The Strange Old Zhao

"What's wrong...?" Young Little Six stood rooted to the spot, staring at his companions across from him in confusion.

Old Zhao, standing beside him, clutched his stomach and said with difficulty, "What are you all doing, getting so tense? I just had diarrhea, so I asked Little Six to come with me and keep watch for a bit."

"After all, there could be Vicious Ghosts in the woods."

As he spoke, he started forward, intending to continue on.

"I told you to stay where you are!" The short, portly man's gaze grew even sharper.

The spiked club in his hand pointed straight at Old Zhao. If Old Zhao dared take another step, he would strike immediately.

They were out in the wilderness. The moment these two had disappeared, the Mud Ghosts had attacked. The instant the Mud Ghosts had all died, the two had appeared again.

What was more, the remains scattered all over the ground seemed invisible to them. They had even asked why everyone was so tense!

"Brother Wang, what are you doing? Have I offended you somehow?" Old Zhao paused slightly, looking surprised.

"If I've done anything improper, I'll apologize."

By this point, everyone in the caravan had realized that something was wrong with the Old Zhao before them. They all raised their weapons, wariness showing on their faces.

"Old Zhao, look at the ground. There are so many Mud Ghost corpses. Do you have anything to say?" another young Awakened asked.

"What about the Mud Ghosts? Didn't you all kill them?" Old Zhao asked, utterly puzzled.

"Could they get back up and grab you after they died?"

"All right, forget about it. It's so late, and my stomach still hurts. I'm going back to find some medicine."

With that, he started walking toward the group again.