Five minutes ago, at the door of the ammunition depot of the Ministry of Armed Forces.
"Da da da da da."
Lead bullets, accompanied by bright gun flames, roared out from the muzzle and drove into the group of black corpses one by one.
The young man held the gun flat, his shoulder bones constantly shaking with the tremor frequency when shooting, and he stood firmly in place.
He had to admit that at this moment of life and death crisis, his mind went blank.
Just shoot, pull the trigger mechanically, and fire forward continuously.
There are black corpses on all sides, so there is no need to consider too many choices.
If you don't kill the black corpse closest to you first, you will be the one who dies...
The ammunition reserves in the double magazine were rapidly decreasing, the barrel was getting hot, and the acrid smell of gunpowder smoke gradually came out.
The black corpse was accidentally hit by a bullet in the eye socket and died on the spot. The black corpse was hit by several bullets through the spine and rolled to the ground. The black corpse on the side had its cervical vertebra broken and temporarily lost its threat. …
However, more black corpses were coming forward one after another.
Those piles of clutter that act as cover and obstacles don't work at all!
"Wow."
Several tables and chairs that were least taken care of when they were stacked fell over.
He overestimated the sturdiness of the obstacles he had laid out, and even underestimated the strength of these zombie monsters.
At the end of the day, it’s just a lack of experience.
But this cannot be called a reason.
Black corpses that transform into corpses because they are bitten by black corpses are called "acquired zombies."
Many of them are what they are now simply because of "lack of experience."
The world after the disaster is completely new to everyone alive, and is full of dangers.
The zombies are the product of the evolution of the crystal core, and they should not be speculated based on the common sense before the catastrophe.
"Da da da."
"Ding ding ding ding."
The bullet casings fell into a layer under my feet, making a metallic crunching sound as they collided with each other. Aping's chest was sore from the shock, and his shoulder blades were tortured by the gun butt, and his shooting accuracy further declined.
In the current continuous firing state of the rifle, he can't kill three or two black corpses even if he fires ten shots!
If it is replaced by burst shooting, the accuracy is indeed easy to control, but the amount of damage will be significantly reduced.
After all, he was just an amateur who was led by his father to practice shooting a few times.
Today's shooting volume has far exceeded all the targets he has ever hit.
The automatic rifle that had run out of ammunition was thrown forward, knocking a rather thin black corpse staggering.
Aping rolled back and hid behind a new layer of bunker.
Two Paletta mini-submachine guns were put into his hands in a blink of an eye, more bullets spurted out of the barrels, and the forward momentum of the zombies was also stagnated.
But this result is only temporary. After holding the gun in both hands, Aping had no accuracy at all.
That is to say, low-level black corpses with no intelligence will be crowded together and let him slaughter them. No matter where the bullet hits, it will not be considered a "miss".
At the same time, his body could no longer support it.
Both shoulders were swollen from the continuous high-frequency vibration, and the pain could be felt deep in the bone marrow. Sooner or later, Ah Ping's hands will be unable to hold these two micro guns!
He endured the discomfort and maintained the steel torrent composed of bullets, and the advance of the corpses was barely suppressed.
But he was very close to the group of corpses, so close that he could almost see the bloody flesh hanging from the corner of the mouth of a certain black corpse.
Which unlucky guy was torn to pieces and eaten?
To this black corpse, is that a stranger or his friend? Or... a relative?
He suddenly thought - everyone around him once called him "Aping", but from now on... it seems that no one will call him that again.
"Ah! Go to hell!"
Aping stared with bloodshot eyes, raised both guns and fired at the same time. Dozens of bullets roared out, instantly blasting the black corpse into a sieve.
But it comes at a cost.
Because of his willfulness, the black corpses in other directions were closer to him.
And behind him is the warehouse door - this is the last line of defense he has arranged in advance, and he has no way out.
But having said that, even if he didn't act willfully this time, it was still doomed.
Because every time he stopped firing to replace the magazine, the corpses would take advantage of this short gap to get closer to him...
"Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta...ta..."
The magazine was empty again. Aping pulled out the empty magazine as quickly as possible, then stretched his hand to the table on the side. Unexpectedly, when he raised his hand, he found an empty magazine.
Running out of ammunition...
