"Ouyang, in a world like this, we can only survive by working together." The tone of Mu Qing's voice made it sound like he was doing it all for Ouyang's own good.

But Ouyang Huanbin completely ignored him, his wary gaze sweeping over the crowd. Then, as if he had made up his mind, he turned and ran downstairs, his footsteps fading into the distance.

The third floor was similar to the second, except it had fewer rooms. The corridor was covered with a layer of dark, lacquered flooring, and each step made a teeth-grinding creak.

Every door was closed. According to everyone's investigation, none of these doors had been opened recently. The doorknobs were covered in dust, and there were no signs of dragging on the floor in front of the doors.

Huai Yi stood up with a strange expression, his eyes fixed on the depths of the corridor. At the end was a wall, and hanging on the wall was a dusty, gray oil painting.

"Where's the body?" Fatty couldn't help but ask.

Everyone fell silent. Perhaps only the dead Liu Hui could answer him this question.

The group eventually left, exiting the manor and heading into town to look for clues.

Walking down the street, the desolation of the town was impossible to hide. Few shops were open, and the signs were all dilapidated. From time to time, people with blank expressions squatted on street corners, their lips moving, muttering to themselves about who knows what.

But without exception, the people here seemed to have an instinctive aversion to strangers. They walked for a long time, but no one was willing to welcome them, even if they paid.

The last time, before they could even explain their purpose, they were chased out by the owner with a steel pitchfork.

"They don't hate us, they're afraid," Jiang Cheng said. "They're worried that contact with us will cause trouble. They want us to leave here as soon as possible."

Mu Qing looked at the shop owner in the distance, still holding the steel pitchfork and wearing a strange expression. He turned around and added, "They're afraid of the Dakrosza Manor, just like the vagrant said. We're carrying that scent."

"But..." Fatty looked around nervously and muttered, "Why aren't the crows following us this time?"

Bai Xiaojie nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's strangely quiet today."

As soon as she finished speaking, a flurry of footsteps came from the corner. It was four men, wearing tattered uniforms, like law enforcers from this place.

The four men stared at them, and the atmosphere instantly became tense.

"Please come with us." The leader was a man with a small mustache, his eyes as sharp as an eagle, but his rough skin and tattered clothes showed that he was not living well.

"Who are you?" Mu Qing asked calmly. "May I ask what crime we have committed?"

It was clear that he had more questions to ask, but as the men behind him expressionlessly took out their weapons, Mu Qing wisely chose to compromise. "Don't be rough. Let's talk things out. We're all good people."

The four men escorted them through half the town, finally arriving at a building that looked more luxurious than the surrounding houses, like an office building.

They were taken to an office, and the scene that greeted them as soon as they entered stunned everyone. Ouyang Huanbin, whom they hadn't seen for a long time, was tied to a bed, his mouth gagged. The horrifying thing was that both of his legs were gone from the knees down. The snow-white sheets were stained with blood, and his body was twisted in pain.

Just as Jiang Cheng realized they had been ambushed and was about to take down the lead mustache man first, an elderly man stood up from behind the desk and hurriedly explained, "Don't misunderstand. Your friend was injured. We saved him."

Jiang Cheng wouldn't listen to any of this. Their combat power was not something these obviously malnourished men could compare to. Jiang Cheng quickly controlled the lead mustache man, Huai Yi took care of the one behind him, and then guarded the door. Fatty, relying on his size, used his body to pin the remaining two men against the wall, unable to move. Before long, the two men began to roll their eyes, looking like they were about to suffocate.

This series of coordinated movements made Mu Qing tremble with fear. He couldn't imagine what these people had gone through to achieve such tacit cooperation.

Jiang Cheng let go, and the mustache man, with only half a breath left, fell to the ground.

"Who are you, and what do you want from us?" Jiang Cheng searched the mustache man for weapons. Fatty and Huai Yi also clutched the weapons they had seized from the half-dead men, looking at the old man with wary expressions.

"I'm the town elder." The old man seemed very calm. On the contrary, the look in his eyes when he looked at them even carried a hint of surprise. "I know what happened to you. I can help you."

"How did he become like this?" Fatty held his weapon and shouted loudly, trying to appear fierce.

"Your friend was attacked by crows, many, many crows." The old man's face turned ugly as he said this, as if he was recalling the scene at the time. "The crows knocked him down, and they ate his calves, leaving only bones."

"You people are carrying a curse. Unless the curse is lifted, you will never be able to leave this town. If you leave rashly, that will be his fate." The old man looked at Ouyang Huanbin on the bed and explained, "We found him on the only bridge leading out of town. At that time, the sky was dark, and all the crows in the town were concentrated there."

Jiang Cheng went over to check Ouyang Huanbin's injuries. The old man didn't seem to be lying.

Moreover, Ouyang Huanbin seemed to have gone mad. Removing the gag, he shouted like a madman, making meaningless noises. Unable to calm him down, Jiang Cheng had to gag him again.

"What can you do to help us?" Jiang Cheng turned to look at the old man.

Seeing that the emotions of several people had stabilized, the old man gestured for them to sit down. "How much do you know about Dakrosza Manor?" The old man sat back in the chair behind his desk.

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng took out the book and placed it on the table, its meaning self-evident.

The old man shook his head. "The records on this aren't entirely true. The history of Dakrosza Manor is much more complicated and much darker than you think."

The old man took a deep breath, and his slightly cloudy gaze looked out the window as his thoughts began to drift back in time. "It was a terrible era, a terrible era that you can't fully understand." The old man's lips trembled slightly. "At that time, people blamed all disasters on witches, saying they should never be forgiven."

"Witches were hunted down in large numbers, but soon, people became more and more insane. They became bloodthirsty, and the definition of a witch became increasingly vague in the massacre. In the end, even a woman with a mole on her chest was identified as a witch, tied to a tree, and hanged alive."

"No one trusted anyone. People reported each other, and more and more people were implicated. At this time, some kind people stood up and began to use their abilities in private to help these poor women as much as possible."