"Sticky?"
The word struck the Old Fisherman like a spike. The white-haired old man reacted even faster. He hurried behind the cabin door and examined it carefully by lantern light. A moment later, he couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath.
When the old man turned around, he stared straight at the Former Dynasty corpse. The terror on his face defied description. The thin man's pupils contracted as he let out a shrill cry. "The door... he opened the door! That corpse is alive!"
His words instantly unleashed the fear lurking in everyone's hearts. But the boat was so small—where could they possibly run? With the eerie corpse right there, panic swept through them.
In the end, the Old Fisherman acted decisively. He grabbed a rope and, with the old man's help, tied the corpse tightly to the wooden board beneath it. Throughout the process, both men were on edge, afraid the corpse would suddenly spring up or its tightly shut eyes would snap open. Fortunately, nothing happened.
From beginning to end, the corpse lay still, just like any ordinary corpse. But the unease deep in the Old Fisherman's heart didn't fade; if anything, it grew stronger. Somehow, he sensed that something was about to happen.
Once they were sure the corpse had been secured, everyone left the cabin and closed the door. Only after they could no longer see the corpse did their nerves gradually settle.
"You've all seen the situation. If we want to survive, we have to figure out what's going on here."
As the group's anchor, the old man tried to calm everyone down. Whether they could leave this place alive depended entirely on how they handled what came next.
Things looked grim. After all, everyone who had come before them had failed to return alive.