“Help!”
“Ahhhh!”
Screams and cries for help rang out one after another. Weng Xiaoping watched helplessly as two living people were dragged into the black abyss on the ground, her teeth chattering with fear.
"Master... what is that?"
"You can understand it as the gatekeeper of the ghost realm. Before the ghost realm is disbanded, no one can leave through the gatekeeper."
Weng Xiaoping patted her pounding chest: Fortunately, she hugged the right person!
The leopard seemed to become mature and calm all of a sudden: "Can those people who were dragged in still survive?"
"Alive?" Chu Mu sneered, "Do you think ghosts are philanthropists?"
"Then how are we going to get out?"
Chu Muyao pointed at the collapsed stage and said, "Let them take us out."
Weng Xiaoping felt uneasy: "Master, the ones you are talking about are not those ghosts, right?"
"Not bad, quite smart." Chu Mu praised.
Weng Xiaoping laughed awkwardly: "How are they going to deliver it?"
Before he could finish his words, the ghosts gave the answer.
Ghost figures, real and unreal, emerged from under the stage and flew towards the wall of the ghost realm.
Crashing like crazy, as if he didn't care about his life.
The weak ghost was crushed into powder in the collision, and soon other ghosts took his place and continued the collision.
"What-what are they doing?" Weng Xiaoping was dumbfounded.
Shao Di glanced at Chu Mu quietly and said, "Repay the favor."
Click, click.
Along with the sound of shattering, there was a sudden burst of light.
The dim auditorium disappeared, the stage, the auditorium, the ghosts, the abyss, all disappeared.
Chu Mu looked around the dilapidated playground: "The ghost zone has been lifted."
He closed his eyes and his lips moved as he uttered something.
In the distance, a group of people in strange clothes were rushing towards this side.
The old monk ran first: "Donor! Little donor——"
"Shh." Chi Xiusi gestured to the old monk for silence. "He's praying for the soul to be reborn. Don't disturb him."
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