143,

Shuttling along the path, following the tracks of the wheels, Mr. Cyclone quickly arrived at the end of the tracks.

The carriage stopped ahead, and Mr. Cyclone smiled briefly.

He saw hope, but in the next moment, Mr. Cyclone also found himself in hell.

The back of the carriage looked normal, with a practical and sturdy wooden body, essential for transporting goods.

But there was nothing in front.

A large opening appeared, as if something had punched it to pieces.

Mr. Cyclone stopped the horse and ran forward.

Nobody was there; aside from the dilapidated carriage and four wheels, both the people and the horse were gone.

From Mr. Cyclone's perspective, even if the thief killed everyone, they would rarely destroy the carriage, because selling slaves captured and brought back on the carriage was easier and faster than finding buyers all over the place, and they could also transport the stolen goods on the carriage directly.

Therefore, the current situation was not caused by the thief.

Then where were the people?

Under the snowy ground, Mr. Cyclone couldn't see any footprints.

Apart from his own footprints, there was nothing else.

This was abnormal; even if something had happened, there should at least be footprints of Dr. Gudas and others escaping.

Without much thought, Mr. Cyclone found an answer: a tiny red dot.

His growing unease made him swallow nervously as he stood between the path and the grass.

A small red spot formed on the white snow.

Mr. Cyclone lightly brushed the surface of the snow with his foot, and the answer immediately came to him.

Blood had scattered here; there used to be a pool of blood not far from the carriage.

This can't be true...

He denied it in his heart and looked again.

This must be a lie...

Unable to speak, the situation had surpassed Mr. Cyclone's expectations.

In this crucial moment, something nerve-wracking happened.

Mr. Cyclone's hand began to tremble. Even when he was at Gudas's house, his hands did not tremble, but now he couldn't control his fear.

What should I do...

Instead of questioning himself about what to do next, Mr. Cyclone wanted to suggest what he should do first.

But it was useless. The moment Mr. Cyclone gave up thinking, he also lost his motivation.

Right before hope was grasped, Mr. Cyclone was plunged into despair.

Suddenly, at that moment, a scream came from the distance.

A young man was screaming.

Mr. Cyclone recognized the voice; it was the assistant of the old doctor.

As the Grim Reaper named Time approached, Mr. Cyclone clenched his fists and mounted the horse once again, galloping towards the direction of the scream.

Unlike the path, where the horses could run freely through the woods, Mr. Cyclone had to control the horse's jumps to prevent himself from falling off.

He couldn't slow down. He had seen footprints and the sound was not far; he should arrive quickly.

Soon, just as Mr. Cyclone expected, he saw three pairs of clear footprints.

At the same time, following their direction, Mr. Cyclone also saw something extraordinary.

A blue and white gigantic figure, a monstrous beast with a pair of long horns.

It was about four times Mr. Cyclone's height, and its massive body emitted an aura of death.

A boy was screaming, running past Mr. Cyclone, trying to escape the beast.

Mr. Cyclone didn't move, allowing the horse to pass far away from the monster.

In that moment, what Mr. Cyclone saw was a man.

Remember, he was the driver of the old doctor's carriage.

Covered in blood, he was snatched up by the monstrous beast.

Time seemed to stand still as Mr. Cyclone watched the moment the man was swallowed by the creature.