「Several days later.」
In the Fog Area.
Amidst the gray, hazy fog, a tall, sturdy man with a ponytail, dressed in filthy white Formal Clothing, dragged an object that looked like a black tree branch into the small courtyard, his face etched with exhaustion.
THUMP.
He dropped the object on the ground and sniffed. The faint aroma of eggs fried in lard drifted through the air.
CREAK. The wooden door slowly opened, and Daoist Mingde ambled out holding a bowl. He was munching on a large green onion as he glanced at the object on the ground.
"How did it end up looking like this?"
"I don't know. I finally managed to hack it off, but it shriveled up almost immediately." Lin Hui shook his head. He had severed the right arm of one of the Faceless People. When he'd first cut it off, it had been whole and plump, even dripping with transparent blood. But now, only a few minutes later, the arm had withered and shriveled into this state.
