For fourteen years, the group name had remained unchanged until suddenly someone modified it. It's not that the name "Death Building Owner Rights Protection Mutual Assistance Group" was particularly bizarre; it's just that this name didn't quite fit the despairing, deathly atmosphere of the group.
Blood seeped from the shattered phone screen, and the names of the dead penned crimson messages.
As fingers touched the eerie text, the evil ghost's hiss would directly resound in the mind.
In the cold, painful voices tinged with confusion, those souls that had sunk into the darkest depths of the night suddenly opened their eyes, and they discovered an opportunity amidst the unchanging despair.
Cradling the phone in his hands, Han Fei was somewhat at a loss; he had only wanted to see what the Manager could do, not realizing he had just poked such a big hole.