"Hey, Old Shen, what day is it today?"
In a hardware store whose roll-up door was tightly closed, a feeble voice rang out from the darkness, a darkness so deep that one couldn't see their hand before their face.
"Ah, the seventh day!"
"F*ck? I knew it. You couldn't find a good place. Having this meal but no next one, I am about to starve to death!"
"F*ck, and this is my fault?"
"Why hasn't the army cleared the zombies from that godd*mn safety zone? Are they waiting for every living person to die first, f*ck!"
Zheng Minghui grumbled, patting his sunken belly. His face was filled with distress.
"Old Zheng, should we risk it? Remember? A few days ago when we came over, we saw a baby milk powder shop."
"You mean, eat some dry milk powder?"
"What else can we do? As long as it has plenty of protein!"
"Alright! Let's go!"
"Hold on, let's check if there are any zombies outside first!"
