A nightmarish night had passed, and it was now light outside.
But what had happened in the village was irreversible, and by this time, most of those who had died in their nightmares had probably already taken their own lives in eerie ways. The cries and heart-wrenching screams had gradually subsided, and those who had lost loved ones were slowly coming to terms with the brutal reality.
For Yang Jian, sitting in silence like this was a kind of enjoyment, even if he was sitting side by side with a Ghost Hand in the trunk, it didn't affect his mood.
He had checked the body several times.
It was decaying.
But the rate of decay was not particularly fast; if it continued at this pace, it would take at least a day or two for the body to decay to over half its state.
In other words, Yang Jian had to suppress this corpse for a day or two.
During this period, he had to avoid using the abilities of other fierce ghosts as much as possible to prevent his own balance from failing.
