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At this moment, the rain had stopped, and gusts of cold wind swept incessantly down the narrow, deserted street, bringing with them an eerie chill intertwined with a strange scent, prompting Ling Mo to involuntarily sniff the air and slightly furrow his brow.
The smell of blood, decay... Even after several days of continuous rain, it could not be completely washed away.
This was a city in constant decay, not just the survivors were dying, but perhaps this civilized world as well.
Ling Mo felt a moment of melancholy, but he didn't notice that Xia Na had been quietly observing the changes in his expression all along.
Moreover, unlike his reaction, when this bloody, decayed scent drifted over, a glint of intoxication flickered through the eyes of both Xia Na and Ye Lian...
