"That's disgusting. How do I eat it?" Lu Fan, having thrown out the eyeball, handed the rest back to Tang Zheng, then picked one up and examined it closely, which instantly made him feel sick.
The eyeball was the size of a ping pong ball, shaped like an egg, covered in sticky fluid and streaked with blood. It was slippery like a loach, resilient under his fingers. The black pupil on top stood out.
After licking his lips, Lu Fan found he couldn't eat it. He turned to the others, "Who's going first?"
"Think about it being worth seven thousand points, and you won't find it disgusting anymore." Chu Baichuan's righteous words faltered when he brought the eyeball close to his mouth as the overbearing smell of fish made him halt.
All the rest of the team laughed. Their laughter was not mocking, but the friendly kind of teasing among companions.
