The cabin was cold and damp.
Accompanied by the sound of rushing water, the keel and deck creaked as if they might fall apart at any moment.
In the flickering candlelight, there were ghastly, decaying faces, and in the distance, a few bound coffins thudded loudly.
Damn it!
Ninth Yang cursed under his breath, handing over the package in his hand, and said in a deep voice, "The reward this time has been increased, and next time try to get better goods, don't use such worthless things to fool us!"
Opposite him, an old man with a bluish complexion and pustules on his face took the package with a smile. Inside were taels of silver and a few bottles of pills.
"Yes, yes..."
The old man nodded and bowed, "In these times, dead bodies are abundant, but it takes time to make a zombie. You're pushing too hard."
"That's your problem!"
Ninth Yang snorted, "If you're not willing to put in the effort, there are plenty of people who want to make this money!"
