A low, piercing shriek echoed through their minds, nearly driving them mad.
"Mr. Francis, can you still hold on?"
With a shotgun in one hand and a cigarette clenched between his teeth, Detective Valentine strode forward. Behind him, Francis panted heavily, utterly bedraggled.
"I-I can't go on much longer, Mr. Valentine."
"Hang in there! Don't let those monsters find us!"
As he roared, Valentine scanned the surroundings.
The situation was absolutely awful!
To be honest, Valentine had never expected things to turn out like this. Earlier, they had sent a telegram through the town post office, but Fang Zheng had never replied. They knew Fang Zheng had gone out on business and probably would not be back anytime soon. So Valentine had decided to solve the problem himself.
In his view, the situation was not yet entirely beyond control. The meteorite that had fallen from the sky had drawn not only the media's attention, but also that of scholars and the government. Things were already terrible: plants and animals were continuously mutating, and scholars had warned that the water supply was contaminated. As long as the media reported all this, the government would surely send a professional team to deal with it—at least, that was what Valentine had thought.
But after that, things took a sharp turn for the worse.
The very next day, they found the corpse of a reporter who had come to cover the incident by the roadside. He had driven off a cliff at nearly breakneck speed and died on the spot.
Then the members of the university investigation team responsible for testing and surveying began disappearing one after another. Not a single trace of them could be found in the entire camp.
Worse still, when they tried to leave, they found their vehicle damaged. The