Is Su Huan afraid of death?
No doubt about it, heâs quite afraid.
Otherwise, he wouldnât have thought about creating an iron shell to hide inside it.
But just like those genes that become restless and unstable due to continuous evolution in the apocalypse, madness has become the underlying color imprinted in everyoneâs genes.
Caution and madness, chaos and order are interwoven within each person.
Just like how Su Huan enjoys the tranquil moments amidst the clattering noises of the afternoon kitchen but also craves the thrill of the wind raging past his ears when revving the motorcycle to 120km/h on the rooftop.
He always thought he preserved his humanity well.
Writing diaries, keeping track of time, loving gourmet food, staying optimistic, and talking to himself when thereâs absolutely no one else to converse with...
But when the engine roars, and that uncontrollable itch in his bones rises.
He realized he might have been mad long ago.
Mad on some endless acid rain day, amidst a pile of cold corpses.
Or perhaps on some soft body.
Who knows.
"Bang!"
A Butcher emerged from the side of the street, his tall body wielding a road sign.
Watching the steel pipe swing down, even a slight touch could smash him into a paste.
He didnât even stop the wild thoughts in his mind.
With a sickly smile on his lips.
"Iâm in a hurry."
Feeling the air pressure raised by the road sign, Su Huan twisted the throttle to the max with his right hand, advancing instead of retreating.
The supercharger let out a howl more terrifying than a corpseâs roar, the speed soared once again.
The silver motorcycle shot forward like a bolt of lightning, directly onto the hood of a car, using the incline as a ramp, soaring high.
Avoiding the road sign in the Butcherâs hand just perfectly.
"Boom!"
The road sign slammed onto the car hood, the car instantly crumpled like a biscuit box.
The Butcher looked down with a weird smile.
Huh?
Gone?!
An expression of human-like astonishment appeared on the pudgy face.
Struggling to turn his head, he saw the silver mouse had already run farther along the car roof.
The Butcher roared angrily, dragging the road sign as he chased forward.
If it werenât for the time constraint.
Su Huan really wanted to praise the Butcherâs aesthetic; he always thought road signs were the perfect weapon for a Butcher, whether in length or hit feel.
However, as for the Butcher choosing to chase him, Su Huan didnât hold out hope.
If it were agile types like Night Demons or Bloodhounds, they might catch up, but forget about the Butcher.
The over two-meter-tall body doesnât necessarily move faster than an eighty-year-old lady.
...
Inside the fire truck.
Three men silently sat crouched in the carriage, as the floor was cooler than the seats.
They had been busy for several days, seizing a chance to climb onto this fire truck, intending to rest a bit before driving off.
A dull voice started from the far left.
"Iâm going out to use the bathroom."
"I advise you not to go out, if a zombie bites you, even if you were my own brother, I wouldnât open the door for you."
"Spare the nonsense, why donât you persuade the zombies not to bite me."
Annoyed, the man retorted, but he didnât immediately get off; instead, he cautiously opened the window and peeked outside.
A buzzing sound came from afar, growing closer.
The sound entered the carriage, causing the trio to freeze momentarily before scrambling up and quietly peering out through the window.
They saw a silver motorcycle speeding from a distance.
The three exchanged glances.
Lao Er, "Thatâs a living person!"
Lao San, who was holding in his pee, was somewhat restless, "Nonsense, zombies canât ride motorcycles."
Lao Er, "I thought all the living out there were dead."
The Boss, wiping his face with the hem of his short sleeve, said fiercely, "If heâs just passing by, we wonât bother him, but if heâs here to rob, take him down, letâs go, grab the weapons."
...
Su Huan always chose to drive down the middle of roads.
Because zombies like the Night Demon prefer lurking in dark places.
Too intense sunlight makes the eyes on their bodies uncomfortable.
With his omnidirectional perception at maximum, Su Huan confirmed the direction on top of an SUV, noticing several vivid red fire trucks parked immovably in the middle of the street.
Twisting the throttle, scooting down from the vehicle, he conveniently smashed into a roadside Corpse Pupa.
Before the evolving zombie inside could respond, the rear wheel hit it heavily, producing a squishy sound.
Like squashing a bug.
Weaving through the gaps between cars, stopping and going, eliminating a few careless zombies along the way, Su Huan finally arrived beside the fire truck.
Casually parking the motorcycle on someone elseâs car, Su Huan jumped down and approached the fire truck.
There were three fire trucks trapped on the street, perfectly corresponding to three different scenarios.
A water tanker fire truck, meant for firefighting, typically carrying hoses and a significant amount of purified water.
An aerial ladder fire truck, specialized for high-altitude rescues.
Before the apocalypse, there were videos online of water cannons pushing back people trying to jump off buildings.
Lastly, a rescue fire truck equipped with an enclosed medical cabin, independent power supplies, and a set of dismantling tools.
This trio of vehicles could be said to be an ideal survival fortress for the apocalypse.
And they are definitely more professionally equipped than an armored train.
If it werenât for these Butcher types that could still evolve, Su Huan might have considered forming a convoy.
Just as he was about to approach the driverâs seat, Su Huan paused momentarily, then smoothly resumed his pace.
Muttering to himself, "The windows are all open, seems they left in a hurry."
As soon as he got close, three dark gun barrels emerged from the window, three eerily similar heads squeezed behind the door, staring at him coldly.
The one in the middle asked grimly, "Brother, what do you want?"
Su Huan glanced at the metallic carriage, instantly raised his hands, showing embarrassment and fear on his face, "Just an ordinary survivor, looking to scavenge some supplies, please spare me, brothers."
The guyâs expression softened a lot, "If youâre just passing by, move along, donât have any ideas about this truck."
Su Huan secretly frowned.
Initially, he only wanted the guns on the truck, but now he desired both the truck and the guns.
How could it work if they donât bring him onto the truck?
Just as he was thinking of an excuse, the guy beside him complained, "Thatâs all nonsense, the shopâs right across, if youâre scavenging, why not go there, what are you doing in the middle of the road?"
The other two immediately caught on to this, hurriedly opened the door, and pulled Su Huan onto the truck.
They failed to notice Su Huanâs expression of relief.
In the narrow carriage, Su Huan was still facing three gun barrels, though the one asking questions now was the hot-tempered guy.
The three looked very similar; if they werenât dressed differently, he wouldnât be able to distinguish them.
"Are you a local or from out of town?"
"Came from the south following a train."
They exchanged glances, surprised to gain some intel indeed.
There was actually a train during the apocalypse?!
The gun barrel lowered subconsciously.
The Boss asked urgently, "What train, organized rescue from the government?"