Chapter 37

In the quiet of the dead of night, a cold drizzle fell without pause. A mud-stained wooden sign was clawed and scratched, and a massive, dark figure paced back and forth through the brush, its scarlet gaze fixed on a gnawed, bloodied arm clenched in its jaws. A young man collapsed, breathing his last in the mud. He watched with his own eyes as the dark shadow slashed open his chest, plucked out his hot, pulsing, crimson heart, and swallowed it in a single bite. A tattered plush toy was discarded carelessly in the alley, left to be torn apart by frantic, wild dogs. An unnatural, blood-red moon startled the darkness into view. Geng Jing woke with a start, bolting upright to check his surroundings. The little white fox that should have been lying beside him was gone.