After tidying up her clothes again, the 'Old Age Striking King' left a trail of bloody footprints as she stepped into the small building ahead.
The open door slammed shut behind her... with a loud bang.
In front of her was a hall filled with old, dirty sofas, and in the fireplace, peculiar flames were 'crackling'—likely some kind of burnable stone, they were pale white flames yet vaguely green.
On the walls of the living room, a few sporadic wall lamps were hanging, providing decent lighting. They seemed to use the same fuel as the fireplace, thus the entire hall was filled with an eerie atmosphere.
Very much like the vibe before a big boss appears in a horror ghost film.
The 'Old Age Striking King' slightly tilted her head, feeling her ears itch a bit.
Thankfully, she had already reduced her sensory perception to the lowest level, otherwise, wouldn't such a loud noise be trying to deafen her?
