A group of people panicked and surrounded Zhang Fei Xuan and the other two, with the smell of rotten faces and the stench of death so near to their eyes and noses that their complexions changed.
Gao Sishu made a move, using the wall behind him as leverage, his body refracting out of Old Gao's shape, ready to leap out of the crowd. But just as he reached the air, he suddenly paused and fell back down at an even faster speed.
The two looked on in confusion.
"They're all people."
Gao Sishu's voice was very steady, with a hint of 'you're already dead' despair amidst the calm.
Wang Qizheng looked ahead, his pupils narrowing.
Being tall, he could see that since these people had surrounded them, the street behind which should have been empty was now filled with a dense crowd, leaving no space for them to escape.
"Save us..."
The rotting corpses edged closer, further squeezing their space, and it seemed they would soon have nowhere to stand.