The moment Joey finished speaking, a deathly silence fell over the group.
Mi Pang gaped, his eyes bulging in disbelief.
Joey waved a hand in front of his face and asked with heartfelt concern, "You okay, fatty?"
"Urgh-"
Before anyone could react, Mi Pang shot away, crouched on the ground nearby, and vomited. One hand kept pounding his lower abdomen while the other reached into his mouth to gag himself.
The others exchanged looks, their faces grim.
Chris and Anderson stripped off their clothes and threw them into the fire, as though they were contaminated with a virus.
Even that wasn't enough. The two hurried back into the cabin, presumably to change.
Ignoring everyone else, Joey buried the fish along with the fire. Yet white smoke still rose from the sand, carrying that lingering aroma.
Left with no choice, he fetched a basin of water and poured it over the spot, finally getting rid of the smell.
Only when everything was done did he let out a long sigh of relief.
The three girls huddled together. Judging by their expressions, they still hadn't recovered from what Joey had revealed.
He walked over and said softly, "Finally sorted that out. None of you could have come to give me a hand?"
The three girls turned to look at him blankly. Margaret spoke first.
"You weren't scared at all?"
She had practiced medicine for years, yet even now she struggled to compose herself. She couldn't understand how Joey could remain so calm.
Joey said jokingly, "What's there to be scared of? Would you believe me if I said I'd seen worse?"
The others might not have believed him, but Annie gave him a particularly strange look.
She said, "This is all your fault. Couldn't you have put it a little more gently?