The sound was rhythmic, with each impact distinct.

"Clap clap! Clap clap clap!"

The sound was coming from outside the house, and it felt like it was getting closer.

Ninth Sister pouted: "Disgusting."

Fang Zong laughed and said, "You must be thinking the wrong thing. There's no one here."

It has to be said that Fang Zong also had a distorted idea. The slapping sound was just too rhythmic, full of artistry, aesthetics, and...familiarity.

But we'll find out what really happened once we go out and see.

This is the territory of ghosts, and Fang Zong fears no one.

So he pushed the door open and went out, and then Fang Zong's face darkened.

To be honest, the scene outside was quite pleasing to the eye, but someone didn't think so.

Fang Zong's neck and scalp tightened involuntarily. Then, he heard a demonic voice that seemed to turn his brain into mush.

Ninth Sister: "...My eyes! Ahhh, I'm blind! Blinded, ahhhhh!"

Sure enough... Fang Zong rubbed his forehead.

Stop yelling about taking me down with you. If you keep howling like that, I might as well just take you down with me!

Fang Zong finally regained consciousness, admired the outside world, and then discovered...

Wow, so many new things!

He saw a long line outside, numbering sixty or seventy, with men and women paired up, either naked or in uniforms, in various poses such as angel pose, back-to-back pose, rowing pose, starfish pose, swallow pose, fish pose, flying duck pose... none of them were human, and they didn't need ropes or tables to play dozens of different poses.

Fang Zong could use Peter's bodysuit to guarantee that he absolutely, certainly, definitely, and unequivocally knew it.

He hasn't learned any of them!