347 Zombie and Werewolf (1/2)

Running ahead of the group was Maric. His disheveled hair was completely blown back by the wind, and his expression was twisted and hideous.

He was even faster than a steam locomotive at its peak speed. With a whoosh, he arrived at the entrance to the clearing.

But even so, he was still unable to escape from his pursuers.

The closest figure to him was a man who had the same pale complexion as himself, with indistinct, dark patches on his face, as if they were healing marks from rotting wounds. The malice in his eyes was completely undisguised and unrestrained. He looked more like a zombie who was craving fresh flesh rather than a human being, and Klein guessed that he was Jason, a Sequence 6.

The distance between Jason and Maric remained within seven or eight meters, sometimes lengthening; sometimes shortening. This repeated again and again, as they ventured back and forth.

More than ten meters behind them, a figure was left far behind. It was a thin but muscular man; his hair was shaved very short, and his hair stood erect like spikes.

As he swung his arms, the tip of his palms flashed with a metallic light, reflecting the weak crimson moonlight. Those were black fingernails which were as long as daggers!

Werewolf Tyre… Klein chanted the person's Sequence and name silently. In his mind, the wall that was splashed with blood appeared in his mind. It was a scene with intestines and limbs splattered all over the ground.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Maric used all his strength as he ran while Jason gritted his teeth and ran as fast as he could. At some point, the healed dark spots on his face began to swell, as if some sort of rotten liquid was about to ooze out.

The two of them left the puddles of water and moist soil that were turning into white frost in their wake.

The withered weeds were lifted up by the wind created by the two of them. As they slowly fell down, they began to rot and decay at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Suddenly, a pale hand reached out of the frosted soil and accurately grabbed Jason's ankle.

Pa!

Jason twisted his body and forcefully kicked out, breaking the hand's wrist and sending it flying. The remaining stump's flesh and blood had long since rotten, and white maggots struggled to squirm outwards.

Maric stopped, pinched his lips with his right hand, and let out a shrill whistle.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The soil in different parts of the clearing were lifted, and the expressionless corpses sat up.

At the same time, a chilly wind suddenly swirled. Countless transparent shadows seemed to have caught the scent of a bloody feast, and none of them wanted to fall behind as they rushed towards Jason. Some pulled his arms, some pulled his calves, and some even hugged his head.

Jason stopped and grunted.

The shadows flew out, one after another—some of them screamed miserably and disappeared, while others stayed in their original spots, lost.

At almost the same time, Maric and Jason both raised their right hands, thumbs held up beside their forefingers, with their index fingers aiming at each other.

Silently, the air between them exploded as black wisps of air billowed upwards.

Maric took a step back, and a few strands of his disheveled hair withered in a blink of an eye and fluttered to the ground.

”Maric, you're still so weak. You still don't understand how to use the power of desire!” Jason said with a low, hoarse laugh.

At this moment, Werewolf Tyre had already arrived at his side. As for Steve, the Sequence 5 Beyonder in charge of the operation, was nowhere to be found.

”Don't be in such a hurry to finish off Maric. Wait for Sharron to come and save him, Lord Steve is about to arrive,” Werewolf Tyre whispered to Jason.

He then extended his bright red tongue and licked his lips.

”I wonder what Sharron will look like when she has her clothes off…”

Before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly saw Jason turn his head. His face was deathly pale, and there were two identical figures in his eyes.

Black regal dress, light blonde hair, exquisite face, and pale skin!

Pa!

He struck out with both palms and gripped Werewolf Tyre's neck. The creaking sound of bones giving way sounded out.

Wraith Sharron had attacked!

Tyre inhaled sharply, making his neck bulge like a water pipe. It grew strands of stiff black hair and briefly resisted the force that would snap his windpipe and neck.

His eyes gradually rolled backward, showing its whites as his red tongue hung out and sticky saliva drooled down his lips.

However, his right hand had accurately reached into his pocket. He had cracked a preset spirituality seal!

The empty clearing, together with the warehouses, suddenly lit up as crimson moonlight filled the entire area.

Jason's grip on Werewolf Tyre's neck began to weaken, and a figure in a small, soft hat appeared behind him.

Tyre's face broke into a smile that was both smug and cruel. His right hand took out a miniature ”full moon” from his pocket, a crimson ”full moon!”

It was a dark red accessory that constantly emitted a serene luster. Shaped like a full moon, it had crimson rubies embedded along its circumference. In the middle was a symbol that symbolized the moon, as well as many other mysterious labels.

Sharron narrowed her eyes instinctively and retreated two steps back. Her incorporeality slowly receded.

Her legs no longer seemed capable of supporting her weight. She fell limply to the ground, her black and complicated regal dress stained with dust and mud.

Werewolf Tyre raised the palm-sized round accessory high up into the air, laughing as he gasped for breath.