The two homeless black men hadn't expected anyone to emerge alive from the tent. Staring at the skeletal face before them, they froze in shock.
Wayne took a deep breath and said with a panicked expression:
"Someone please help Old John? He... he seems sick... coughing constantly and biting people... cough... cough cough cough..."
As he spoke, Wayne coughed violently, then suddenly spat out a bloody phlegm, staring fixedly at the two homeless black men before him:
"I think I've been infected by him... my lungs hurt so much... do you have any medicine? Can you save me?"
Staggering, he moved toward the two homeless men.
The puppy immediately followed closely beside him.
The two homeless men instinctively stepped back, then exchanged glances before hurriedly waving their hands:
"Bro, don't come closer! You'll infect us!"
"Motherfucker, what the hell is that bastard Old John doing?"
After saying this, the two turned and ran without looking back.
In homeless life, the greatest fear was falling ill. What might be a minor illness for ordinary people could become a life-threatening incurable disease for them.
Since this bastard looked like he was about to cough himself to death, they could just come back tomorrow.
As the two homeless men disappeared into the night, Wayne breathed a sigh of relief.
His basic Minstrel Performance skill was still somewhat useful—at least sufficient to deceive two homeless men.
[You drove away two homeless goblins and completed your first adventure challenge! Clever adventurer, your Minstrel Performance (Basic) has been enhanced, progress 10%, EXP +10]
He saw the experience value in the character attributes panel instantly change from 13/100 to 23/100.
Goddammit, this is bullshit!?
Wayne hadn't expected the system's so-called reward to be just performance skill enhancement and experience points.
Although he understood that reaching 100 experience points would definitely bring great benefits, it felt too distant for his current situation.
What he needed now was food, calories, medicine!
Looking at the $5 in his hand, Wayne suddenly remembered what the two homeless men had said earlier about selling corpses.
And he happened to have a ready-made one right beside him.
He quickly took out Old John's phone and scrolled through the contacts. Sure enough, Old John lived up to being a veteran homeless person—Wayne soon found a phone number labeled "Corpse Collector."
He quickly dialed the number, and soon a sweet voice answered:
"Hello, this is Jesuit Saint Mary Biotechnology Company. How may I assist you?"
Wayne struggled to control his trembling from cold and hunger, speaking in a low voice:
"I have a corpse to sell, died today. Cause of death?"
He glanced at the various syringes on the ground, then continued:
"...Injection of multiple types of Enhancement Drugs, consumption of Voodoo Drugs. I'm not sure how many different drugs he actually used..."
The voice on the other end immediately became delighted and quickly said:
"Very well, sir. Please provide the address, and our company will dispatch a professional handler immediately."
Wayne quickly gave the street address before tossing his phone aside.
A wave of dizziness washed over him as intense hunger left him even weaker. Gazing at the dark, empty street in the late night, he felt the bone-chilling cold rain.
In his current state, without food and water soon, he'd likely collapse and die before making it out of this street.
There was no telling when the Corpse Collector would arrive. Until then, he had to replenish his energy.
Food… meat… His eyes snapped to the seagulls perched on the railing.
These gulls had been lingering near the tent, clearly waiting for a feast of human flesh.
Whether due to their meat-heavy diet or not, they were unusually plump.
Ignoring the biting cold rain, Wayne forced open the tent flap and crawled back inside, lying motionless on the frigid ground to play dead.
He gestured to the puppy, which obediently burrowed into his arms, offering a rare warmth.
The stench from Old John's corpse filled his nostrils, making him feel faint and more corpse-like than ever.
Just as he'd hoped, the seagulls took the bait. In the bleak night rain, they began fluttering into the tent.
One, two, three… These birds clearly had little fear of humans. Within moments, seven or eight had entered, most drawn to Old John's body, though two approached Wayne instead.
Wayne lay perfectly still, eyes open. The instant one gull landed on his face, he mustered all his strength to seize its legs and clutch it tightly against his chest.
The puppy wagged its tail and clamped down on the seagull's wing, pulling with all its might—though it was nearly flung off by the struggling bird.
The remaining seagulls scattered in a flurry of wings, fleeing the tent.
"Squawk—!" The plump gull thrashed wildly, its strength nearly overwhelming Wayne's weakened grip.
Wayne sank his teeth into the bird's neck, tearing desperately.
Human bite force proved sufficient to rip through flesh. A warm, salty flow filled his mouth, and he gulped it down eagerly. His stomach, cramped from hunger and cold, reacted like parched earth receiving rain, even rumbling audibly.
Germs and parasites were problems for another day.
Right now, only survival mattered.
The seagull in his hands gradually ceased struggling and fell still. After a few more swallows, Wayne sighed in relief, finally feeling some strength return to his limbs.
[Your combat pet has completed an assist kill. Evolution progress increased by 10%.]
[Combat Pet: Wild Hound (40%)]
Checking his health stats on the interface, he saw it remained at 4/60.
Though he'd staved off death from hypothermia, it wasn't enough—he still needed calories.
Using his dagger, Wayne slit open the seagull's belly and began cleaning out the entrails with the icy rain falling from the sky, haphazardly plucking its feathers.
After a rough cleaning, he gathered flammable materials from the tent—wooden planks, paper, plastic bags—and lit them with a lighter, building a small campfire. Skewering the seagull on a Voodooism-patterned stick left behind by Old John, he began roasting the meat.
The rain fell heavier, filling the tent with thick smoke. Though it was somewhat choking, Wayne cared only about the piece of meat in his hand.
This was meat—life-saving meat.
Slowly, the flames roasted the fat from the seabird, causing it to drip with a sizzling sound. Finally, the charred aroma of fat wafted through the air.
Seeing that the outer part of the meat was cooked, Wayne eagerly grabbed it and took a large bite.
"Hss... hss..."
Hot.
The rich scent of protein and fat spread in his mouth. Whether the meat was sour or not no longer mattered.
Ignoring the burning heat, he chewed a few times hastily and swallowed.
He continued roasting and eating, occasionally tearing off a piece to toss to the emaciated puppy beside him.
For both man and dog, this unsalted, unseasoned seagull was an unparalleled delicacy!
Unconsciously, his health points had returned to 5.
[The hungry adventurer has obtained roasted meat. Health restored, returning to the Execution Line threshold.]
A line of text appeared on the panel before him, and Wayne breathed a sigh of relief.
At least he wouldn't be executed within the next few hours.
But merely recovering to 5 health points was far from enough. He needed more energy—at least above 10 points.
This seagull couldn't go to waste.
In such a life-or-death situation, every calorie was precious.
Screech— The sound of brakes came from outside the tent, followed by footsteps. A figure wearing simple protective clothing, a mask, and goggles stood at the tent entrance.
Wayne, clutching half a seagull with blood smeared all over his face, abruptly looked up at the newcomer.
Old John's corpse, the Voodooism barrel, the fire pit, the smoke, the half-eaten seagull, scattered syringes on the ground, blood splattered across the tent, and Wayne—face covered in blood like a wild beast—all combined into a shocking scene that left the visitor momentarily stunned. A familiar phrase slipped out instinctively:
"Holy shit!"
Hearing that perfectly enunciated "holy shit," Wayne raised an eyebrow.
Was this person from the East?
[You have encountered a mysterious merchant from the East. Completing your first transaction will grant you a reward.]