Filthy, chaotic, and unbearable.
The scene before him refreshed Wang Ye's knowledge.
Some demonic humans were eating raw monster flesh, some ravaged the corpses of the refugees who had failed to mutate, and some laughed wildly as they watched the refugees mutate after absorbing the red stream water.
They were no longer related to humans. Only endless desire remained.
Wang Ye hugged Yu Shuiqin with one hand and buried her face in his chest. Feeling her trembling body, he whispered in her ear, "Don't be rash."
He looked around.
There was a pitch-black cave on the left side of the clearing. Demonic humans were guarding it.
Two familiar figures were tied up on the right, sitting on the grass.
It was Huang Zirui and Song Shuyi, who were covered in wounds.
Wang Ye had never seen Huang Zirui like this.
He had always looked like a noble young master. It was almost impossible to see him injured, let alone in such a sorry state.
