Lu Yuan leaned against the wall with his eyes closed.

But he didn't fall asleep.

Once the room quieted down, his mind became even clearer.

Martin's breathing was very soft, with the occasional groan or two.

The woman stood by, not moving.

The sky outside the window gradually brightened.

Just when Lu Yuan thought he could rest for a while, he heard hurried footsteps outside the door.

"Mr. Lu!"

It was Hermann's voice, tinged with anxiety.

Lu Yuan opened his eyes, stood up, and walked over to open the door.

Herman stood in the doorway, followed by two men with panicked expressions.

The cigarette holder had gone out sometime ago, and he didn't relight it; his face looked terrible.

"Something's happened." Herman's voice was hoarse. "We checked around and found that seven or eight people had been splattered with pus."

Lu Yuan frowned.

"What are the symptoms?"

"Most of them are fine, just some small bumps on my arms and shoulders." Hermann paused, his voice lowering, "But there are two..."

He didn't finish speaking, but his expression said it all.

Lu Yuan remained silent for a moment.

"Where's the mayor?"

Hermann paused for a moment.

"...I don't know." His tone was a little strange. "I sent someone to call him, but he said he wasn't feeling well and couldn't come out."

Feeling unwell?

Yesterday, when they were hunting sandworms, the mayor even played the bone flute himself. Today, with such a major incident, he claims to be "unwell"?

Lu Yuan kept this question in mind and didn't ask any further questions.

"Take me to see those two people."

On the edge of town, there is a low stone house.

A number of people, mostly young and strong men from the town, stood around the house, carrying torches and various weapons.

Their faces were filled with fear and anger.

But more than anything, there was confusion.

As Lu Yuan approached, the crowd automatically parted to make way for him.

"They're inside." Herman stopped at the doorway, his voice tense. "We're afraid to go in, afraid of getting infected."

He paused, then added.

"Inside are old Hans' two sons."

Old Hans

Lu Yuan recalled the name the townspeople had mentioned during their conversation last night.

"...Old Hans' son hasn't returned yet..."

So that's what happened.

Lu Yuan glanced at Hermann and pushed open the door.

The room was dimly lit, with only a sandworm oil lamp lit in the corner.

The air was filled with a fishy, ​​stench so strong it made one want to vomit.

Lu Yuan's gaze fell on the center of the room.

Two people.

Or rather, something that once belonged to a person.

One of them was huddled in a corner, trembling all over.

His face was completely unrecognizable; countless eyeballs of all sizes protruded from under his skin, covering his entire head.

Those eyeballs are still moving.

They all looked at Lu Yuan.

The other one is even more terrifying.

His skin turned brown, covered with ring-shaped grooves like the patterns of a sandworm.

His limbs were twisted at an impossible angle, and he lay sprawled on the ground like a molting worm.

His mouth was open, and he was making a hissing sound.

At the edge of vision, gray and white text quietly emerged:

[Target for testing: Individuals with severe contamination (late stage)]

[Status: Irreversible alienation, personality completely lost]

After reading the prompt, Lu Yuan's gaze lingered on the two bodies for a moment.

He noticed a detail.

The mutated creature that had become a "sandworm" had skin patterns that were almost identical to the mutated sandworms we had hunted yesterday.

This is not a typical case of pollution spreading.

This desert does indeed have sources of pollution.

Lu Yuan kept this discovery to himself and turned to leave the house.

Outside the door, the crowd waited quietly.

An elderly man with gray hair stood at the front, his cloudy eyes staring straight at Lu Yuan.

There was no anger or fear in his eyes, only an empty expectation.

Judging from this, it should be old Hans.

"It's beyond saving."

Lu Yuan spoke, his voice calm.

Old Hans swayed slightly.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.

Someone reached out to help him, but he shook them off.

"...I know."

Old Hans's voice was dry and hoarse; the last glimmer of hope had finally been extinguished.

"I've gone in and checked."

He lowered his head and looked at his calloused hands.

"That's not my son anymore."

silence.

The wind blew from the desert, whipping up fine sand that hit people's faces.

"What should we do?" Hermann's voice came from the side.

"Burn them," Lu Yuan said expressionlessly, "before they completely transform into something else."

A commotion broke out in the crowd.

"Burned?" a trembling voice asked. "Burned alive?"

"They're not alive anymore," Lu Yuan said calmly. "You saw it too."

The man stopped speaking, but his expression was complex.

Old Hans looked up at Herman.

"Old He, can I borrow your light?"

Herman paused for a moment.

"you..."

"I'll order."

Old Hans's voice was calm, so calm that it didn't sound like he was talking about his son.

"I'm the one who brought them up. It's my turn to send them off."

No one speaks.

Hermann was silent for a few seconds, then took out a tinderbox from his pocket and handed it over.

Old Hans took the tinderbox and turned to walk towards the stone house.

His back was slightly hunched, but his steps were very steady.

He paused when he reached the door.

"Close the door."

Two young men stepped forward and tremblingly pushed the door shut.

The moment the door closed, a piercing screech came from inside.

"Bang!"

Something hit the door, causing the wooden planks to shake violently.

"Hold on!" Herman rushed forward and braced his shoulder against the door.

The group realized what was happening and rushed forward.

Old Hans stood by the window, holding a tinderbox, motionless.

He was listening.

Listen to what's going on inside.

The hissing grew sharper and sharper, mixed with sounds of impact, scratching, and some kind of sticky wriggling.

Old Hans's hands were trembling.

But his eyes were very dry.

"Powder," he said, his voice hoarse. "Give me the powder."

Someone handed me a cloth bag.

Old Hans took it and sprinkled the grayish-white powder in through the window.

The powder meant to combat sandworms has now fallen on the polluters.

The hissing sounds inside grew even more piercing.

Old Hans opened the tinderbox and looked at the tiny flame.

His lips moved, as if he were saying something.

Lu Yuan was too far away to hear clearly.

But he saw that old Hans' eyes were red.

Then, the fire tinder was thrown in.

"boom!"

The flames spread instantly.

The screech grew sharper and more mournful.

Then, it gradually weakened.

Finally, complete silence fell.

Old Hans stood by the window, looking at the firelight inside, without saying a word.

The grayish-white flames reflected on his face, flickering on and off.

No one came forward to bother him.

Lu Yuan stood aside, shifting his gaze from old Hans to the burning stone house.

Grayish-white flames danced on the earthen wall, and thick smoke billowed from the windows and door cracks.

A strange smell filled the air.

It wasn't the usual stench of burning, but something much more pungent.

Lu Yuan frowned.

This smell...

He had smelled something similar in Grimport before.

It couldn't be the Deep Sea Church; this is a desert after all. So who could it be? Is it a coincidence?

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