"Those who are scratched by the mutated risk mutating themselves," Florence Dawn covered her mouth.
"What? Then what can we do?"
The two middle-aged men were greatly shocked. They frantically scratched their wounds on their wrists. They rushed back to the car, took out bottled water, and started franticly cleaning the wound.
William Cole looked over, seeing the two men's wounds were oozing green pus.
"It's pointless. You are already infected. The bottled water won't wash it away," William Cole shook his head.
The two men, terrified, completely knelt down: "Dr. Cole, please, save us!"
"We...We...We don't want to become like that."
"I have a wife at home, a child, and an eighty-year-old mother. If I turn into this, how will my wife and child survive?"
The two men incessantly kowtowed.
William Cole sighed, "There's no need to fret. These symptoms usually takes about a week to mutate."