The quicksand had turned into sludge. A hand made of mud swept out, pulling all the black mist that had just appeared down into the earth until it disappeared completely.
The sludge searched for a long time but found nothing. However, it seemed certain that something remained, so it didn't give up.
After another fruitless search, it seemed to hesitate. The entire room began to writhe, first turning into sludge, then becoming what seemed to be exceptionally fertile soil.
Amidst this fluctuating aura, after a long while, a flower began to sprout uncontrollably from the sludge's body. The sludge instantly coiled around it, devouring it whole.
"Every last one of you old ghosts is a real pain."
Guan Shouxin's voice drifted out from the sludge, stripped of its earlier anger and without a hint of worry. His tone was exceptionally flat, just as it always was.
After he spoke, the room instantly cleared, and silence fell once again.
