Gao Yang could distinctly feel that the unusual atmosphere was emanating from the alley behind him. He no longer wished to prolong this standoff: *If it’s a blessing, I’ll embrace it. If it’s a curse, I can’t escape it. Might as well charge headlong into it.* Still... he had to be cautious.

He glanced at Wang Zikai. “You’re coming with me.”

“No problem!” Wang Zikai responded eagerly, full of excitement.

They stepped into the alley, its entrance worn and decrepit, the buildings within abandoned and slated for demolition. Only one or two flickering streetlights remained, casting an eerie, dim glow.

As they ventured deeper into the narrow, dark passage, Wang Zikai’s initial enthusiasm began to fade. He swallowed nervously and picked up a brick from the ground, clutching it tightly in his hand.

Suddenly, Gao Yang reached out and stopped him, shouting into the darkness ahead, “Who’s there? Come out!”

A few seconds later, a figure emerged, staggering. It was a man, short and stout. As he stepped into the dim light, Gao Yang finally recognized him.

“Pang Jun?”

Pang Jun wore a faded grey T-shirt, his face pale, his expression vacant, and his steps unsteady. He heard Gao Yang call and responded faintly, “Yeah.”

“What are you doing here?” Gao Yang asked.

“Yeah… what *am* I doing here…” Pang Jun rubbed his head, suddenly startled as if something had come to him, and screamed, “Ah!”

Pang Jun scrambled forward, grabbing Gao Yang by the arm. “Brother Yang! Help me! Save me!”

“What’s wrong? Tell me slowly.”

“I… I don’t know… something’s wrong… I’ve been bitten…” Pang Jun stammered, his thoughts jumbled.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Bitten? By what? Where? Be clear,” Gao Yang urged, his concern growing.

“My hand… my hand…” Pang Jun stretched out his right hand. “It’s not right…”

Gao Yang took a look: it was perfectly normal, with no visible injury.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Wang Zikai chimed in, stepping closer to inspect, his tone dripping with disdain. He snickered, “You’ve probably been, uh, indulging too much and now you’re hallucinating…”

But as he spoke, a faint gurgling sound came from Pang Jun’s pudgy hand, and suddenly, a blood-red eye appeared in the center of his palm.

“Whoa—” Wang Zikai jumped back in horror, “What the hell is that?!”

Pang Jun’s whole body trembled as his emotions spiraled out of control. “I don’t know… save me, please, save me…”

Sensing something terribly wrong, Gao Yang was about to step back when Pang Jun’s right hand shot forward, grabbing his throat with an unnaturally strong grip. At the same time, Pang Jun’s hand began to swell, rapidly transforming into a massive, semi-liquid tumor-like mass.

The grotesque mass seemed alive, pulsating and writhing, inch by inch engulfing Gao Yang’s head. He felt no pain, only a suffocating heaviness, as though being wrapped in a rotting, slick flesh cocoon.

Gao Yang pulled a small dagger from his pocket and plunged it into the tumor—but it was useless. The mass swallowed the dagger and then spat it out with a sickening squelch.

Wang Zikai was terrified and bolted. “Help—somebody help!”

Gao Yang was lifted off the ground, and that same terrifying fear he had felt when Li Weiwei nearly crushed his skull came rushing back. He flailed his arms desperately, trying to break free, but it was futile.

Pang Jun remained standing, his grotesquely deformed hand seemingly out of his control. He cried out in anguish, “Help! Somebody help me… what’s happening to me…”

Just as Gao Yang was about to lose consciousness from lack of air, a familiar voice broke through the chaos: “Let him go!”

It was Wang Zikai!

In a rare moment of courage, he had overcome his primal fear and turned back. He charged at Pang Jun and delivered a powerful kick, shouting, “Let go of him!”

His kick sent Pang Jun flying backward, forcing the monstrous hand to release Gao Yang and retreat along with Pang Jun’s body. Just before Pang Jun hit the ground, his grotesque hand braced itself, holding him aloft.

Once he regained his footing, the mutated hand lashed out at Gao Yang again.

At that moment, Gao Yang was kneeling on the ground, coughing violently, unable to flee.

“You bastard—” Wang Zikai stepped in front of Gao Yang, “Try touching my brother again, and see what happens!”

As he spoke, Wang Zikai’s entire right arm suddenly swelled, bursting through his sleeve. The skin of his arm turned rough and hardened to a greyish-blue hue, resembling bronze under the flickering streetlight.