"Can't you grant a dying man his last wish?"
Dongfang Minghui hesitated, inching toward him. She reached out to take the ring, then felt it wasn't quite right. Her hand was already in front of him when she drew it back.
He had merely been infected by the living dead; they wouldn't attack him for that. Besides, these precious records came from observing his infected companions. How could she claim something so valuable for herself?
"Little girl, do you know how much I've suffered since I was infected? Every day, the wound burns unbearably, as though millions of ants were crawling over it. And deep inside, I crave raw meat constantly. I don't want to live like this anymore. Help me. Give me a final release."
"Ninth Sister, since this is his dying wish, take the ring," Qian Wanyu suddenly said. As she spoke, she moved two steps farther inside, stopping near Dongfang Minghui and the bound man. The three of them formed a triangle.
"Huh?"
Even with Seventh Sister's encouragement, she reached out reluctantly.
The change came in an instant. Just as her hesitant hand was about to touch the ring, his bound hand flipped upward, five fingers hooked into claws, reaching to seize her wrist.
His fingernails were pitch-black, with dark red matter clinging to them-probably scraps of flesh.
For some reason, the ropes binding him loosened. A vicious expression spread across his face as he lunged at Dongfang Minghui.
"Aaaargh-"
The little brat crouching on the ground seized the opportunity to pounce at Dongfang Minghui's back.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Dongfang Minghui felt like an absolute fool. These people infected by the living dead clearly weren't decent sorts, yet she had sympathized with his story and been deeply moved. She had practically been ready to sob rivers of