Last night, lying in my sleeping bag with my eyes closed, the voice I heard and the image I saw were definitely not hallucinations. There was a voice deep inside, warning me, urging me to listen to them. It was instinct, but I couldn't release my Specter Web.
I was already fed up, and those white spiritual entities kept gathering around me in huge groups, as if following me. There were constant booming explosions, and before each one, the chilling howls of the spirits—filled with unwillingness, resentment, and rage—echoed through the darkness.
I didn't know how long I'd been running; Rufina Howard and the others behind me were just tiny dots now, barely visible. I stopped, panting—I had been running for half an hour. I planned to walk for a bit and then continue running.
There were still many spiritual entities, and it seemed they were deliberately wailing right in my ears.
What do you all want to say to me?
I stood where I was and shouted loudly.
Then, something strange happened. The white spiritual entities that had been swirling around and passing through me suddenly stacked up like a barrier, surrounding me completely.
I clenched my fists, watching the white spiritual entities warily.
Ethan Zhang, we'll wait for you down below.
Just then, after a wave of wailing, a rough voice came through. Suddenly, I saw the white spiritual entities around me start to go wild.
"It's just so I can't see things that don't exist in the world of the living. Otherwise, how could I sleep at night? If we travel during the day, all that noise would make us deaf."
Just then, I saw Lance Lan smiling as he walked over.
"What are you looking at, Ethan Zhang?"
I let out a sound of surprise and pointed at the white spiritual entities on the Ten Tribunal Road.
"Oh, so it's those things. People from the Hades Circle can't see them."
I was utterly shocked as I looked at Lance Lan. There really was nothing in his eyes.
I was getting sleepy too. We had to get up at six tomorrow to travel, so I went into a tent. Hugh Thompson and Rufina Howard were already asleep. I crept in, crawled into my sleeping bag, and closed my eyes.
"We need your help, Ethan Zhang."
Just as I closed my eyes, I heard a voice full of resentment. In my mind, there was an image—a white spiritual entity speaking to me. I nearly cried out, but forced myself to keep my eyes shut. After that, I couldn't sense anything.
"What's wrong, Ethan?" Hugh Thompson opened his tired eyes and looked at me. I gave an embarrassed smile.