The sky gradually darkened, and a gust of wind whistled by, carrying a torrential rain, pouring down, hitting the broad leaves of the forest, and the sound of "pop" kept ringing. The young fish-man Gologoro knew it was a trumpet of nature, and that the storm season of the year was about to begin, and that was not a good thing.

Goluo Golo is a freshwater fish-man, and his people live on this archipelago, although the fish-people are good at water, but in the season of the storm surge, life is really inconvenient. It's not that they can't survive in the sea, it's just that they don't feel that comfortable.

What really annoys the fishmen is that whenever the storm surge comes, emissaries from the deep sea come to ask for a year's worth of offerings from the island's volcanoes.

After years of mining, most of the minerals from volcanic eruptions have been mined and sorted, and in recent years, fish people have been forced to go deep into volcanic caverns, endure dryness and heat, and even terrible lava monsters to extract ore.

Although the freshwater fish-people are much more docile than the deep-sea fish-people, it doesn't mean that they won't resist, but after the rebellion was eliminated by half the tribe last year, no fish-people dared to oppose this idea anymore.

However, due to the death of half of the tribe's fishmen, the labor force is completely insufficient, and this year's mining volume has not been exhausted so far. Now that the storm has come, no one knows what kind of punishment the fishmen will receive.

"It's good that I'm going to move away," Goluo thought as he threw the tribe's reserve of grain into what he had made by hand, what could be called a wheelbarrow, "while all these idiots have gone to the volcano, I need to save some food, and I can't starve to death." ”

In fact, Goluo Goluo is a very special fishman, he has no team spirit, and his intelligence and hands-on ability are much stronger than other fishmen, since the last massacre, he has been terrified, and finally decided to move out of the tribe, build a new grass hut near the water source, and be busy stealing the tribe's food all day long.

The intelligence of the fish-men is not high, and a small number of elderly people have been killed by the messengers of the deep sea because of the decline in their working ability. As a result, even though he had stolen a lot of food, the other fishmen remained unaware, except occasionally that they suddenly felt that there was not enough food to eat.

After moving the cart of food, Goluo Goluo returned to his hut and looked at the herald of the storm. Goluo Goluo, who had managed to calm down, became anxious again, and he wondered if the Deep Sea Emissaries would pull him out and punish him harsher when they punished the Fish-Man tribe, though it might just be because he thought so highly of himself that he was narcissistic.

The torrential rain continued, and the wind from the sea became more and more violent, until one day, Goluo Goro found a huge waterspout rising from the sea fog in the trees, and the bad memories burst out in an instant, and he hurried back to his hidden grass hut, curled up and lay on the ground.

With the arrival of the waterspout, thunder flashed in the clouds, and the roar spread throughout the sea, and the messenger of the deep sea descended on this island, and even the irritable giant crocodile in the past had to shrink into the mud, not daring to be presumptuous.

The roaring thunder lasted for a long time, and poor Goluo Goluo also curled up on the ground of the grass hut for half a day, and as the thunder gradually became blurred and distant, the sound of the rain gradually took over. It wasn't until the thunder completely dissipated that Goluo Goro raised his head in a cower, but was so frightened that he immediately curled up.

It was a scarlet color, dark red clouds covered the sky, scarlet rain sprinkled across the island, and even the river became scarlet and cloudy.

Life and death fought in Goluo's mind for a long time, either out of curiosity or to find a way to live, but Goluo Goro still staggered out of the grass hut, and was too frightened to stand up for a while.

"Is this blood?" Goluo picked up a branch that had been blown off by the wind, sniffed it lightly, and found a faint smell of blood. He plucked another leaf and put the blood stained on it in his mouth.

As soon as he entered the mouth of "vomiting ......", a sense of decay and blood filled the entire mouth, and even as a fishman who had no problem eating scavengers, Guoluo Guoluo couldn't bear it at all. Although it tasted like rotten blood, the actual reaction was like a poison that the body strongly resisted, causing Goluo Goluo to vomit.

This series of actions made Guoluo Guoluo finally accumulate strength and courage exhausted, and he fell into the mud without holding it all at once, and he couldn't get up for half a day.

As he threw himself on the ground, a slight tingling sensation spread from all over his body, at first just a nail scratching and stinging, which became more and more intense as time went on, so much so that Goluo Goro couldn't help but scream.

He crawled desperately into the grass hut, but the strength of his whole body seemed to be stripped away, and he couldn't move his hands and feet, but the pain became more intense under the stimulation of the rain, and there seemed to be some living thing under his skin, slowly arching one by one, like scarlet veins, constantly beating, and it looked particularly twisted and strange on his blue-green skin.

As time passed, the intense pain blurred Goluo's consciousness, and those scarlet meridians slowly converged, and sarcomas appeared on his body, and his skin was torn inch by inch, revealing pale white and salmon flesh, and these fresh flesh gradually became crimson and hardened under the stimulation of the scarlet rain, and condensed into a carapace.

These painful changes seemed to restore a little strength to Goluo Goluo, and he tried his best to pounce, and finally hid under the grass hut, no longer soaked in blood. But the heavens seemed unwilling to let him go, and the sarcomas on his body were like buds, suddenly bursting open, splitting into flesh and blood flowers, and Guoluo Guoluo, who had been stimulated by the pain and couldn't speak, let out a terrible scream again, adding a bit of horror to this dead forest.

The flowers of flesh are still changing, or the flesh is rotting and turning into yellow-green pus, or it is torn again, slowly growing tiny fangs, or the flesh is twisted into strands and turns into scarlet tentacles. And these so-called mutations are as if they have self-thoughts, swinging and closing with different trajectories.

Whenever a mutation is formed, it is as if a steel nail has been nailed into the soul, bringing an extreme, detached pain from the body. Now, Goluo Goro couldn't even be unconscious, he only felt that his existence was getting lower and lower, and his soul seemed to be parasitized by these chaotic and twisted things.

"I ...... Don't want to...... Die...... Ahh

His instinct for survival did grow stronger, and slowly, his soul began to conform to the mutations, to cater to them. It was as if he had gone from being a crucified prisoner to a riveted ship, which made him more resilient, albeit with more pain. And his consciousness became more blurred, and even fell into a dull silence, and he collapsed in the grass hut.

And the fish-man tribe, but none of them are dead, and there is no one who is still alive, those original blue-green fishmen seem to have been turned over, the skin has turned into a crimson flesh wall, and some places still show white bones, and they have all undergone more or less mutations, but they are not as tragic as Guoluo Guoluo. They staggered towards the mine, sleepless and fearless of life and death, even the original lava monsters could no longer scare these fish people, but were broken down into pieces by the fish people.

The forests of the islands have become dead forever, leaving only a mess of furs and bones, and perhaps some animals have survived.