Survival Log Manhua

As they scattered in different directions, their hearts pounding in their chests, Ssamsson could feel the cold tendrils of fear gripping him tightly. His followers, once a source of adoration and support, now felt like distant echoes in the eerie silence of the bunker. The flickering lights cast grotesque shadows on the walls, distorting reality in a way that made his skin crawl. With each step, the darkness seemed to press closer, suffocating him with its oppressive weight. Every corner turned revealed nothing but more corridors stretching endlessly into the unknown. The sounds of his own ragged breaths filled the air, a stark reminder of his vulnerability in this twisted maze. Through the haze of panic, Ssamsson heard a low, guttural growl that froze him in place. Slowly, he turned to face the source of the sound, his eyes widening in terror as he came face to face with a creature straight out of nightmares. Its twisted form loomed over him, exuding a malevolent aura that made his blood run cold. In that moment, Ssamsson realized that survival was not just a game - it was a primal instinct that surged through his veins, urging him to fight against the encroaching darkness. With trembling hands, he reached for a makeshift weapon, his mind racing as he prepared to confront the horrors hidden within the shadows. The livestream had taken a dark turn, plunging the group into a harrowing battle for their lives. In this twisted game of survival, Ssamsson knew that not everyone would make it out alive. And with determination hardening his resolve, he steeled himself for the nightmarish trials that lay ahead, ready to face whatever horrors lurked in the depths of the bunker.