Green Frog Hospital, staff dormitory.
Yu Kun, drenched in blood, lay collapsed in a pool of blood amid scraps of flesh, gasping heavily.
Only a few short minutes had passed from the first ray of morning sunlight piercing through the window lattice to the brilliant white light pouring down from the sky.
All the ghosts vanished in the light. White smoke, like dust and mist, settled onto the ground, leaving behind not even a severed limb.
The blood and flesh covering the floor all came from Yu Kun himself.
At that moment, not a single patch of intact flesh remained on his body. His entire left palm had vanished, and his arm was as uneven as fish skin stripped of its scales. Overlapping bite marks covered his body, blood gushed out in streams, turning him into a blood-soaked man.
But he was still alive.
His right hand had remained tightly clenched around his machete, held in a defensive stance, allowing him to carve out a slim chance of survival amid the relentless attacks of the ghost horde.
Even though the danger had passed, his five fingers remained stiffly locked around the handle, as though he wanted to embed it into his flesh and make it part of his body.
Anyone who thrived in the underworld was a ruthless character, and Yu Kun was no exception.
Used to a life of licking blood from the blade, he found little difficult to adapt to even in an Instance—it was merely a matter of changing the targets of his fights from people to ghosts.
After all, no matter where or when, the same law of the jungle applied.
Survive, make obscene profits, don't get eaten—eat others instead.
"Damn it, I should've just put a knife in that brat." Yu Kun sucked in a