To be able to see more clearly, Ai Shan did not wear a hat, allowing the black snow to fall directly onto his face.
The temperature of his skin slowly melted the black snow.
Black acid rain water flowed into the corners of his mouth, and though he kept his mouth tightly shut, water still managed to seep in.
It was bitter, astringent, icy, and carried an indescribable foul smell.
Ai Shan was thin and light.
Hanging on the rope, he swayed in the wind like a feather in the air.
The rope thrown from the opposite building snagged at a spot, occasionally making noises due to Ai Shan's movements.
These sounds gave a constant impression that it might snap at any moment.
Ai Shan, suspended mid-air, surrounded by darkness, with several meters above the ground below, and the relentless roars of zombies, trembled throughout his body.
It's a sin.
Ai Shan couldn't help but wail internally.
The wind swung the rope side to side, and Ai Shan's body swayed along with it.
