"Spurt spurt spurt~"
One by one, human heads fell to the ground, and the constantly flowing blood quickly coagulated into dark red plasma, covering the entire deck.
The sticky surface was uncomfortable to walk on, but nobody cared about that because, as the sacrifice continued, the number of people was dwindling.
"Buzz~~" The chainsaw, almost wrapped in blood plasma bags, came to a halt and tried to transform back into a prosthetic, but it stopped.
Holding his head, Charles looked down and realized a piece of human bone was stuck in the chainsaw, which was why it couldn't revert just now.
He pulled out the bone fragment, threw it into the sticky blood plasma, then staggeringly retreated and sat down on a chair behind him.
"Ah... Damn it! This feeling is unbearable, ah!!" Charles, with an expression of agony, lifted his blood-red iron hand and kept hammering his own forehead, each time harder than the last.
