Chapter 63: At Most Forty-Five Points

“Move!”

Zhang Su whispered to Wang Guang.

“Alright, alright!”

Wang Guang held his wooden spear tightly, hesitating like a novice fisherman unsure which fish to spear, and his indecision made others anxious.

Tripping the zombies wasn’t a permanent solution; though their movements were stiff, they would eventually rise again, so they had to be eliminated quickly.

Seeing Wang Guang still couldn’t bring himself to act, Zhang Su silently shook his head—first time, difficulty was understandable, but that was no excuse for hesitation.

“Watch!”

He pulled the crowbar from his belt, aimed at the skull of one zombie, and swung down hard—the heavy crowbar pierced straight through its head.

Aaoo…

The zombie’s skull cracked, its body convulsed once, then collapsed, left twitching as the other two zombies tugged at its limbs.

“Uhn!”

The sight jolted Wang Guang’s nerves—he flushed red, let out a strange grunt, and with both arms straining, drove his spear downward.

Pthss!

Though crude, the wooden spear, powered by Wang Guang’s strength, was still enough to pierce a zombie’s flesh—too bad his aim was off; instead of hitting the head, it went straight through the neck.

“Finish it!”

As he spoke, Zhang Su kicked the rising zombie toward the door, then smashed its skull again with the crowbar, knocking it flat.

Zheng Xinyu seized the moment, stepped over the zombie at the threshold, rushed forward, and brought her baseball bat down hard—she was slowly learning positioning techniques to avoid splashes of blood.

“I told you, Wang, finish it!”

Zhang Su was speechless.

“It’s fine, I’ll handle it!”

Zheng Xinyu’s violent instincts fully activated—her baseball bat swung relentlessly, carving a deep bloody hole right into the wound Zhang Su had made.

Wang Guang lagged behind Zheng Xinyu—he stood helplessly beside the zombie with the spear through its neck, watching it swim like a frog on the ground, his face twitching.

Zhong Xiaoshan came down from upstairs, intending to swing the iron plate to finish the zombie, but Zhang Su stopped her.

“Wang, you must kill this one—if you don’t, you’ll be running alongside the car. I won’t let you on board!”

Zhang Su spoke without room for argument.

Wang Guang clenched his lips, took a deep breath, stomped forward, grabbed the spear, yanked it out with a pthss, then drove it down again with all his might.

Pthss.

The spear plunged through the zombie’s ear—the depth suggested it hadn’t pierced through, but the zombie, like a machine running out of power, slowly stopped moving and fell still.

“Finally—”

“Don’t shout!”

Wang Guang was about to cry out in triumph when Zhang Su shoved him hard—he clamped his mouth shut.

“I did it!” Wang Guang whispered, his face lit with uncontainable euphoria—the joy every first-time zombie-killer experiences, the joy of transformation.

“Not bad. Forty-five points.”

Zhang Su poked at the spear stuck in the zombie’s head and gave his score.

“Forty-five?” Wang Guang chuckled nervously: “Brother Zhang, you’re not seriously giving me a failing grade, are you?”

Zhang Su pointed at Zhong Xiaoshan: “First, she lured the zombies. Second, Zheng Xinyu set the tripwire. You just stood there delaying your kill—forty-five is generous because you’re older. Otherwise, thirty.”

Wang Guang’s face burned—he’d never been outperformed by a girl before. He gave a sheepish smile and said nothing; he had no defense.

He pulled the spear from the zombie’s body—the bloodied tip was already roughened, good for maybe one or two more kills before it broke—durability was extremely low.

Zhang Su handed Wang Guang the crowbar: “You know how to use a hoe, right? The zombie’s head is soil—use this crowbar like a hoe!”

“I do, I do! I used to build plastic greenhouses in the countryside!”

Wang Guang eagerly took the crowbar, tested it in his hands—it was ten thousand times more comfortable than that broken wooden spear!

“Try it later—first, loot the bodies!”

Zhang Su told Wang Guang.

“Loot the bodies?” Wang Guang stared at Zhang Su in surprise.

“Uncle, zombies were people once—they all carried something. Don’t waste it!”

Seeing Wang Guang still dazed, Zheng Xinyu demonstrated herself—she crouched and began rummaging through the zombie’s pockets.

Wang Guang’s expression cleared—he crouched down quickly and started “looting,” muttering under his breath: “No offense, no offense.”

Soon, they finished looting. As time passed, usable items grew scarcer—only phones and cigarettes had value; wallets and keys weren’t even worth picking up.

“Collect every phone—use them to lure zombies. They’re single-use, so get as many as you can!”

Zhang Su stuffed several phones into his bag and told the others: “Xiaoshan risked herself to test for us and got crucial data—based on what we saw, zombies detect living beings at about four to five meters.”

“It might also have something to do with my heavy breathing.”

Zhong Xiaoshan added.

Zhang Su paused, then said: “We should add a safety buffer—seven or eight meters. Without making noise, seven to eight meters is safe. But this is just preliminary data—stay cautious!”

“If zombies rely mostly on smell and hearing, could certain odors make them more sensitive? Like fresh blood?”

Zheng Xinyu asked.

Zhang Su nodded: “Very likely. But we don’t have blood now—we can’t test it. We’ll try later when we get the chance. Adjust and prepare to move out!”

Moments later, the four reached the iron gate leading to the parking lot. Zhang Su pressed his ear against it, listening carefully—absolute silence, only faint scraping sounds, too indistinct to pinpoint where zombies wandered.

“Still here?”

Zhang Su thought.

His plan was for Qin Ya’s group to drive off and lure the zombies away, making their entry into the underground garage much easier.

“Or… have they already left?”

Zhang Su frowned in confusion. Based on timing, he didn’t think Qin Ya’s group would’ve left so soon. More importantly, if they’d driven off, there’d have been noise—this silence didn’t suggest anyone had just departed.

“Stay close to me. Don’t panic!”

After another two or three minutes of silence, Zhang Su decided to wait no longer. He reminded the others once more, then quietly pulled open the iron gate.

Hss.

A faint cold wind, carrying the stench of decay, swept into the stairwell—the group involuntarily shivered.

As people used to say, so many dead in the underground garage meant it was unholy—but now, no one cared.

Compared to legends of ghosts and spirits, real-world zombies were far more deadly…

The underground parking lot had little light—faint glows from stairwell entrances were negligible; the main illumination came from car hazard lights, but their alarms had stopped—likely running out of power soon.

(End of chapter)