416 This is the breeder's curse_2

No bed, just tatami mats laid directly on the floor.

On the floor, a futon was spread out, somewhat yellowed and damp, as if soaked by some murky, viscous fluid. And on top of the futon, a strange tree was growing.

The ghostly aura was emanating from this tree.

The tree was about one point eight meters tall, its species unrecognizable, with roots that had pierced through the bedding and into the floor below. Its branches and leaves spread lushly; the leaves were green, but their veins were red.

The trunk was as thick as a bowl, its bark old and wrinkled, covered in ravines, with knotted bulges crisscrossing its surface like unsightly growths—if you looked closely, it almost seemed as if there were twisted faces crammed together.

Furthermore, the trunk was wearing a vest and pants. The clothes were already tattered, but appeared to have completely fused with the tree, inseparable from it.

A tree that simply made anyone who looked at it feel ill at ease.