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

The opera troupe member suddenly looked up.

The light in those eerie pupils was stronger than ever before.

They understood.

This is not a temporary shelter.

It is a real road.

If the supernatural era ends, vengeful ghosts will have nowhere to go, and the souls of the dead will wander aimlessly.

Then there needs to be a place to house them.

A rule is needed.

We need a cage for ghosts, and also a kingdom for ghosts.

Hell.

This name is enough to drive all the vengeful ghosts who have been suppressed by the eerie world for countless years into madness.

But they dared not lose their composure.

Because the person who uttered those two words was Yang Jian.

It's not a promise.

It is a verdict.

The actors and ghosts all kowtowed.

The black mud cracked silently.

A chilling aura spread across the lakebed, only to be suppressed back to its original position by Yang Jian's ghostly domain.

"We understand."

Their sounds overlapped.

It sounded like a traditional Chinese opera performance with a lowered voice.

With fervor.

It also carries with it submission.

Yang Jian did not continue on this topic.

He asked, "Have you found everything?"

The ghost in the lead opera troupe immediately raised his hand.

The other ghosts behind them also took out various items.

Those things were shrouded in yin energy, making it impossible to discern their exact appearance.

These are all essential components of the mystical spear.

Each one comes from a different, eerie source.

Each one carries with it an extremely dangerous pattern.

Ordinary ghost tamers, let alone holding it in their hands, might even be targeted by some kind of supernatural entity just by glancing at it a few times.

But Yang Jian simply raised his hand and rolled it up.

A red light swept across.

Everything vanished into his ghost realm.

The ghost from the opera troupe whispered, "Everything we can find is here."

Yang Jian sensed it.

Most of the materials are ready.

Only one last thing is missing.

gold.

Gold that can truly contain and isolate the supernatural, and also serve as the framework for weapons.

Yang Jian looked at the ghost of the opera troupe.

"What about the gold?"

The ghost in the lead opera troupe froze.

It lowered its head, its voice filled with fear.

"Gold is gone in the strange world."

"That's why we can't find it."

This is not an excuse.

There was once gold in the strange world.

However, over a long period of time, everything that could be plundered had already been plundered.

The rest have either been corrupted by supernatural forces, devoured by some source, or have completely lost their function.

Finding enough gold here to forge the mystical spear is virtually impossible.

The ghosts in the opera troupe dared not raise their heads.

They knew this was important.

Once the mystical spear is complete, it will be no ordinary weapon.

That is something that can penetrate to the source, nail down evil spirits, and even rewrite the course of a battle.

Just one step away, that's it.

The lakebed remained quiet for a moment.

Yang Jian, however, did not get angry.

He waved his hand.

"It doesn't matter."

The opera troupe member was slightly taken aback.

Yang Jian calmly replied, "I naturally have ways to obtain the gold."

He raised his head.

The gaze seemed to pierce through the bottom of the lake, through the bizarre world, and land on that chaotic reality.

"In the real world, yes."

The light in the eyes of the opera troupe's ghosts shone even brighter.

They understood.

Three days later, it wasn't just Yang Jian who returned.

They will follow them back.

At that time, the real world will no longer be just a battle between humans and the supernatural.

There is also a ghost brought out from the depths of a strange world.

A troupe of ghost actors who were granted freedom by Yang Jian, but only obeyed his orders.

The black coffin trembled again.

The gap in the coffin lid widened slightly.

Thick black gas surged out, like countless black hands trying to grab Yang Jian.

Yang Jian's eyes turned slightly cold.

He took a step forward.

The ghostly shadow beneath their feet instantly lengthened, directly covering the black coffin.

The black energy was forcibly pushed back into the coffin.

The slightly ajar coffin lid made a dull thud as it was pressed back down.

A very faint sigh came from the bottom of the lake.

Like a female corpse in a coffin, unwilling to accept her fate.

It's like the gasp of the entire eerie world before it awakens.

Yang Jian stood in front of the black coffin, his face expressionless.

"Three days."

He spoke calmly.

"I'll keep you under control for another three days."

no respond.

Only black mist churned within the cracks of the coffin.

Yang Jian turned around and looked at the opera troupe ghost kneeling behind him.

"Guard this place well for the next three days."

"Anything that gets close, kill."

The ghosts in the opera troupe all bowed their heads.

"Yes."

Yang Jian did not speak again.

A red glow spread across the bottom of the lake.

The black coffin was pressed down in the center.

The ghosts of the opera troupe scattered around, like a group of shadows guarding the stage, waiting for the final show to begin.

But in the real world.

Qin Taotao stumbled out of the door of the eerie post office.

She leaned against the wall, panting heavily.

The blank space on the wrist remains.

The chill in my body hadn't dissipated.

But her eyes changed.

She brought back a message.

Three days later.

Yang Jian returned.

At that time, all sorts of ghosts and demons roamed freely.