Yellow Shirt Fatty

Dear tired Reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, gloomy aisles of the Library.
It is with some regret, however, that I must inform you this book is ill.
Your fingers should be able to feel the raised Proliferation of tissues on the surface of the Skin of the book, 
The words written in days of old are like Parasites taking root in the pages, longing for someone to observe their writhing,
To sense, to decipher, and to touch the very essence of this sick story.
If you insist on borrowing this book, please be sure to regularly check your own physical condition.
Keep in mind.

The Gentleman at the End

Ludwig Reagan gazed at the black skeletons scattered on the ground. Although these bones were temporarily constructed by the Grape, they possessed the texture of being over a hundred years old,


With his ultra-high "Perception" and as a Prototype Master by profession, he could envision an extremely evil black wizard in his mind,


When he reached out to touch the black skeletons that were disintegrating, the image in his mind became more concrete, and even eyeballs emitting black smoke seemed to want to crawl up Reagan's arm, corroding his flesh.


Zzt! A surge of electromagnetic fluctuations caused the eyeballs on his arm to shrivel and fall off.


"William, your pet has great potential,"


"Grape is indeed an important product of the Seven-Day Graveyard; without it, I would have died in the cemetery long ago.


Let's keep moving! We should be close to the real pathway by now."


Chapter 167: Temple on the Mountain Top