Their transformation was just as Flora Bloom had seen before: their skin gradually turned a scorched black, the color of ink, as if steeped in venom. It was hideous. But they weren't like ordinary zombies, with twisted mouths, split lips, missing eyeballs, or half-eaten faces. Their limbs were perfectly intact and hard; ordinary weapons were completely useless against them.
If their transformation was allowed to complete, the superpower users on the colossus's back likely wouldn't survive.
"Let me out!" Flora Bloom's gaze toward the man in white grew cold. 'I can't escape, and now I have to watch these new zombies slaughter people right in front of me. This is too cruel.'
"Oh, getting angry, are we?" The man in white's smile widened, as if the suffering of others was his very source of joy.
