Screams echoed around as people fell one after another into pools of blood, torn into pieces. Within a short time, the place turned into a living Hell, an indescribable horror.
The one behind it all, the undying Yang Fan, had already left the rock and stealthily climbed a tree over there, witnessing the hellish scene.
Standing on the tree, Yang Fan was also stunned by the sight. All the animals together, numbering in thousands, had erased any trace of the hundred-plus people; the army of animals left a barren path in their wake.
The chaos lasted a full hour before the scene returned to calm.
Yang Fan looked over there; nothing remained except blood-stained guns scattered on the ground.
He let out a long breath, it was finally over.
He disliked the smell of blood; he jumped down from the tree and quickly left.
Almost a kilometer away, Yang Fan gazed at the gloomy sky and then at the wristwatch. It was already two o'clock in the morning.
