You made all the streamers on the internet kneel before you when you were asked to make a game.

Brother Long asked the question that everyone wanted to ask, but dared not ask.

This smell is too strong.

They had all smelled the stench of corpses before, in the Village of the Wrongfully Dead and in the Town of Sea Mist; it was a putrid, rotten smell.

But this tastes different.

It was mixed with blood and decay.

It's like... a shady workshop that specializes in high-end leather goods.

However, the raw materials are a bit special.

"Don't...don't scare yourself."

The veteran driver leaned against the wall, his face even more pale than when he was possessed by the shadow ghost.

He had just crawled back from the brink of death and was extremely weak; he was only holding on by sheer willpower.

"Perhaps, it might be where the opera troupe made their costumes and props, and they used some animal fur..."

His voice grew softer and softer.

Because even he himself doesn't believe it.

Lancet walked at the front, and she didn't say anything.

As a forensic pathologist, her sensitivity to smells far exceeds that of ordinary people.

She had already accurately identified several key ingredients from the complex flavor.

Formaldehyde.

lime.

And... human oil.

"What...what is that?"

Brother Long suddenly pointed to the side wall of the passage.

As they ventured deeper, the light from the ghost bride finally revealed the "material" of the side walls clearly.

Those were sheets of skin that had been stretched, taut, and dried...

A complete human skin.

From head to toe, with limbs outstretched, it resembles pieces of clothing drying in the sun, hung on a wall by some invisible hook, forming a continuous "skin wall".

These hides have an eerie waxy yellow color and a glossy sheen.

On some of the skin, there were still dark red blood streaks and light blue blood vessels.

What's most unsettling is the "face" of these skins.

On each face, the outline of a traditional Chinese opera mask was drawn with black paint.

Some had their eyebrows and eyes drawn on.

Some had lips drawn on.

Without exception, none of them were finished.

They are like semi-finished products on an assembly line, waiting to enter the next process.

Everyone swallowed hard; Liu Yedao remained the calmest of them all.

She walked up to a piece of human skin and gently touched it.

It feels tough to the touch, with a strange dampness.

"It has been treated, probably with lime and saltpeter, to prevent corrosion and increase toughness."

"His peeling technique is very professional; the wound is smooth and he cuts all the way through in one go. He's an experienced doctor."

Brother Long felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

"Girl, can we stop analyzing this in such detail? I almost threw up the yang-energy porridge I just ate..."

Just then, the experienced driver, who had been silent all along, suddenly let out a suppressed gasp.

"The thread... the red thread..."

His eyes, blurred from the blood and tears that had flowed through them, were now fixed intently on those human skins.

To others, those human skins were just hanging there.

But in his remaining, eerie vision...

Thin, blood-red threads, finer than a strand of hair, weave and connect between these human skins.

They burrow into the "heart" of one skin and emerge from the "skull" of another, linking these hundreds of human skins together into a single entity.

These skins... are "alive".

Or rather, they are the nerve endings of some enormous entity.

"What red line?"

Lancet immediately pressed for answers.

The experienced driver wanted to say something more, but everything went black before his eyes, his body swayed, and he almost fell over.

"No... I can't see clearly..."

He has overused his polluted eyes to the limit.

It was at this moment.

"Shh...shh..."

"Hiss... hiss..."

A subtle, rhythmic sound drifted from deeper within the passage.

The sound was very soft.

It looked like someone was using sandpaper to polish something.

It also looked like someone was quickly mending clothes with a needle and thread.

In this deathly silent tunnel of human skin, this sudden "working sound" is more chilling than any ghostly wails.

There are people in the workshop.

Or rather, something is "working".

The group exchanged a glance, and without prior arrangement, they slowed their pace and even held their breath.

The red light emanating from the ghost bride seemed to sense the danger ahead, and its radiance diminished considerably, forming only a faint blood-red halo around her body.

Darkness once again became the dominant color.

They pressed themselves against the cold wall, inching their way toward the source of the sound.

It was an enormous underground cavern, as big as several football fields.

On the cave's dome hung crystals emitting a ghostly green light, like will-o'-the-wisps, casting a ghastly green hue over the entire space.

The sound was coming from this enormous cave.

Inside the cave, there are hundreds of huge wooden workbenches.

Behind each workbench sat a figure.

Those figures, dressed in uniform gray shorts, varied in height and build.

They had their heads down, focused on the "job" in their hands.

Some were using a small carving knife to carefully polish the white bones, making a "shh" sound.

Some, however, took needles and thread and carefully sewed the prepared human skin pieces onto the polished skeletons, making a hissing sound as they were sewn together.

Others took paintbrushes, dipped them in unknown paints, and outlined eyebrows, eyes, lips, and noses on the already sewn-up "dolls."

In the live stream, all the viewers were stunned.

They finally understood where those lifelike paper figures on the stage came from.

I finally understand why this instance is called "Reincarnation: Yinshan".

Here, life and death form a bizarre closed loop.

Living people come in and become materials.

Materials were used to create actors.

The actors go on stage to perform and complete the sacrifice.

The remains after the sacrifice will be recycled and used as fuel for the production of the next batch of actors.

An endless cycle of reincarnation.

Endless torment.

Professor Chen suddenly remembered something terrible and quickly reminded him.

Ancient texts record that there is an evil magic in Yinshan called "Living Worker, Dead Substitute".

"From a rootless soul, they are forged into a faceless servant, to toil for eternity, never to be reborn."

"These artisans are themselves imprisoned ghosts."

"The most crucial thing is..." Professor Chen's voice was no longer calm.

"This kind of evil magic has a taboo."

"These faceless craftsmen are jealous of all living beings that possess 'five senses'."

"In their eyes, we who have noses and eyes are all unfinished 'semi-finished products'."

"Once they discover it..."

"They'll treat us like top-grade 'raw materials,' forcibly dragging us onto the workbench for 'processing'!"

"Whatever you do, don't let them see our faces!"