A bizarre resurrection: I, Yang Jian, am bound by a contract with the school beauty!

Whew whistling—

The sound of wind chasing from behind was not normal wind.

There was no wind in Ruyue Residential Area, and all the fog clung to the ground like dead fog. But now, from the darkness behind Chen Mo, there was a constant sound like the rustling of fabric.

sough.

sough.

It looked like something was dragging its soaking wet body, moving between the grass and the corner of the wall.

Chen Mo did not turn around.

He knew that the vengeful spirit of the wet corpse was catching up.

Escaping from the third floor of Building 7 just now only means escaping the first round of attacks; it doesn't mean I'm truly safe.

This haunted building won't let anyone leave easily, and the vengeful ghosts won't give up just because he fell down the stairs.

He ran across a patch of wasteland, his feet crushing several rotten planks of wood. The stench of decay rose from the ground, mingling with the mist and filling his nostrils.

Chen Mo was breathing heavily.

His physical strength was nearing its limit.

From 301 to 307, and then climbing down the outer wall of the third floor, his body was already pushed to the brink of collapse.

My left hand is still numb.

My shoulder hurts terribly.

The cracks on his fingers were still emanating a chilling black aura.

What's more troublesome is that the transparent threads inside his body haven't completely calmed down.

They wriggled like a swarm of startled insects, hidden beneath the skin.

Each heartbeat brings a slight pulling sensation.

Chen Mo knew very well that this was not a good thing.

Meng Xiaodong's assessment of his abilities was not consistent.

He had only just started learning and wasn't even proficient in the most basic controls.

But now, he has no time to rest, let alone time to adapt.

The sound of the wind behind us grew closer.

Whew, whistling.

A damp, cold air pressed down on me from behind.

Chen Mo felt a chill on the back of his neck; it was the feeling of being watched.

He could even imagine that the vengeful, wet corpse was standing behind the mist, looking at him with its murky eyes.

It doesn't need to run.

As long as it follows its own trail, it will surely catch up.

Because this is Ruyue Community, because this is their territory.

Chen Mo gritted his teeth and continued to charge forward.

There was an open space in front of us.

In the center of the open space stood several dead trees, their branches drooping low like withered, dry hands.

Further away is another residential building.

The building was mostly obscured by fog, with only a few dark, gaping windows visible.

Chen Mo's first reaction was to rush into that building.

Once you enter the building, you might find new windows and routes.

But after running a few steps, his pace suddenly slowed down.

No.

If you keep running, you'll die sooner or later.

The speed of a wet corpse ghost is not necessarily faster than that of a human, but it does not get tired, does not feel fear, and does not make mistakes.

And Chen Mo will.

He was injured and his strength was declining.

If he slips, misjudges, or gets blocked by the black water, he will never have another chance.

"We can't keep running like this."

Chen Mo spoke in a low voice, as if he were talking to himself.

His eyes quickly scanned his surroundings.

He needs cover.

We need something to ward off evil spirits; we need to buy ourselves some time.

But upon looking at it, his pupils suddenly contracted.

Edge of an open space.

Under the dead tree.

Beside the dilapidated bench.

Even behind the windowsill on the first floor of that building not far away, there were things standing.

doll.

Dolls.

They vary in size.

Some were about the height of a three- or four-year-old child, while others were only half their height. Some were wearing dark red padded jackets.

Some of them had moldy white cloths hanging on their bodies.

They stood quietly in the fog, their heads tilted, their black, beady eyes like those of a dead person embedded in their face.

Chen Mo broke out in a cold sweat instantly.

He hadn't even noticed.

These dolls have always been there.

Not just one.

There weren't just a few.

Instead, there are many.

They are scattered throughout the neighborhood, like discarded old toys, or like dead people waiting for some kind of command.

Chen Mo's heart skipped a beat.

Doll Ghost.

It's the same as the one in 307.

These are not ordinary toys.

They all possess supernatural qualities.

If you get surrounded by them, your fate won't be much better than being chased by a wet, vengeful ghost.

At the same time, a thought popped into Chen Mo's mind.

Can these ghostly dolls be controlled?

He did it, the one in 307.

Although the cost was high.

Although I almost suffered a backlash.

But he did manage to control the doll ghost with the silk threads, and it held back the wet corpse ghost.

If one isn't enough, how about two?

What about three?

What else?

If he becomes more skilled at manipulating the threads, will he be able to control even more puppet ghosts?

If there were enough ghost dolls, would we no longer have to run away?

Could we turn it around and suppress that vengeful, wet corpse?

Once the thought appeared, it could no longer be suppressed.

Chen Mo stopped in his tracks completely.

The sound of the wind behind them grew closer.

sough.

sough.

