In this exchange of blows, Yang Yong felt as if someone had stuffed a bomb into his chest...
He felt awful enough to cry!
"Quick! Hurry!" Yang Yong used the force to retreat three steps.
He raised his right fist again and punched out.
Bang!
This time, the blood churned in Yang Yong's chest, and a sweet, metallic taste surged into his throat.
He forcibly swallowed that mouthful of blood, his throat making an audible gulp.
But a trace of crimson still trickled from the corner of his mouth.
The Zombie King stood there and tilted his head.
The corner of his mouth twitched, forming an expression that looked like a smile, yet not quite.
The muscles on that wrinkled face moved stiffly.
But Yang Yong understood.
He was mocking him.
He was saying: That's it? You little ant, you're no good!
Then... a punch.
One punch.
And another.
Three punches in succession, all aimed at Yang Yong's face.
Damn it! The face again!
Yang Yong had no choice but to meet his blows with his right fist.
Another three impacts.
With every collision, Yang Yong could feel his bones groaning.
It did not feel like fists colliding. It felt like someone was pounding his marrow with an iron hammer, blow after blow.
Something seemed to be screaming inside his marrow.
Agony!
This time, Yang Yong finally... saw hope.
"Quick!" Yang Yong roared.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zheng Xiaofeng over on the other side, shielding his front with the Tortoiseshell Shield and carrying a Zombie as he rushed toward the Light Gate.
Bang!
A bullet came from the distance.
It struck the Tortoiseshell Shield and ricocheted away.
Seeing this, the hidden gunman stopped attacking the Tortoiseshell Shield and turned his fire on Zheng Xiaofeng himself.