A shot to the head.
After being tempered by the apocalypse, Zhou Yihu's marksmanship had made him quite the sharpshooter.
Anyone who couldn't shoot straight probably wouldn't survive.
Song Kai was startled at first, then delighted.
No matter who it was, having someone help ease their pressure was a good thing.
However, after the Infected that had been shot in the forehead—who should have fallen—tilted its head back.
It slowly brought its head upright again.
Although Mona had read the original novel, written descriptions were nowhere near as vivid as seeing it with her own eyes.
She knew the Infected had ranks and were difficult to deal with, but she didn't know exactly what they were like.
So she thought this was normal.
Zheng Gang had never encountered an Infected before, so he knew even less.
Only Song Kai. Only Song Kai.
The shock he felt at that moment was beyond words.
"Holy shit!"
He was so frightened that he blurted out a curse.
Especially when he saw that the wound on the forehead of the Infected whose head had been blown open was actually healing slowly, his mouth fell open in shock.
"Did it turn on cheats or something?"
"It didn't die even after that?"
"Why the fuck not?"
This was one of the smaller ones, the one he had judged to be an early-stage Infected with no threat.
If that larger one hadn't been keeping them tied up.
With Zheng Gang's and his own combat ability, they would have cleared out these smaller Infected one by one long ago.
After all, early-stage Infected were the easiest to kill. As long as one had a weapon, was careful not to get scratched or bitten, and—most importantly—overcame their inner fear of the Infected, an adult could fight one using a