Chapter 2

In this world, the walking dead are the main theme.

As the two people walked to the center of the traffic, Mori suddenly stopped and signaled for Kirk to crouch down.

Then, Kirk hid under an SUV.

Through the wheels, he vaguely saw a pair of feet moving in front of him.

Yes, the feet were scraping along the ground with a "rustling" sound, as if the owner had congenital polio and bowlegs, making the legs move mechanically forward but unable to bend flexibly.

"Walker!" Kirk's heart tightened. He was no stranger to this thing from American TV shows, but seeing it in real life for the first time, he couldn't help but feel a bit of fear.

He had binge-watched "The Walking Dead" and was familiar with the plot. The United States and the world were hit by a large-scale, unexplained biochemical virus, resulting in more than half of the world's population dying. Worse still, many of the dead rose again. The protagonist, Rick, was a police officer in a suburban county near Atlanta. He was injured while arresting a criminal and woke up in a hospital to find himself in a hellish world. He escaped, fought his way through, and after much hardship, found his wife and son along with a group of companions. They continued to flee, seeking a safe haven. People kept dying and new people kept joining. Everyone was struggling to survive. It was a difficult and complex story, full of ups and downs, and very engaging.

As for the white man beside Kirk, he always appeared as a troublemaker in the show. He had been a soldier and fought in wars but was a racist and a selfish person. In the first season, he was locked on the rooftop by the protagonist due to his discrimination against the black man T-Dog, surrounded by walkers, and on the brink of death. Mori was also a tough guy, tough on others and even tougher on himself. To survive, he sawed off his right hand and escaped with gritted teeth.

Kirk always felt he didn't get along with such people. He disliked him in the TV show and now felt even more hatred and fear. However, he thought carefully, and since Ai Rina had arranged for Mori to save him, the next plot would naturally be to follow Mori. Fortunately, although Mori had a bad temper, his combat skills were strong, which was why he had survived so long. Kirk needed to find an opportunity to learn some skills from Mori; otherwise, he wouldn't have the ability to protect himself and would die quickly.

While Kirk was lost in thought, he suddenly saw the rotting, black feet of the walker moving toward his location, breaking out in a cold sweat. Looking around, he couldn't find Mori's shadow.

"Hey, idiot, under the car," a low voice said.

Kirk focused and saw that Mori had already crawled under the SUV, glaring at him with anger. If not for the fear of alerting the walkers, he would have cursed loudly.

Kirk felt ashamed and quickly crawled in.

Mori grabbed his collar: "Kid, let's get one thing straight. If you get distracted again, the walkers here will get to taste new Asian-flavored food, like banana pie, yellow-skinned, got it? And I, if not for the fear of your blood attracting more of them, wouldn't have warned you. Got it?"

Kirk didn't bother to argue with the racist comment and quickly nodded in agreement.

The owner of the feet was walking back and forth by the SUV. Soon, more rotting, swollen feet appeared from a distance.

A low moan sounded in his ears as a large group of walkers passed by.

For some reason, Kirk thought of the "Trail of Tears," where Native Americans were driven by white colonizers' guns, walking and dying.

Only the sound of shoe soles scraping the ground, like a swarm of deadly locusts, left no life behind.

Mori's expression was as usual, just a bit gloomy. He spat and took off the protective cover of the knife on his right hand, carefully observing the surroundings.

Kirk noticed Mori's eyes, which were constantly looking at the roof of another large bus, clearly calculating the escape route if discovered.

This was the difference between a rookie and a veteran. He was lamenting the helplessness of life, while Mori was calmly thinking about how to survive.

No, this wouldn't do. He needed to learn.

Mori clearly noticed Kirk looking around and sneered, lowering his voice: "Kid, what are you looking at?"

"Escape route, the roof, which way to jump."

"You'll die a thousand times, and they'll eat you down to the bones."

"Then what are you looking at?"

"Crows, kid, crows!"

"What's so special about crows?"

