In the depths of the prison cell, Zhang Qing and Wan Tong heard the second chime of the clock. This time, however, the time within the old mansion did not reset but advanced forward.
Advancing forward didn't seem to change much. The two retained their memories.
But the chime brought an unimaginable, eerie transformation to the cell.
The previously empty desk now bizarrely had a shadowy figure seated before it.
The figure had their head slightly bowed, seemingly writing something into the notebook on the desk. Thick, black ink smeared across the page, forming rows of indistinct characters as the sound of scratching filled the silence around them.
This noise immediately caught the attention of the two.
They instinctively stiffened and cautiously turned toward the desk.
"Could it be human? There wasn't anyone there earlier—it must have appeared after the clock chimed..." Wan Tong's throat moved as he stared intently at the figure by the desk.
