Xu Huo stopped, and the person ahead of him stopped too. The person seated in the wheelchair was obscured by the figure behind it, so he couldn't confirm whether it was another version of himself. But the silhouette behind the wheelchair had a build that was unmistakably abnormal.
It was excessively lanky, its height and bone structure out of proportion, like a lump of dough stretched too far.
The person had both hands on the wheelchair, its head tilted slightly forward. Given its height, even if it bowed its head, it would have trouble reaching the person seated in the chair. But judging by its posture, Xu Huo thought the figure behind him was bowing its head in the same way, peering at him.
An illusion?
It didn't seem like one. Xu Huo could feel something behind him, unless something here could completely distort his senses.
He didn't need to see its face to know it couldn't be good-looking. But if it wasn't an illusion, what was it? Surely it couldn't be an Alien!
"Why aren't you moving?" a slurred voice asked from behind his head.
In that instant, Xu Huo's scalp prickled with dread. The voice sounded like a jumble of noises coming from deep in a person's throat, without any help from the mouth or tongue. The words were hard to make out, and the voice had an indescribable, sticky quality, as if something had been stirred together to produce it. Yet somehow, Xu Huo understood exactly what it meant. It was asking why he wasn't moving forward.
Instinct sent a chill down Xu Huo's spine. He didn't dare turn around or respond. After several seconds of silence, he put both hands on the wheels.
The wheelchair began rolling slowly. Footsteps sounded behind him again, and the blurry