Hangzhou, the plague quarantine zone.
Rows of beds stood beneath white tents. The people lying on them were covered in festering sores, clustered thickly across their arms and cheeks.
Dark blotches marred their faces, their skin was terribly dry, and they kept begging for water.
But no matter how much they drank, it did nothing to ease the agony inside their bodies. Instead, the strange fluid seeping from their sores only flowed more profusely.
Cries of pain rose and fell throughout the quarantine zone, from the elderly, from women, from adults, from children...
The adults were trapped in their suffering, their eyes filled with fear of this unknown plague. From time to time, they looked toward the Healing Element mages walking among them, hoping to receive treatment.
But even these experts in medicine and potions were powerless now.
The children, meanwhile, remained innocent and carefree, darting between the beds in the quarantine zone. They had no idea what awaited them.
Outside the quarantine zone, several leading authorities on the Healing Element sat around a makeshift conference room inside a tent. They could do nothing to treat the patients; all they could do was count down the time the infected had left to live. Never before had they felt so helpless.
"Mr. Lu, we only have four days left. After four days, every patient in the first wave will end up like that corpse we saw last time. The total number is..."
A middle-aged man in a white coat and cap spoke with a grim expression, hesitating to finish.
Hearing this, Mr. Lu raised a hand, signaling that there was no need to report the number. He knew better than anyone how many people had been infected in the first wave.
That was not what troubled him most. What truly made