"Had I not turned into a zombie? Or had I become a conscious zombie?"
Certain that he was still at home and still conscious, Huang Tian struggled to rise like a man waking from a drunken stupor. He discovered that he was not as weak as he had imagined; he could clearly feel his strength constantly recovering. Within moments, he was as refreshed as usual, his whole body light and relaxed.
Looking out the window, though it was daytime, the sky appeared dark and heavy, with barely any warm light to be felt.
Looking down below, his eyesight was still sharp enough to clearly make out the skin of zombies a hundred meters away, reaching as far as roughly five hundred meters.
It was still the same miserable scene of the apocalypse...
Countless sedans, like scrapped vehicles, were crammed and jammed along the crisscrossing streets. Several cars were still smoking, while many had smashed through guardrails, lying across sidewalks or crashing into storefronts.
Shattered, gleaming glass fragments littered the ground. All kinds of broken debris lay toppled in every direction. Streaks of blood had congealed into dark red, and dried severed limbs and bodies were scattered everywhere.
More importantly, countless grayish-white "people" wandered about in confusion, most moving stiffly and grotesquely. A small number stood motionless, like statues.
These could no longer be considered human. Some were missing hands and feet, some had their stomachs and intestines hanging out, some had rotten flesh covering their faces. Their gray-white, shriveled skin, tattered and damaged clothes, and bloodstained bodies...
Compared to before, there were no longer living people fighting their way out through bloodshed and fleeing. There were no longer vehicles blaring their horns and roaring, no longer frenzied, lively sounds. Not a trace of living humans could be seen—only endless desolation