In fact, Li Qiming would never turn into a monster. If he were infected, black blood vessels would have appeared on his body long ago, instead of him remaining perfectly fine after ten minutes.

The moment he uttered a sound, I knew he had woken up. Instantly, tears welled up in my eyes.

"Ah!" The moment he opened his eyes, he felt the pain in his arm and screamed again.

I knelt on the ground and said, "Don't move. You'd better not move right now. Get used to it first."

"I...I'm not dead?" Li Qiming looked at me in confusion.

I said, "Don't worry, you won't die. But you've lost your right hand, I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Li Qiming raised his head, looked at his right arm, and finally closed his eyes, his face full of bitterness, and asked, "What did you say you were sorry for? Where is that fatso?"

“He’s lying right there, not dead yet,” I said.

"Why didn't you kill him!" Li Qiming's eyes were filled with resentment.

“Because I want you to kill him with your own hands,” I said.

Li Qiming was stunned.

Seeing that he was in good condition, I called over the three celebrities to help him up. When Li Qiming saw the middle-aged fat man's condition, he was really shocked.

"This, you did this?"

“Yes, we taught him a lesson,” I said.

Li Qiming said bitterly, "This is far more than just a lesson."

I didn't say much about his complaints. I picked up the machete from the ground, put it in his left hand, and said, "Even though you've lost your right hand, you still have to live. Use this to practice with your left hand and see if you can hit the target."

Li Qiming looked at me with a hint of fear in his eyes, but he did not refuse. He took the machete with his left hand and, without thinking, brought it down.

The middle-aged fat man's head was chopped in two.

(End of this chapter)