"A ghost! A ghost—!"
A bloodcurdling scream, one that sounded completely inhuman, erupted from Zhang Chenghu's throat.
With his hands tied behind his back, he acted like a madman, scrambling to his feet and heedlessly charging toward the shadows in a corner of the plaza, his steps staggering and unsteady.
THUD!
He lost his balance and fell heavily, his chin smacking against the concrete ground and drawing blood.
But Zhang Chenghu seemed to feel no pain. Like a fish out of water, he kicked his legs frantically against the ground, dragging his body inch by inch toward the corner. A large, dark wet patch rapidly spread across his crotch.
He had wet himself in public again!
After finally reaching the corner, Zhang Chenghu desperately curled into a ball, trembling violently. His eyes were wide with terror as he stared at the empty space before him, letting out incoherent, fear-filled howls.
"Don't come any closer! Go away! Get away from me—!"
