Having set his objectives, Hua Zhen returned to his neighborhood.
He descended into the underground parking garage and effortlessly located the man's vehicle.
It wasn't difficult to find, as many had thought to flee by car when the disaster struck, leaving the garage quite vacant.
The man's car was an old-fashioned van. Hua Zhen reminisced about his school days when he had little pocket money, just enough for the bus fare given by his parents.
Instead of taking the bus, Hua Zhen would spend half on spicy strips and save the rest for the van ride home, which cost just that.
But those days were long gone.
There probably wouldn't be schoolchildren or spicy strips in the future.
If he wished to relive his childhood, he'd need to procure some spicy strips.
The convenience store's second floor had a limited supply of daily necessities and snacks, barely enough to last a short while.
Hua Zhen's true aim was—
A supermarket sweep!
Indeed, some supermarkets had likely been raided already.
But mostly, it was food that was taken.
Food wasn't urgent for Hua Zhen; in this world overrun with zombies, armed with a cleaver, he could go anywhere he pleased. Why worry about sustenance?
Hua Zhen needed more than just food and medicine; he required various tools.
Though electricity and communication were still available, what about later? At the very least, water and power must be ensured.
Before the apocalypse, he lived a life of drudgery, like an overworked beast of burden.
After the apocalypse, shouldn't he strive for a semblance of humanity?
Minuo City's commercial district boasted eight large chain supermarkets, numerous pharmacies, and convenience stores at every turn.
So, after loading the food from his backpack into the van, Hua Zhen set off towards the commercial area.
The dense buildings sliced through the sunlight, and the high-rise windows reflected bright beams. Hua Zhen strolled along the shaded road as if on a casual walk.
The journey was somewhat long, requiring about an hour on foot.
But Hua Zhen didn't drive.
He wasn't concerned about attacks from the infected.
Walking also allowed him to better assess the current situation.
Including the number of zombies on each street and road, and the presence of any survivors.
Driving, though quick and convenient, would draw attention to the engine's roar and leave insufficient time to recognize the surroundings.
Hua Zhen checked the time.
It was precisely half past ten in the morning.
The roads, usually congested, were still choked with vehicles, forming a long queue, and many damaged cars were haphazardly abandoned in the middle of the road.
Even more explosive was the sight of a car embedded five or six meters up in an iron billboard.
The car was totaled, its shattered door smeared with blood. Looking down, one could see half a body trapped in the door, slowly waving its hands, emitting a silent roar.
Hua Zhen marveled at how this was achieved, admiring the driver's exceptional skill.
This was the epitome of an extreme "flying car."
Beyond the vehicles, dozens of zombies aimlessly wandered the streets, some burrowing into cars for a feast.
Perhaps it was because he, too, was a zombie.
Hua Zhen felt a pang of hunger.
At the convenience store, Hua Zhen partook sparingly, reserving space in his stomach for finer fare to come.
Before long, he reached the commercial district.
The streets lay in disarray, yet in stark contrast to the usual bustling throngs, only a few scattered zombies roamed.
As Hua Zhen passed by, their bloodshot eyes swept over him indifferently, unable to discern his visage beneath the hood, and refrained from attacking.
"It appears… zombies do not identify their own by appearance," Hua Zhen concluded with certainty.
He realized that even without seeing faces, he could acutely sense whether those around him were zombies.
Guided by memory, Hua Zhen arrived at a pharmacy.
The pharmacy was closed, but not securely.
He noticed a gap under the shutter door, which was unlocked.
After listening closely, he heard unusual noises inside, like someone knocking on a door, accompanied by the sound of nails scraping wood.
There seemed to be some situation within…
Should he seek another pharmacy?
After pondering, Hua Zhen adjusted his hood, drew his cleaver, and decided to assess the situation.
He slowly raised the shutter door, startling the outside zombies, who turned to look but took no further action.
As the shutter ascended, the glow of incandescent light emerged.
Looking toward the noise, Hua Zhen saw two female pharmacists in white coats scratching at a door in the depths of the pharmacy.
No sound came from the door, so they merely repeated their mechanical actions, lacking the intense aggression of his previous landlady.
Hua Zhen's gaze returned to the shelves, where, surprisingly, a considerable amount of medication remained, untouched by looting, save for some opened medicines like antibiotics scattered on the floor near the counter.
While food is a priority for most, the abundance of leftover medicine was unexpected to Hua Zhen.
Medicines are vital in the apocalypse.
His attention shifted to the two zombified pharmacists.
Their white coats were clean, unstained by blood.
One had a bite wound on her left foot, the other on her leg.
It seemed they had been bitten during the outbreak and had hastily sought refuge in the pharmacy.
Due to the old-style shutter door, which couldn't be locked from the inside, it had partially risen over time.
Although they had escaped being devoured, they could not avoid infection. The scattered antibiotics, which required a prescription, were used in desperation.
Alas, it was in vain.
However, their act of closing the door provided Hua Zhen with an unexpected convenience.
At least the place had not been ransacked.
Hua Zhen grabbed a plastic bag from the checkout counter and became a veritable master of inventory clearance, swiftly packing the medicines, and sweeping them into the bag with a flourish.
Unable to carry all the medicines and with no room in his backpack, Hua Zhen, as planned, decided to hide them.
He stashed the supplies in an alley near the commercial street.
Still feeling insecure about the safety of his cache, Hua Zhen wondered what to do if someone stumbled upon it.
Thus, he returned to the street and casually grasped the hands of a few young female zombies.
"Elbow, follow me into the alley."