As the old man saw Grey still standing where he was, alive and breathing, he could not help but let out a harsh, grating laugh filled with self-deprecation. But given his current appearance, his skeletal frame, sunken cheeks, and skin stretched tight over brittle bones, the laughter sounded less like mockery and more like something born from madness. The scene looked grotesque, bizarre, and deeply unsettling.
The laughter had not even finished echoing through the air when the old man suddenly convulsed. His body bent forward sharply, and he spat out a mouthful of blood. The blood was pitch-black, thick like sludge, and carried a nauseating stench that assaulted the senses the moment it hit the ground.
Yet the instant that foul blood left his mouth, something strange happened.
