The night was as dark as ink, and the wind howled through the ancient courtyard, emitting a spine-chilling wail. Holding the Skull that radiated a faint, cold glow, Aming knew that all the mysteries and their final resolution would be unveiled this very night.
The air around Aming seemed to freeze, and every breath carried the scent of death and mystery. Ever since this Skull had appeared in his life, it was like opening Pandora's box, releasing countless paranormal events all at once. Those terrifying phantoms, the inexplicable aura of death, and the bone-deep chill clung to him like maggots on rotting flesh, leaving him not a moment of peace.
He stood in that basement—the one that had appeared in his nightmares countless times—surrounded by rotting wooden boxes and unknown liquids exuding a pungent odor. The light flickered uncertainly, as if it could go out at any second and plunge him entirely into the darkness.
Chapter 408