The dim light was like beans, making the simple room appear even more cramped and oppressive under the greenish glow.
The walls were bare, with only a shabby, greasy bedding spread on the floor, its age uncertain.
Gao Xuan looked at his hands, noticing the wide, rough palms and forearms with knotted muscles, exuding a strong sense of power.
He quickly realized something was wrong; there was a piece of rag tied around his abdomen. Removing it revealed a deep, festering wound.
It was unclear whether it was a knife wound or something else; the festering wound was already emitting a foul smell, looking quite frightening.
Gao Xuan flexed his stomach and felt a tingling pain. The wound was so rotten that he could hardly feel any pain.
The only good news was that the internal organs seemed unharmed. However, if the wound continued to fester, he wouldn't last long.
"Things are looking quite bleak..."
