Yang Jian sat in the chair, scanning all the passengers in the cabin.
The atmosphere was oppressive, and the surroundings eerily quiet.
The airplane kept circling in the high skies, neither attempting an emergency landing nor heading to another destination, simply waiting.
But this wait was a torment. It felt like everyone on board was on a death countdown, and if Yang Jian couldn't deal with the ghost within this time frame, the plane would only choose to crash into an uninhabited area to prevent a ghost from running rampant in a populous city.
The choices were cruel, but that was because the world itself was cruel.
Yang Jian didn't try to comfort these people, didn't pound on his chest saying, "Don't worry, nothing will happen with me here," and he definitely didn't promise that he could certainly take care of that ghostly thing.
He merely said that if the ghost appeared again, he would confront it. That was all.