Darkness enveloped everything.
A sudden roaring broke the silence of the deserted street.
The Mutant Canines wandering in the middle of the road didn't even have time to scatter before they were hit and sent flying.
Ding Zhixiong sat in the vehicle, his gaze fixed on the right-side rearview mirror until the silhouettes of the zombies and the sounds by his ear gradually faded away, and his tense heart finally began to relax.
"Phew."
He heaved a sigh of relief.
His attention then turned to the weapon in his hand.
It was a black military pistol that, until then, he had only seen on television.
And they had brought back at least a dozen of such pistols today, not to mention many more Shen Zhou-made military rifles with automatic fire, and even a significant number of grenades and similar projectiles.
These items were not just simple weapons that could be replicated.
They were a key.
