Chapter 141 Chapter 141. Blood Poison

Chapter 141 Chapter 141. Blood Poison
Blood Poison was a type of infectious disease that silently destroyed a werewolf’s immune system and natural healing ability after entering the body. Someone who carried the disease might show no symptoms at all for many years, but once it became active, even the smallest wound could turn serious. The person’s body would grow weaker day after day until they eventually died from infection or complete physical exhaustion.

Zoria’s face had already been deathly white, but now it became so pale that her skin almost looked transparent. A layer of cold sweat appeared across her forehead. An icy chill ran down her back, and her entire body began to tremble beyond her control.

Michael seemed extremely pleased with her reaction.

“Oh, that’s right. Bring the camera over here.”

He turned around and ordered one of his men, “Record everything that happens later, then send the video to Mr. Hawthorne so he can watch it. He was the one who told me that he wanted to see with his own eyes what you would look like while a group of male wolves raped you.”

A sharp, violent pain suddenly came from deep inside Zoria’s heart.

Her eyes immediately turned red.

In truth, there was nothing surprising about this. Had Zephyr not always been this cruel?

He had tormented her for so many years. When he loved her, he wanted to keep her by his side no matter what it took. And when he believed that she had betrayed him, he could immediately push her straight into hell without the slightest hesitation.

The only one she felt sorry for was the child inside her belly.

She had wanted to protect her baby. She had wanted to give birth to this child safely and watch it grow up. She had never expected that both she and her unborn child might die today, inside a deserted factory like this one.

After being tortured by Zephyr for so many years, almost all of her will to live had already been worn away. She was not particularly afraid of death.

But before she died, she would still have to endure such disgusting humiliation and torture. After that, Blood Poison would slowly eat away at her body, little by little. That was something she could not accept.

Zoria’s hand tightened slightly.

The shard of glass hidden in her palm immediately pierced through her skin and flesh. The sharp, constant pain cleared her confused mind a little and brought her back to her senses.

Michael straightened his body, took a step back, and clapped his hands as a signal for the men to move forward.

Five tall, broad figures immediately closed in around Zoria.

She watched them coming closer to her one step at a time. Almost entirely out of instinct, she pressed her hands against the ground, stumbled to her feet, then turned around and ran toward the factory entrance.

As she ran, her mind went completely blank.

She did not know whether she was truly afraid or not. She only knew that no matter how this ended, she still had to struggle at least once.

She could not sit there quietly and wait for death to come.

Even so, she also understood very clearly that with her pregnant body and her current weak condition, there was no way she could run faster than five strong, fully grown werewolves.

The Blood Poison was still hidden inside their bodies, but it did not seem to have affected any of them yet. Perhaps Michael had given them some kind of medicine that could temporarily suppress the poison and keep its effects under control. Even so, just by looking at the speed and strength of those five men, Zoria already knew that she had no chance of escaping from them.

The sound of footsteps behind her quickly drew closer.

Before Zoria could even make it out of the factory, she felt a powerful force coming at her from behind.

One of the men grabbed her arm and violently jerked her backward.

Zoria’s body was thrown hard to one side. Her back slammed against an old steel pipe with a dull, heavy thud.

“Ah!”

The pain forced a cry out of her.

Before Zoria even had the chance to raise her head, several shadows slowly fell over her from above.

“What are you running for?”

One of the men gave a cold laugh.

“Do you really think you can get away from us?”

Her fall had sent another thick layer of dust rising from the ground.

Zoria began coughing violently. Her breathing grew faster and more labored with every second. The cramping pain inside her belly became clearer and more severe, as though a knife were stabbing deep into her again and again, trying to tear all her organs apart from the inside.

The pain on her face made the men around her laugh with obvious pleasure.

Zoria knew very well that the more pain she showed, the more excited they became. Her weakness would only make their instinctive desire to torment their prey grow even stronger.

She stumbled backward until her back finally pressed against the cold wall.

Zoria opened her mouth and gasped heavily for air. She wrapped both arms around her body, looking as if she had completely lost hope and accepted what was about to happen to her.

Then she suddenly started laughing.

The last thread of reason in her mind had finally snapped.

“Has this little bitch gone crazy from fear?”

One of the men bent down and looked at her.

Zoria lay on the floor with her thin, weak body curled up. Her face was as pale as someone suffering from a serious illness. She looked as though she no longer had even the slightest strength left to fight back.

But just before the man’s hand touched her, he suddenly felt a sharp pain tear through his arm.

He lowered his head.

At some point, a sharp piece of broken glass had appeared in Zoria’s hand.

Using every bit of strength she had left, she drove the shard deep into his arm and dragged it down hard. His flesh was immediately ripped open. Fresh blood sprayed out, staining the man’s entire arm red.

“Ah!”

He screamed in pain and instinctively threw Zoria away from him with all his strength. Several drops of his blood splashed onto the back of her hand and her clothes.

Zoria’s pupils suddenly tightened.

This man’s blood carried Blood Poison.

There was still an open wound in her palm where the broken glass had cut through her skin. If any of his blood touched that wound, she might already have been infected.

Zoria hurriedly clenched her injured hand into a tight fist, but she no longer knew whether that action meant anything or whether it was already too late. Fear flashed through her eyes for only a brief moment before it was quickly replaced by despair.

The man clutched his bleeding arm. His eyes turned bloodshot as he angrily shouted a filthy curse at her.