Could It Be... These Things Feared Light?

At the front of the bus, Yang Yong was gripping the One-Yang God-Sealing Banner tightly in his left hand and holding the Little Golden Flood Dragon Scissors in his right.

Unlike the night before, he was not sitting in a seat. Instead, he sat cross-legged directly beneath the front windshield.

The lingering light of the Blood Moon outside fell right on that spot.

Wisps of energy were seeping into his skin along with the Blood Moon's light, and he slowly guided them into his body.

Though progress was as slow as a snail's crawl, the gains were real.

The feeling of his strength increasing bit by bit was utterly intoxicating.

Before he knew it, Yang Yong had become immersed in cultivation, oblivious to everything around him.

Perhaps his composed demeanor gave the survivors on the bus the illusion that they were "safe for now." Their conversations grew louder, and some even laughed aloud.

No one noticed the deathly pale arms sprouting one after another like mushrooms after rain in the shadows along the sides of the bus, where the Blood Moon's light could not reach.

Alternating between two fingers, those arms dug firmly into the sides of the bus and climbed silently upward, mere inches from the arms hanging out of the windows.

Just as the fingertips of one pale arm were about to touch an exposed arm, the survivor suddenly turned his head without warning.

Almost at the same instant, the deathly pale arm jerked downward, retreating into the darkness as fast as lightning.

As it turned out, the man had only turned because the air inside the bus was foul, and he wanted to spit out the window.

The thick glob of phlegm landed squarely on the edge of the window, and a few droplets splashed onto the finger that had just withdrawn.

In the darkness, the finger touched by the spit curled in disgust. Then the entire arm retreated deep into the shadows and disappeared.

After spitting, the survivor turned back indifferently and continued chatting animatedly with his companions.

In this apocalypse, where they might not live to see another day, such idle conversations had become one of their few comforts.

The bus traveled another few hundred meters before the road suddenly became extremely rough.

The road seemed to have risen into a series of small mounds. As the wheels rolled over them, the entire bus jolted violently, its chassis groaning with overburdened creaks.

"Fuck! What the hell kind of terrain is this? Why is it so damn bumpy?"

Someone cursed in the darkness.

The complaint immediately drew agreement from the other survivors.

"Yeah, why is this road getting harder and harder to drive on?"

"Where did the SUV up ahead go? We can barely see its taillights anymore!"

Complaints rose one after another, but no one noticed that the deathly pale arms that had disappeared had already skirted the earlier "disturbance" and emerged again. This time, they were even closer to the windows.

The violent jolting finally roused Yang Yong from his cultivation.

His body swayed uncontrollably, and he could no longer remain seated cross-legged. He had to stand and grip the back of the driver's seat with one hand, barely keeping his balance.

His gaze instinctively swept across the bus. The next second, his pupils abruptly contracted!

Several deathly pale arms were silently reaching through the windows, their fingertips already touching the hem of a survivor's clothes!

"Watch out!"

Yang Yong gave a low shout and whipped his right hand outward.

Blue-green and yellow light instantly flared, twisting like two intersecting bolts of lightning as they sheared viciously toward the arms!

Rip-

With a soft sound, the first arm to reach inside was snipped clean in two by the light.

No blood flowed from the severed end. Only a pungent, rotten stench spread through the air.

In the blink of an eye, another four or five arms shot out of the darkness, seized the panicking survivor, and violently dragged him outside!

"Aaaah-!!!"

A scream so shrill that it broke in pitch rang through the entire bus.

Then came a teeth-grating tearing sound from outside, like a wild beast frenziedly ripping into its prey. The sounds of flesh scraping and bones shattering made everyone's scalp prickle and every hair on their bodies stand on end.

Only then did the survivors snap out of their daze. Screams and sobs erupted throughout the bus.

Everyone frantically squeezed toward the center of the bus, desperately trying to get away from those terrifying windows.

Even more horrifyingly, several arms Yang Yong had severed had not fallen outside, but onto the floor of the bus.

The severed arms were still alive, twisting on the floor, their fingertips even twitching faintly. One suddenly sprang up and clamped tightly around a survivor's ankle, actually trying to drag him out the window!

"Turn on the lights!"

Yang Yong roared, and the driver, Old Zhao, fumbled for the switch and pressed it.

Dazzling light instantly flooded the entire bus.

The survivor whose ankle had been caught by a severed arm felt the force on his wrist suddenly slacken. He seized the chance to struggle desperately, ripped the severed arm off, hurled it hard onto the floor, and began stomping on it wildly.

Squelch-squelch-

After a few stomps, the severed arm had been crushed into a puddle of dark, filthy blood.

Seeing this, the other survivors followed suit, stomping wildly on the severed arms on the floor.

In the blink of an eye, the floor of the bus was covered in foul-smelling blood.

"Shut the windows! All of them!"

Yang Yong's roar rang out again.

Only then did everyone come to their senses. In a frantic scramble, they locked every window, moving as fast as if vicious ghosts were chasing them.

Only once all the windows were tightly shut did the sobbing inside gradually subside, leaving nothing but ragged panting from all sides.

Then someone discovered to their horror that the remains of the severed arms, trampled into filthy blood, were sizzling and giving off wisps of bluish smoke under the lights. As though being burned, they melted at a speed visible to the naked eye, finally becoming puddles of black liquid that gave off a pungent stench.

Yang Yong's heart gave a sudden jolt.

The sight looked just like zombies in films and TV shows instantly turning to ash when exposed to sunlight.

Could it be... these things feared light?

Could even ordinary lights keep them in check?

To test this guess, Yang Yong immediately shouted to the driver, "Old Zhao, turn off all the lights! Hurry!"

Though Old Zhao's legs had gone weak with fear, he gritted his teeth and obeyed.

The instant the lights went out, the entire bus plunged into darkness so deep they could not see their hands in front of their faces.

Then everyone saw a sight they would never forget-

Every window of the bus was densely plastered with deathly pale arms!

The arms battered the glass frantically, their knuckles jutting out from the force, producing thunderous bangs. The glass buzzed from the impacts, as though it would shatter in the next second and those terrifying things would swarm inside!

"Aaaah-!"

Desperate screams erupted inside the bus again.

Yang Yong reacted instantly and roared, "Lights! Turn on the lights!"