Rescue

By the time Yu Xing and Zhao Yijiu caught up, the performers were already very close to the river.

The one at the front had nearly stepped into the water. A few more steps, and he would plunge into the raging current!

Yu Xing swept his gaze over the riverbank and confirmed there were eight people there. He didn't know where the other five had gone, but they had cotton thread in their hands. If he could save these people, it would undoubtedly help with the deduction.

Fortunately, they were only a few dozen meters away. They sprinted toward them, moving far faster than the people by the river, who were resisting with all their might and inching forward one step at a time.

Only when they got closer did Yu Xing realize that the river was even more turbulent than it looked.

Wave after wave collided, the black water crashing together. Spray flew straight into the people on the bank, and the river's furious roar accompanied it as it soaked their clothes through.

They hadn't entered the water, yet they already looked like they were drowning. Their clothes clung to their bodies, and their mouths hung open as if they couldn't breathe.

Yu Xing and Zhao Yijiu's arrival immediately drew their attention.

The grisly corpses—or, now, more like corpse-skins—turned their heads in unison and fixed their eyes on the two men.

Then the bluish lips on the dead faces curled into smiles, stretching wider and wider until they reached their ears. Streams of black "blood" flowed between their teeth, dripping onto the shoulders of the performers carrying them on their backs.

Perhaps they could smell the foul water. The performers, already in pain, turned even paler.

"Master... Hound God..."

Zhao Ruru, drenched from head to toe, struggled to speak