Guanyin Village.
Zhao Laoda followed Yi Lianhai into the village. The fog was still thick, and although it obscured their vision, it also provided them with good cover.
The living corpses in the village had already gathered into a crowd, shambling back and forth through the fog just like zombies in a movie.
Watching their indistinct silhouettes, Zhao Laoda felt his heart pound with fear. "How did they end up like this..." he murmured.
"Sacrifices." Yi Lianhai was also watching the blocked intersection ahead. As soon as the living corpses moved aside a little, they could find an opening to rush through. "Simply put, your village was sold off to a so-called god. But there are benefits too. Look, even though they're dead, they still have their own consciousness."
Zhao Laoda was an educated man, and he picked up on something odd in those words. "Their bodies are dead, but they still have human consciousness. Doesn't that amount to immortality?"
Yi Lianhai clicked his tongue. "It's not that simple. To use an analogy for the body and soul, a living person is like an unopened bottle of drink. Someone who dies naturally is like a drink reaching its expiration date. It goes bad."
"But the people in your village are more like bottles with their caps twisted right off. They might still look fine, but the drink inside keeps spoiling. In other words, the souls of your fellow villagers are already decaying beyond control."
As he spoke, a terrifying howl suddenly came from the fog.
Yi Lianhai's eyes lit up. "Look!"
Zhao Laoda looked over. He couldn't make out the face clearly in the fog, but a figure was throwing its head back and howling at the sky. More and more "worms" wriggled through its body, until finally... it burst.