thousands of years in the history of civilization.

There are signs that shady carriers like medallions may be something else.

He had nine medals.

Together with today's twelve medallions, he has 21 medallion deposits.

With regard to the doubts about the underworld coin, Zhang Zheng or Mr. Fu, both of whom are members of the system, must know many myths and secrets of ancient legends, these are outside ordinary people, information that is not accessible on the Internet.

But he had so many secrets that he couldn't reveal himself.

Although Mr. Zhang and Mr. Fu may have learned some secrets about him, they would not have let him take care of the meditation shop and let him go. The answer is obvious: Mr. Zhang and Mr. Fu must have known that he was different from ordinary people.

However, it is not clear exactly what stage his information has taken. So all he can do is try to keep a low profile, try not to jump too far, and try to minimize the number of times he gets into the sight of Mr. Zhang Butcher and Mr. Fu.

He was picking up his mood and exiting the haunted house.

The only thing that's unfortunate is that the man who got into the haunted house tonight, he didn't make it out in time.

With this in mind, there is a cold light in the eyes.

Boom!

A red pitch is like a big waterfall. Jiuyang Zhenqi's knife exploded the wooden house in the woods, turned into a bear fire and collapsed into ruins.

About ten minutes later, the square figure appeared elsewhere in the Black Blind Forest.

Find it based on the way the well was dug out of the memory.

The night in the old woods of the deep mountains is like a place of death, curse, loneliness, mourning, despair.

Traveling on the edge of the real world and the evil world.

The eyes touch, it's terror and darkness, like a man's little black house, how can he not walk out of the shadows?

But all of this has nothing to do with each other.

People are afraid of ghosts by three points, ghosts by seven points.

The right thing to do at this moment, he's not afraid of ghosts, but ghosts should be afraid of him.

The party quickly found a well burial that had collapsed decades ago. However, when the party was finding a place, its eyes glanced at it, and it was alert.

When the collapsed well was buried, it was dug up.

The soil flipped out and was dug out.

And the soil that was ripped apart was fresh, and it had only been dug up a few days.

Square muscles tightened, gripping the ghost knife in his hand, ready to thrust at all times, he cautioned himself around, and listened carefully to any wind blowing around him for five minutes, ten minutes… surrounded by safety and no suspicious movement.

Fang Zheng is convinced that there is no one around anymore.

She was approaching the well, and the flashlight went downhole. The well was deep, and the flashlight could not illuminate the downhole view. For a moment, he stood beside the well and did not feel the smell of ghosts. Then he went down to the bottom of the well with a ghost knife as a borrowing point on the well wall.

The downhole chills are hard and the wet chills are heavy.

But when you go down to the bottom of the well, you don't have the water you can imagine.