The real ghost woman was nothing but a hunched ordinary old lady.
However, the expression on her face was somewhat indescribably ferocious.
Many people long for the clarity of a second arrival, yearn for immortality, and hope for another chance to shape their own lives.
But life only happens once.
Su Nanzhi silently sighed as she slashed a space open with the mystic iron greatsword in her hand. The ghost woman, already deceased, could feel the threat emanating from the space.
"What are you doing? Let me go!" She struggled desperately, but alas, for such a weak ghost, Su Nanzhi could easily handle ten of them bare-handed.
Soon, a tall and slender white silhouette appeared in the space as cold as the abyss.
The height seemed not quite like that of a "human."
Terror filled the ghost woman's eyes.
A fear that seemed inherent.
It was the feeling she could sense after her death, of some existence that could easily snuff out her life.
