My Master is Lin Zhengying

It's just that when you get close at this time, you can clearly feel the evil spirit.

And it is very strong, giving people a strong sense of oppression.

Even vaguely, Nan Chen could already hear the gasping sound of "huhu" from inside the coffin.

That's zombie panting.

Each time is like the last breath.

Extremely depressing and dull.

Nan Chen stood in front of the coffin, frowning tightly.

Lying here is the big boss of the plot.

Knowing him, this crisis can be easily overcome.

Thinking of this, Nan Chen took a breath and said:

"It seems that this old mallet is about to come out of the coffin.

However, you have no chance. "

After finishing speaking, he began to pull out the plug of the oil barrel.

At the same time, he walked to the coffin of Old Master Ren:

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Mrs. Ren, offended..."

After speaking, pour oil into the coffin.

But the oil just dripped on the coffin.

Inside the coffin, there was an ear-piercing sound of "creaking".

It was as if someone inside was scratching the coffin board desperately with his fingernails.

And, the whole coffin.

It was also at this time that there was shaking.

The airtight coffin lid was suddenly lifted.

Next to it, a gap appeared.

A shriveled old hand with gray skin and long nails.

Slowly, it stretched out from the gap in the coffin lid.

Seeing this, Nan Chen felt a "thump" in his heart.

I just felt a chill in my back, hitting the top of my head.

Subconsciously, he took two steps back.

"Zombie, zombie hand..."

But as soon as the hand stretched out, it touched the ink line next to it.

Then there was a scorching sound of "Zi Zi".

The shriveled zombie hand shrank back violently.

Immediately, the entire coffin shook even more violently.

It seems that the things inside are about to break out of the coffin.

When I watched a movie, I was terrified.

Now that I face it in person, I feel even more terrified.

Nan Chen felt his heart go cold.

But things have come to this, and he has no way out.

Gritting his teeth fiercely, the whole person was riding on the coffin board.

With one hand twisting the oil barrel, he poured the kindling oil into the crevice of the coffin.

Now, only to burn it to death.

Only then can it be restrained in advance, and let the old zombie, the old man, come out of the coffin.

Only in this way can the remaining dangerous plots be killed in advance.

The kindling oil "crashed" and flowed down.

Along the gaps in the coffin boards, it dripped continuously onto the body of the zombie inside the coffin.

Perhaps the internal zombies also sensed danger.

The struggle became more violent, and the coffin shook even more violently.

Several times, the coffin lid was jacked up.

But it was because the entire coffin was covered with ink lines.