Fog surged in from the direction of Building 7, and black watermarks slowly spread across the ground.

The wet corpse ghost hasn't appeared yet, but its supernatural presence has already arrived.

Chen Mo stood there, his chest heaving violently.

The fear remains.

But beneath that fear, something else was born.

That was ruthlessness.

It is also the desire to survive.

He suddenly realized something.

The ability that Meng Xiaodong bestowed upon him was perhaps never meant to allow him to keep running away.

Manipulating puppets.

To use ghosts to control ghosts.

This is the only way to survive.

Escape can only delay death.

Only a counterattack could truly end the pursuit.

Chen Mo raised his hands.

His ten fingers were still trembling, not from fear, but because the cold, dark threads inside his body had not fully recovered.

He forced himself to calm down.

You can't just swing around like you would in the Peugeot 307; that would be too strenuous and dangerous.

It needs to be precise.

Control one first.

Then use the first one to buy time, and then control the second one.

Like a snowball rolling downhill.

As long as he gets through the beginning, he will become stronger and stronger.

Chen Mo's gaze fell on the nearest doll.

The doll stood under the withered tree, wearing a drab gray cotton-padded jacket, with red round cheeks painted on its face, and a stiff smile sewn into the corners of its mouth by red thread.

It was only five or six meters away from Chen Mo.

It hasn't been moved yet.

Perhaps there's no triggering pattern, or perhaps it's waiting for the eerie approach of a wet, vengeful ghost.

Chen Mo didn't know the reason.

All he knew was that this was an opportunity.

He slowly raised his right hand.

The index finger is slightly bent.

The familiar, cold, thin thread inside the body extended out from the fingertips.

This time, he didn't rush to swing.

He closed his eyes to feel the position of the silk threads.

Very fine.

It's cold.

Like a strand of ice drawn from the skin and flesh.

It wasn't something that could be seen with the eyes, but Chen Mo could feel it floating in the air.

He steered it forward.

One inch.

Two inches.

The silk thread trembled slightly, as if it might break at any moment.

Chen Mo's forehead was covered in cold sweat.

The black water behind them had already submerged several pebbles, and the footsteps of the wet, vengeful ghost could be heard.

pat.

pat.

Soaked feet step on the ground.

Each step was accompanied by the sound of water droplets falling.

Chen Mo didn't turn around; his attention was entirely focused on the doll.

The thread finally touched the doll's shoulder.

A chilling shock immediately struck, and Chen Mo's fingers went numb, almost causing him to lose control.

"Don't rush."

He gritted his teeth and whispered.

This wasn't said to anyone else; it was said to myself.

The threads slid across the doll's shoulders and slipped into the gaps between its joints.

There are eerie gaps there.

He had previously found a similar location in 307.

Once you get in there, you can establish a connection.

The thread sank in little by little, and suddenly the doll's head moved.

Click.

It turned its head and looked at Chen Mo.

The black bead's eyes were devoid of any emotion, yet they sent a chill down Chen Mo's spine.

The next moment, the doll lifted its foot and walked towards him.

It was startled awake.

Chen Mo did not back down; to back down would mean failure.

He raised his left hand and released a second thread.

The thread wasn't stable enough; it started to fall after flying only half a meter.

Chen Mo's expression darkened, and he immediately composed himself.

He focused his attention on the pulling sensation deep in his wrist and forcefully lifted the thread.

The second thread is wrapped around the doll's neck.

The third thread wrapped around the left arm.

The fourth thread tried to pierce the center of the forehead, but it missed and stuck next to the red cheek.

The doll paused.

Its body began to struggle.

Chen Mo's face turned pale; that weight was back.

It looked like a cold corpse, suspended from his hands by a few thin threads.

Even more bizarrely, the doll's consciousness was crawling towards him along the threads.

It is not human consciousness, but a chaotic and chilling state.

The sounds of crying, laughter, and the scraping of wood were like a rotten lump trying to crawl into his head.

Chen Mo's eyes hardened.

He suddenly raised his right hand, and the last thread pierced the doll's forehead.

This time it was approved.

The doll froze the moment the thread pierced through.

It stopped three meters away from Chen Mo.

Chen Mo gently bent his ten fingers, and the doll raised its hand accordingly.

Successful.

The first one.

Chen Mo felt no joy.

Because the vengeful spirit of the wet corpse has arrived.

The mist was torn apart by the black water, and the soaking wet figure appeared on the other side of the open space.

Dark clothes clung to the body.

His face was pale.

Her hair was dripping wet.

It didn't move very fast, but with each step it took, the black water on the ground expanded.

Chen Mo stared at it, his heart seemingly stopping for a moment.

This ghost is even scarier than the one before.