Even though he found so many matching guns in advance and spent a long time in the ammunition depot filling up a mountain of magazines, he never thought... that the sound of gunshots would attract a wave of black corpses.
This is not yet a densely populated emerging urban area!
Matching the number of black corpses with the number of bullets is simply a fool's plan that leaves no margin.
A bullet can kill a person, and can severely injure a person and render him incapacitated. But this kind of experience would not work at all if applied to the corpse monsters after the disaster.
If Lang Hua were here, he would definitely know this. But A Ping is not Lang Hua, nor does he have Lang Hua's resume and experience in dealing with the corpse tide in his previous life.
Does he regret it? Not sure. There was only confusion in his mind.
Go back to the ammunition depot and reload... No, once the zombies block the door, you can no longer escape.
No, run away? Why is he running away? How dare he escape!
If he didn't kill all these monsters and murderers in front of him, he might as well die immediately!
There are two grenades on the table. They were originally used by him to blow up a breach and escape when he was surrounded by a small number of black corpses.
But at that time, I never imagined the size of the corpse group today...
Two grenades are just a drop in the bucket... It's strange to be able to blast a gap among hundreds of black corpses.
The hideous black corpse seemed to know that it was about to catch fresh prey. The muddy saliva in his mouth rushed out and dripped to the ground.
The "ho-ho" sound that seems to have remained unchanged for thousands of years still sounds unclear, but it is clearly much louder.
An instinctive reflex thirsting for evolutionary energy, a strange combination of black fog spore colonies and walking dead hosts...
Aping smiled miserably: "Grandpa, father, am I going to follow your footsteps?"
When death finally comes, death is no longer a terrible thing.
At this time, Aping saw the knife, a knife pinned to his waist.
This set of Tang knives originally belonged to my grandfather, and was given to him by the old man at his coming-of-age ceremony earlier this year.
"Just...just give it another try."
Aping took a deep breath and put his hands on his waist.
"Ding."
The long sword was unsheathed, and he seemed to have strength again. Just the blade of the blade whirled, and it cut off the head of a black corpse that came to the side.
Unfortunately, this small victory quickly disappeared like ripples on a pond.
One black corpse was chopped over, but more black corpses rushed to fill the gap.
The victims fighting for food during the famine... this is probably the scene.
However, he is not willing to be easy food for his opponent, he is not willing to be a prey for others, let alone a stepping stone on the opponent's smooth path of evolution!
My father disobeyed his grandfather and abandoned his military career to join the army. He eventually injured his leg in a border friction. In the end, my father returned to Shashi and was honorably discharged from the army, taking up a casual position as Minister of the Armed Forces, but he lost the physical condition to continue practicing martial arts.
But he is different. The daily compulsory education does not delay the high hopes that his grandfather has for him. After laying a solid foundation, Aping started practicing swordsmanship with his grandfather at the age of 12.
Countless evenings with colorful clouds floating in the sky, countless weekends when he was forced to stay away from his peers, from wooden sticks to bamboo knives to iron knives, it took years and months of accumulation to successfully survive that terrifying midnight.
In the sea of blood and corpses on "Advent Day", escaping requires luck, and even more strength.
For this reason, he had thought more than once whether his father would have survived the night of the disaster if he had continued practicing martial arts.
Instead of being lame and unable to dodge, he was bitten by the transformed grandfather, and eventually became an unrecognizable walking corpse.
Martial arts is not just the moves and routines that ordinary people think.
Whether it is fighting with fists and feet or using swords and weapons, from the most realistic perspective, thousands of times of training are enough to make practitioners more flexible in their control of their own limbs.
Limbs, center of gravity, dash, dodge, more than enough attack and defense...
Knowledge makes people full of energy, but martial arts makes people truly familiar with every corner of the physical self.
Gradually, the mind will gradually catch up with the body movements, rather than being an awkward contradiction between the two.
Finally, precise control of one's own limbs is achieved.
Every movement and every stillness is done according to one's heart, that's all.
A Ping couldn't help but think——
If his father had not given up practicing martial arts back then, he would have definitely been able to escape the moment before the black corpse's teeth clenched, just like he had avoided several bites from his corpse-turned-father.
If my father could let go of his so-called rebellion and self-esteem, he could practice swordsmanship with his grandfather again after changing his career. Haiping believed that he could react.
