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Thump, thump, thump...
In the silent black night, the staggering footsteps filled with intense malice grew closer and closer.
But before that, a stench so potent, as if it could scorch one's nostrils, had already made its way into Wang Yuan's bedroom.
His eyes snapped open, and a fleeting green light flashed within his pupils.
Keenly sensing danger drawing near, Wang Yuan's back and buttocks muscles twitched slightly, propelling him up from the bed in a single bound to stand beside the door.
Peering through the crack of the door.
Under the thick cover of night, a somewhat obese figure was approaching closer and closer toward him.
By the moon's faint light, the newcomer's face was purplish-green, already beginning to decay and rot, with a distended belly as swollen as a drum—exhibiting the "Bloat" of the nine post-mortem changes.
Looking at his clothing, it was shockingly the burial attire meant for the deceased.
