Glory Avenue Commercial Street.
Leon sat in a blue-gray Ford Mondeo, lighting himself a cigar.
After coming to this world, he had nearly become addicted to cigars. Their rich, mellow flavor was intoxicating, and even a light puff brought physical and mental pleasure—a transcendent kind of exhilaration.
Before Leon could set off, Daryl came over again and said softly:
"Boss, why don't you let me do this?"
"If Merle finds out I let you take on something this dangerous, he'll laugh at me for an entire month."
Leon focused on Daryl's face and studied him for a while. The young man was about the same age as him, but beneath his wooden, fierce expression was a sincere heart. Leon patted Daryl on the shoulder and said earnestly:
"Next time, Daryl. You're not ready yet. Once you've truly adapted to this world, I'll rely on you more."
Daryl was silent for several seconds. He looked into Leon's eyes, nodded, and said:
"I'll remember that, Boss. Please let me go next time."
The blue-gray Ford drove into the commercial street under everyone's watchful eyes.
Driving along Glory Avenue, Leon observed his surroundings while carefully maneuvering around the obstacles on the road.
The shops here had all been decorated in a refined, minimalist style. Transparent glass doors and windows, brightly colored walls and floors, and vivid spray-painted signs made the place very appealing to modern young people.
Cafés, bubble tea shops, KFC, department stores, Apple Stores—the shops came in all kinds, with everything one could want.
Many young Zombies in suits and brightly colored clothing wandered across the road.
Before the disaster, this must have been a thriving commercial center beloved by young people.
There must be plenty of good stuff here, Leon thought. Before long, he had driven the car to Number 108.
After reaching the designated location, he quickly turned the car around, crashing into two Zombies trying to surround him.
With his right hand, he turned the car's music player up to maximum volume and switched it to external playback.
He had chosen this car in advance because it had an external music function, much like the speakers used by middle-aged women for square dancing.
A classic rock song by The Rolling Stones, "Paint It, Black," suddenly exploded through the street.
I see a red door and I want it painted black
I see a red door, and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
The thunderous music immediately awakened every Zombie nearby. They raised their ugly, ferocious, rotting faces and swayed toward the blue-gray Ford.
Leon did not accelerate. He kept the car gliding in low gear, stopping and surging at intervals as he lured the Zombies onward behind him.
Every so often, he honked the horn. Before long, a dense mass of Zombies had formed behind the blue-gray Ford.
Leon led them past the Interstate Highway intersection, past the gas station, past Walmart Department Store, and past Number 168 on Glory Avenue.
After more than ten minutes, the Ford had traveled three or four kilometers. Fifty meters behind it, a massive horde of nearly a thousand Zombies had formed. They clawed and roared wildly, packed shoulder to shoulder and almost filling the entire street.
While driving, Leon observed his surroundings and adjusted the car's direction. He took a stone he had prepared in advance from the passenger seat and gently placed it on the accelerator.
He himself opened the door, rolled out, and ran away from the car.
The driverless vehicle continued moving slowly, dragging the horde along. No one knew where it would eventually stop.
This was a trick he had learned from Old Merle in the television series.
He did not dare linger. The instant he got out of the car, he rushed into a house with its front door wide open.
The moment he entered, two roars came from the living room. Two Zombies in house clothes had spotted him.
Without a second thought, Leon drew his Silenced Pistol from his waist.
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
While moving, he emptied four or five bullets into the Zombies' heads, blasting them to the ground.
Leon quickly reached the back half of the house, only to discover in dismay that it had no back door. He had no way to leave through one.
Fortunately, the house had sliding windows made of large panes of glass. With no time to think, Leon unlocked the window, bent down, and climbed outside.
At last, he had completely left the Zombies' line of sight.
Leon quietly let out half a sigh of relief. He skirted the route the horde might take and headed toward Glory Avenue from another street.
It was a distance of three or four kilometers, and he had to travel on foot while avoiding the Zombies' harassment and steering clear of the large groups.
Hiding, fighting, and killing, Leon spent nearly an hour before returning to the vicinity of Number 168 on Glory Avenue.
Leon had personally experienced how dangerous it was for an ordinary person to survive in this world.
After traveling so far, even he—a cheat with unique abilities and physical fitness approaching the peak of an ordinary human—felt exhausted. His clothes were covered in dirty blood and scraps of flesh.
He found that the road had been completely blocked by a red heavy truck. More than a dozen Zombies surrounded the truck's metal exterior, clawing and pounding at it wildly without causing the slightest damage.
It seemed Glenn and the others had completed their task.
After thinking it over, Leon decided it was safer not to charge the horde head-on again. Without tools, climbing over a truck more than four meters tall would also be difficult.
After running for more than another hour, he finally returned from the Interstate Highway intersection to Rongguang Avenue Commercial Street.
When he entered the street, Daryl and the others were still fighting.
Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog were all wearing police riot gear for protection. Each held a half-meter-long machete, forming a simple defensive formation. Working together, they advanced and retreated in turns as they battled seven or eight Zombies.
Dozens of Zombie corpses were scattered across the commercial street, clearly the fruits of their labor.
When he silently approached their position, Leon launched an attack from the side. He drew his Silenced Pistol and emptied a magazine, helping them finish the battle.
When the fight ended, Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog all let out a sigh of relief.
Glenn was more outgoing by nature. He shook his arm, which had gone numb from exertion, then gazed brightly at Leon, whose entire body was covered in dirty blood, with admiration and said:
"That was incredible, Boss. You used a single car to lure away hundreds of Zombies just like that."
"Maybe we could use this method to lure all the Zombies out of the city."
Leon took several cigars from the pouch at his lower back and tossed them to the others. After lighting one for himself, he shook his head calmly and said:
"It's not that simple, Glenn."
"Zombies are attracted by sound. They easily form a herd and can be lured away by noise."
"But likewise, as long as we make some sufficiently loud sounds, they'll gradually be drawn back."
"Atlanta's local population is over five hundred thousand. Adding the residents of the surrounding areas and the city's floating population, the number of Zombies in the city center is estimated to be over a million."
"If we can't kill those Zombies and choose to lure them away instead, letting them linger around us..."
"Then one day, a million Zombies will surround us here and crush us to death."
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