He pressed his palms together, murmured a Buddhist invocation, then thrust both palms forward...
A Dragon-Shaped Qi Force surged from his palms, golden from end to end, shaking its head and flicking its tail as it lunged at a zombie on the other side of the battlefield.
That zombie looked thin and frail, the easiest target to take.
The Dragon-Shaped Qi Force wrapped around the zombie's body. The Monk drew his palms toward himself and pulled. The Dragon-Shaped Qi Force obediently flew back with the zombie, so fast that its limbs flapped in the wind.
Everyone watched with delight.
The last one.
No... this was the ninety-ninth.
Once this one was taken in, they would only need one more.
As for that last one, Wang Ying was still holding off the Zombie King, while Yang Yong's Throwing Knives formation was closing in from another direction. It would catch one any moment now.
Hope had just begun to rise.
Bang...
A gunshot rang out.
It had not come from the convoy.
It came from somewhere in the distance. No one knew which street, which building, or who had fired.
That shot was terrifyingly precise. The bullet flew from at least three hundred meters away, crossed the street, passed through the gaps between vehicles and the zombie fragments flying across the battlefield, and struck the zombie wrapped in the Monk's Dragon-Shaped Qi Force.
Right in the head.
It exploded with a crash.
The zombie's head burst like a smashed watermelon, scattering red, white, and black across the ground. Its headless body struggled twice within the Dragon-Shaped Qi Force, then went completely still.
Everyone froze.
Time seemed to stand still for a second.
The Monk's Dragon-Shaped Qi Force was still there, but it now held a headless corpse. A corpse would not do.