Vivian walked out of the city gates. His steps were slow, unsteady. After a few moments, he stopped and looked back.
The city stood there, silent and familiar. He let out a long sigh.
This would be the last time he saw this place.
He didn't know if he would ever return.
But one thing was certain, if he did come back, he would most likely be a dead man by then.
That thought passed through his mind as he turned around and started walking again.
Then—
Cough. Cough. Cough.
His body shook violently. He hurried to the side of the road and leaned against the wall.
The coughing grew worse.
With each cough, his face became paler, and a sharp pain tore through his chest, as if it were being crushed from the inside.
Cough. Cough.
A mouthful of dark, dead blood spilled from his lips and fell to the ground.
The coughing finally stopped.
Vivian looked at the blood and gave a bitter smile. This was the third time today.
And it wasn't even noon yet.
