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    The pouring rain fell on the forest leaves, and in the dense water vapor, two blurry black figures flashed past quickly. Together they were carrying a snakeskin bag made of rough material, with something bulging inside.

    The thick earthy smell in the air was mixed with blood and was driven into the puddles. A rain boot suddenly stepped on it, splashing bits of gray-brown mud and grass roots, and then another pair of colorful high boots stepped on it.  Miscellaneous footprints on the ground.

    The snakeskin bag slung behind his back stirred, as if he was about to wake up. The two people looked at each other and increased their pace again.

    Less than five minutes later, they arrived at the gate of the factory mentioned earlier. Several newspapers were crookedly pasted on the three-meter-high iron door, and a simple reminder word was scrawled on it with a marker - there are zombies and humans inside.  prohibit.

    The handwriting was blurred by the rain, and the outer paint had been damaged and peeled off, revealing the rusty lock underneath.

    The person walking in front tore off all the paper and threw it into the puddle next to him. He gestured with caution to the man behind him who was dragging a snakeskin bag and wearing rain boots.

    The factory has two floors. Nearly half a hundred zombies are trapped in the inner corner of the first floor by three transport trucks and rolling trucks. There are three stairs leading to the second floor. One is welded with iron rods, and the other is made of wooden boards.  Nailed, the last one is at the back door, which is the safe passage for administrative employees.

    The man in rain boots took out a small ax from behind. The two people entered through the back door and climbed up to the second floor carrying the bags without saying a word. One person held a small flashlight and continued to use the ax to chop the boards, while the other person came in through the window.  The light bent down and unzipped the snakeskin bag.

    A bloody arm stretched out from it. The man wearing a poncho pulled the opening to the bottom without changing his eyes, revealing the pale and weak cheek of a man inside who had lost too much blood. If it weren't for the messy clothes, his chest would still be heaving.  , just because of its unresponsive appearance, people can¡¯t help but suspect that this is just a corpse.

    He grabbed the man¡¯s black hair, which was stained with blood clots, and roughly pulled the man out of his pocket and threw him to the concrete floor.

    "hurry up."

    The man in rain boots neatly cut off all the wooden boards, lit a bunch of firecrackers on the ground, and then walked out neatly. Before locking the door, he took one last look at the man inside.

    Under the dim light source, the man's lips were slightly open and he was breathing hard. His eyebrows were frowned, and a shadow was cast under his eyelashes. He was lying in the dusty corridor, with injuries all over his body. Even in such an embarrassing situation, he could not help but  He doesn't admit that he has a good appearance to seduce people.

    The hoarse gasps from the zombies gradually came closer, and the unique rotting smell penetrated the tip of the nose. The rain curtain in the sky was isolated by the muffled sound of the iron door. A new lock was fastened on the back door, and two men  Sneering, he put on his hood and disappeared as quickly as he came.  (Remember the website address: www.hlnovel.com
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