"Plop."
"Plop, plop."
In the pitch-black, empty Yin Realm of Death, only Lin Yuan's footsteps echoed.
At this moment, Lin Yuan was stumbling, his body was stiffening, and his joints could no longer bend.
Simultaneously, his thoughts were slowing down, and everything before him was becoming blurry.
His sense of smell, touch, and hearing were gradually disappearing.
Rigidification.
Lin Yuan's body was becoming rigid, and if this continued, it wouldn't be long before he completely transformed into a zombie.
Then, he would forever be trapped in this Yin Realm of Death, never to be reborn.
"I can't go on like this!"
"There's no time, time is running out!" Lin Yuan's voice was hoarse, like nails scraping on concrete, sending a shiver down one's spine.
At this time, in Lin Yuan's sluggish mind, emerged the only possible method to escape the Yin Realm of Death.
Suicide!
The words Uncle Qin had drunkenly said in his previous life suddenly made sense to Lin Yuan.
