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Thanks to his advantageous position, the store door and the billboard outside provided excellent concealnt for Ryan. The two n across the street didn't notice him.

Crouching low, Ryan used the road's billboards and abandoned vehicles for cover as he carefully crossed to the other side of the street. He silently trailed behind the two n, keeping his movents deliberate and quiet.

"Brother, I told you, didn't I? There's definitely a gun here. The policeman didn't have ti to escape and got bitten to death by the zombies," one of the n whispered.

"Alright, alright. You did good," the other replied. "With these guns, the two of us will be unstoppable in this apocalypse!"

Ryan rolled his eyes at their conversation. In less than two minutes, the brothers had located the dead policeman. They rummaged through his belongings and soon found the weapons they were looking for—a pistol and a baton.

The brothers clutched the gun excitedly, trembling with joy as they imagined their newfound power. They were already fantasizing about becoming kings of the apocalypse when footsteps suddenly sounded behind them.

Before they could react, a sharp "sizzling" sound broke the air. Ryan, smirking darkly, jabbed a stun gun into their backs.

The two n collapsed to the ground, convulsing and rolling their eyes. Fortunately, the concrete absorbed most of the noise from their fall, so the nearby zombies didn't notice.

"Two idiots…" Ryan muttered under his breath. He pried their fingers off the gun and inspected it. It was a Type 54 police-issue pistol—a powerful weapon with impressive range. It was, indeed, a good find.

Ryan had so prior experience with guns from his ti at a shooting club, so he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with how to handle one. Though not an expert, he quickly figured out how to operate the weapon.

The magazine held four bullets, but Ryan also found two spare magazines on the dead policeman, each loaded with seven 7.62mm rounds. Judging from the scene, it seed the officer had been overwheld by zombies before he could fire more than a couple of shots.

Ryan felt satisfied with his haul. Not only had he acquired a powerful weapon, but he also had two "volunteers" for a plan forming in his mind. Just monts ago, he had been worrying about how to lure the zombies away from the street.

To ensure the brothers couldn't alert the zombies, Ryan stuffed their mouths with so nearby clothing. Then, he used the butt of the pistol to knock them awake.

"Mm... ah…" The two n groaned as they woke up, opening their eyes to see Ryan standing over them. They tried to speak, but the rags stuffed in their mouths muffled their words.

"Don't move. Don't make a sound unless you want to die," Ryan said coldly, pointing the gun directly at them. The sight of the black muzzle silenced the brothers instantly.

"Good," Ryan continued, his voice icy. "Don't speak loudly, don't move around, and listen to . Do you understand? Nod if you do."

The two n nodded quickly. Satisfied, Ryan yanked the rags out of their mouths.

Without giving them a mont to recover, Ryan gestured toward a black motorcycle parked not far away. "You two—take that motorcycle and drive it down the street in that direction," he ordered, pointing to the street entrance ahead.

Fear flashed in their eyes. One of them stamred, "No... no way."

They weren't fools. They understood what Ryan was asking of them. Starting the motorcycle would make a loud noise, instantly alerting the nearby zombies. And with the street only a hundred ters long and littered with abandoned cars, the motorcycle wouldn't get far before the zombies sward.

"You don't have a choice," Ryan said, his voice sharp as steel. He raised the gun, his expression unyielding.

"That's illegal!" one of the brothers protested, his voice trembling.

Ryan sneered. "You'd rather break the law than end up dead, wouldn't you?"

"We'll die either way!" the other brother exclaid, shaking his head in terror.

Ryan chuckled darkly. "Fine. Then choose: get shot by right now or drive that motorcycle."

His voice was emotionless, and the coldness in his eyes made it clear that their lives ant nothing to him. To Ryan, the death of these two n was a small price to pay to lure the zombies away. In his mind, everyone else was expendable—except for his sister.

This indifference wasn't new; it had been ingrained in him since childhood and sharpened by the apocalypse. If not for the risk of attracting zombies with gunfire, he wouldn't have hesitated to kill them outright.

Facing the gun's unrelenting barrel, the brothers exchanged hateful glances with Ryan but knew they had no other choice. Reluctantly, they moved toward the motorcycle, their bodies trembling with both fear and rage.

The motorcycle roared to life, the engine's noisy "buzz buzz buzz" echoing through the street. The sound imdiately caught the attention of a nearby horde of zombies, who turned and rushed toward it, their fangs bared and claws outstretched.

Panicked, the two brothers forgot all about the gun pointed at them earlier and scrambled onto the motorcycle. "Go! Drive! Hurry!" the older brother yelled frantically at his sibling.

anwhile, Ryan had already slipped into a milk tea shop on the street, using it as a temporary hideout. Within monts, the zombies sward toward the source of the noise, snarling and howling as they closed in.

Though clumsy, the zombies moved with alarming speed, quickly closing the distance to the center of the road.

Suddenly, there was a loud "bang." The motorcycle, speeding recklessly, skidded out of control and slamd into an abandoned car. Both brothers were thrown off, landing heavily on the ground and briefly losing consciousness.

By the ti they regained their senses, the zombies were less than 20 ters away. Injured and disoriented, the brothers struggled to their feet, limping as they attempted to flee. Desperation filled their movents as they stumbled forward.

"Run faster!" the younger brother cried out.

But just as he took a big step forward, the older brother shoved him hard. The younger brother lost his balance and fell face-first onto the ground with a thud.

"You bastard!" he shouted, turning back in anger, but his words were cut short.

The brief delay was all it took. The swarm descended upon him with terrifying speed. A zombie sank its teeth into his shoulder, tearing off a chunk of flesh as warm blood spurted out. The younger brother's screams echoed briefly before being drowned out by the growls of the feeding zombies.

The frenzy intensified as the zombies tore him apart, devouring his flesh in a grotesque display. Within monts, there was nothing left of the man but shredded remains.

The older brother, now pale with terror, glanced back and saw the carnage. His gamble had bought him precious seconds, but it wasn't enough. The horde was still too close, and his younger brother's horrifying fate played out in re monts.

From his vantage point in the milk tea shop, Ryan observed the chaos. The two n had successfully drawn away the majority of the zombies, leaving only a handful lingering near his hiding spot.

"Fortunately," Ryan muttered under his breath.

With his backpack secured, he darted out of the shop. The two remaining zombies turned toward him but were too slow to react. Ryan outpaced them easily, vanishing down the street before they could catch up.

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