Even if he is shocked, hesitant, and confused, even if the monster in front of him was once a relative...
But just like what my grandfather taught me - those who hold swords should show no mercy.
But...there is never an if.
Section 2
The Tang Heng Dao in A Ping's hand has been in Grandpa's hands for forty years. It was made by a friend that my grandfather commissioned and made based on the ancient method of "filling steel". It is even more sophisticated than the famous Su Tiedao.
Aping slid backwards to avoid the scratch from the black corpse in front of him, but unexpectedly his heel hit the warehouse door.
Not only was there no way to retreat, but now he had no room to move around, which was a more dangerous situation than being surrounded.
Ah Ping gritted his teeth and swung his right arm horizontally with a Tang knife with a narrow blade and thick spine, and slashed it on the black corpse's neck.
The sharp blade was strong under the influence of inertia, and it cut off the head of this black corpse!
But also because of inertia, the headless black corpse fell towards him.
In this case, he knew that he must not be suppressed by the corpse!
In desperation, Aping had no choice but to raise his blade to block the speed-type black corpse coming from the left, while taking a step forward.
With a powerful and heavy knee, the headless black corpse turned around and leaned back.
When it landed, the tip of the double-edged knife stabbed into the ground, piercing the black corpse's head with its mouth still opening and closing.
He didn't want to be bitten on the ankle by this guy in the subsequent battle and suffer a secret loss.
…
A Ping rushed forward like this, breaking into the depths of the corpse group with great boldness.
Although there was room to move left and right at this time, it became surrounded by enemies on all sides, and the situation could not be said to have improved.
The black corpses were originally rushing towards the place where he was standing before, but now they all bumped into the iron door of the warehouse.
But there were a few speedy, thin black corpses who reacted very quickly, turned around and pounced on them again.
"Qiang."
Another horizontal knife was unsheathed from behind.
Although the horizontal sword is a two-handed sword with a medium-long handle, the blade is less than one meter long and can be controlled by Haiping with one hand.
This puts a great test on the swordsman's basic skills and physical fitness.
The steel knife weighs more than several kilograms, and wielding it for long periods of time is different from daily practice. This puts a huge load on his wrists and requires the dexterity to do two things.
Even though Aping had practiced swordplay since he was a child, he could not maintain this state for too long.
But this is the best way to solve the current predicament. As for what happens next... he can't think that far ahead.
The narrow blade about eighty centimeters long was swung into the wind in front of Aping, isolating several speed-type black corpses from the sword curtain.
"There is a gap!"
Seeing that the culling offensive of the corpses was disrupted by him, there was a very small gap for black corpses behind Aping.
If you want to escape, here and now is your best chance!
A Ping "blocked" the blade in front of him and pushed it hard. With the force of the black corpse hitting the blade, it squeezed into the gap at the side and rear.
He didn't just want to die. As long as there was a glimmer of hope, he was unwilling to bury his life here.
Even if we die together, we don’t want to!
Even if we die together, we must die together with all the zombie monsters, and die together with this damn apocalypse!
Only in this way can the mission of revenge be completed!
A Ping stepped back, but the cost of his strength was also obvious - the spine of the knife hit a hard spot on his chest, causing him to almost choke.
In the process of breaking through the blockade, the thick coat that had been put on in advance was scratched by the black corpse until the cotton wool turned out, and the wrists were also aching from the previous twisting.
Aping knew that he could not maintain this state of holding a knife with both hands for a long time.
Maybe two more minutes, or maybe less...
The longer the blade, the heavier it becomes. Although it is full of lethality, it is a heavier burden and consumption for myself who is gradually depleted of physical strength.
At this moment, Aping also had a barrier knife tied to each of his two calves. The wide-blade blade was only 20 centimeters, allowing him to maintain a longer fighting time.
But on the contrary, every inch short is also every inch dangerous.
When all means are exhausted, will the tattered coat covering his body still be able to support his escape?
Is his fate to be gradually transformed into a corpse after being scratched by the black zombies, or to be eaten up by the black zombies?
He doesn't want to give up yet.
But... I don’t know if it’s God’s will.
The direction he wanted to break through was once again filled with a large number of black corpses.
And because he had to avoid the heavy punches of several powerful black zombies, he gradually returned to a position close to the warehouse...