"Crows only eat dead bodies. Walkers even attack crows. Where there are walkers, there are no smart birds, so..."

"Crows circling means there won't be many walkers! We should escape that way!" Kirk suddenly understood.

"Right, and the back window of that large bus has the last issue of 'Playboy.' I wonder what the big-buttocked girl on the cover would look like as a walker."

Kirk was speechless. Mori's imagination was too powerful, and his taste was too heavy, even fantasizing about walkers.

The two waited for the walker army to pass.

As the walker army passed, Kirk gradually relaxed. In another three to five minutes, these stinky guys would be gone.

But, there's always a "but."

A man suddenly rushed out from a nearby car, shouting "Damn, get away!" and such.

"Shit!" Mori fiercely stabbed the ground with the sharp blade in his right hand.

Kirk also became tense. Clearly, a variable had appeared, possibly arranged by the space.

Sure enough, the man stumbled toward them, with walkers swarming behind him.

Suddenly, a regular corpse lying by the car suddenly moved, opening its mouth wide and biting the man's calf as he ran past.

The man screamed in agony, kicking and thrashing to shake off the walker's bite.

Even Kirk, the super rookie, knew the man was finished.

The man fell to the ground, dust flying. He screamed and struggled in his final moments.

Kirk exhaled, the man was at least twenty meters away, and the walkers were busy eating him, so they could slip away. Although he soon felt ashamed of his thoughts.

After all, he was a human, one of his own kind, while those things attacking him could only be described as "them." They were no longer human.

But now, he was just an ordinary person and couldn't help, so he could only let the man be killed by the walkers.

However, the man, at the brink of death, suddenly burst with energy!

He stomped on the head of the walker that bit his calf, gritted his teeth, and got up, continuing to run toward them!

The walkers naturally followed.

The man had good eyesight and immediately locked eyes with Kirk, who was hiding under the car, watching coldly.

Kirk's heart tightened. The man was already doomed to die, or rather, to exist in another form. Now his choice was...

The man hesitated, then shouted, "Help! Help!"

"Damn!" Kirk roared. This man, who was already doomed to die, was trying to drag them down with him, a truly despicable act!

The walkers had already seen Kirk and Mori, and they couldn't hide anymore.

Kirk quickly crawled out from under the car and ran toward the place where the crows were gathering.

Then, he heard a gunshot. Looking back, he saw Mori, expressionless, putting away a "Bushmaster Armpistol" and running toward him. Behind Mori, the man, limping from a gunshot wound, was quickly caught and torn apart by the walkers. The man's throat was ripped open, and he could no longer scream, only a faint "hehe" sound could be heard, perhaps calling, perhaps laughing. In the end, two more companions joined him on the road to the underworld.

This didn't matter now. What mattered was that the walkers had discovered them.

Mori's gunshot gave the walkers a new feast, diverting a large part of their attention. But there were still many walkers who couldn't get in, so they wobbled and pursued the two!

Kirk ran after Mori. Based on his years of watching zombie shows and playing games, the general rule was that if you were surrounded by walkers, even if you had god-like powers, a sword, a knife, and a rocket launcher, you couldn't escape. He didn't want to die here.

However, the most tragic thing about Kirk was that he was a shut-in, strong in theory but lacking in physical training.

Despite the walkers' slow speed, Kirk wasn't much faster. After a 50% comprehensive enhancement in the training ground, Kirk's agility reached a historical peak of 4 points! (Kirk shouted: "I at least trained for a month of long-distance running!") The walkers, estimated, were between 3 and 4 points. This was truly a closely matched kite-flying competition. (Kirk shouted: "Being kite-flying by zombies is my lifelong shame!")

In theory, Kirk should have had a good chance of winning this race.

But everyone knows that running from walkers is a marathon of endurance. Walkers don't have stamina; they can keep running until their joints wear out. Kirk, a shut-in, rarely exercised, and with the tension, he soon felt out of breath. In the space, the bodies of the contractors were digitized and could maintain a steady pace for a long time without getting tired. But Kirk, the big rookie, couldn't adapt to his body, leading to premature fatigue.

