Someone was violently flung out, and those who survived were frantically fleeing for their lives. Cries and wails merged into a cacophony.
There was also the sound of flesh and bone crushed under the wheels of a car, along with the sound of feet trudging through mud as if the villa had ceased to exist, replaced by an endless muddy road on which a truck rampaged.
Thoughts returned to the past, the rainy night, the muddy road, the big truck... These were Wang Zhongli's experiences just before his death, and now, history was repeating itself.
Through a bizarre phone call, Wang Zhongli dragged Mr. Wolf and the others into that rainy night before his demise.
With the last crushing roll, the faint groans abruptly ceased; on the other end of the phone, there was only the sound of the wind and rain splattering.
Yang Xiao couldn't help but hold his breath, his nerves taut, trying to make his presence as minimal as possible.