Two minutes later, there was nothing higher than one meter left in front of Murphy.
The scene was so gruesome that Serika wanted to faint halfway through, and in the end could only cover her eyes and cast a Muffliato Charm on herself, burying her head in the sand.
Murphy, meanwhile, had actually been laughing the whole time.
The sight was so deranged that even though Serika could not hear Murphy's laughter, she was still scared out of her wits, curling into a ball and trembling all over.
At last, having satisfied his craving to mow down zombies with a machine gun, Murphy patted Serika and lifted her Muffliato Charm. "Stop hiding over there. Come take a look."
"I'm not looking, I'm not looking!"
"Are you sure? You don't see this every day. There are over a hundred ghosts here."
As Murphy spoke, he mounted a flamethrower behind the roof of the vehicle.
He planned to burn the pile of mangled corpses in a moment. Yersinia pestis feared high temperatures, and burning was the simplest method of sterilization.
"G-ghosts?" Serika cautiously poked her head out, opening a tiny gap between the fingers covering her eyes.
In front of the jeep, corpses lay everywhere. Severed limbs and broken arms were scattered all over the place, and the flesh and blood of nearly a hundred people covered the ground like minced meat that had been repeatedly hacked apart by a frenzied butcher.
But before Serika could feel sick from the sheer impact of the scene, she saw pale-blue, translucent figures rising one after another from amid the chunks of flesh.
Ghosts.
From their appearances, they were clearly the villagers from before.
This many ghosts?
But they had not been wizards while alive!
Murphy, however, looked as if he had expected it. Earlier,