Mori, running ahead, turned around. Kirk's heart tightened, genuinely fearing that this fierce man would repeat the earlier act of shooting the man, leaving him to attract the walkers while he escaped.

Mori grinned and raised the Bushmaster, the metal barrel pointing at the panting Kirk.

"Can't be, just entering the space, and being betrayed by the only character I've seen, being eaten alive by walkers? Is there such a tragic protagonist?" Kirk thought.

"Bang!" A deafening gunshot.

Kirk closed his eyes, a walker that had just pounced on him suddenly stopped, its head exploding like a watermelon, black brain fragments, brown blood, and white brain matter splattering all over Kirk's face. Kirk vomited.

But he knew the situation was life or death, so he gritted his teeth and continued running.

Mori continued shooting, seven shots, seven headshots, very accurate.

Then he continued running.

But the loud gunshots had alarmed all the walkers, who were now closing in from all sides, trapping the two in a tight circle.

Kirk looked in despair as the only gap in front of him was gradually filled by the walkers, though not many, once caught or bitten, there would be no escape.

"Stop, catch!" Mori threw the Bushmaster to Kirk. Kirk, alert, tried to catch it but failed, quickly picking it up from the ground.

"You idiot! I'm going to try to start this car. This will decide whether we spend the night in sleeping bags or in the stomachs of these things! You cover me, understand?" Mori shouted, opening the door of a red Maserati, leaning in, and starting to hot-wire the car.

"How do you open the safety?" Kirk was ashamed, a 21st-century youth, and he didn't even know this.

"It's already open, ass! Don't aim at me! Aim at the walkers! Aim low, this gun has a strong recoil, the barrel will rise. Shoot!"

Kirk, for the first time in his life, fired a gun. The Bushmaster, a large submachine pistol, was heavy. He struggled to hold it with both hands, recalling the shooting techniques from "Modern Warfare 6," and aimed at the nearest walker's head, gritting his teeth and firing the first bullet!

The walkers seemed stunned by the loud gunshot and stopped.

Then, nothing happened. The bullet shattered a car window, and the alarm system started beeping.

"Great job!" Mori laughed. "No doubt, we'll both die because of you."

"Shut up!" With the Bushmaster in hand, Kirk felt more confident. The first shot's recoil almost broke his wrist. He decided to stop aiming and fired at the nearest walker.

This time, his palm split open, blood flowed, and his wrist swelled, causing him to grimace in pain without even checking the result.

But he clearly heard the cold, mechanical voice of the space:

"Contractor 4444 has killed one ordinary walker. Due to the weapon being borrowed from a character, the reward is adjusted to 1 survival point. First kill announcement, for future battles, check the battle log for details."

"The title 'Walker Hunter' is activated, current progress 1/100. For more details, query the space. To query, silently think of the question, and if you have the permission, you will receive an answer."

Kirk, ignoring the pain, aimed the gun at another walker and fired.

He knew his powerful and comprehensive attributes were exceptional, so he no longer relied on the low headshot rate. Being flashy could only lead to death. With a powerful gun like the Bushmaster, hitting the target was the key. A hit on an ordinary walker was a sure kill.

So, he aimed at the walker's body, but this time, by chance, hit the walker's head, causing it to explode, with brain matter splattering everywhere.

Kirk, ignoring the pain, repeated the process, firing again.

This time, another side window of a car was shattered. But Kirk believed that neither the car owner nor the insurance company would care, and no one would sue him.

Fifty-eight seconds later, Kirk had used up all 30 bullets in the gun. His hands were covered in blood, numb, but he had killed 17 walkers, earning 17 survival points, and a white key that automatically fell into his imprint space.

But the walkers kept surrounding them, layer upon layer, a black mass. Kirk, with no training, had a hit rate over 50%, not because he had a protagonist template, played many games, or had exceptional shooting skills, but because there were too many walkers