"Six, just one left."
After eliminating a soldier, the young man muttered to himself, then his eyes shifted toward the last remaining living soldier. Upon seeing the latter’s appearance, he slightly tilted his head up, as if sowhat surprised.
"Hey, you were the last to die last ti, right?"
He seed to be asking that soldier, but the other couldn’t understand Chinese. Realizing that all his teammates had perished and he was left alone, it dawned on him that sothing was amiss. The person from China in front of him was no ordinary human. Although he hadn’t seen much of what had happened, considering the number of bullets his team had fired, the target should have at least appeared disheveled, right?
But on this man, not to ntion gunshot wounds, there wasn’t even a hint of disarray!
As soon as the Asian young man set his sight on him, the living soldier didn’t hesitate—he turned tail and ran! But his fate was sealed, following in the footsteps of his comrades; barely a few steps out, he let out a muffled grunt as a sensation of being ripped apart took over his senses from his back!
"The seventh one!"
The young man withdrew his knife, removing the bloodstained blade from the soldier’s body. In the next second, the knife began to lt in his hand, turning into a fluid and rging into his arm.
"All taken care of, ti to head over to Dairya’s place." Glancing in a certain direction, the young man who had retracted his knife headed that way.
...
In a little while, at the residence of Dairya and her family of five, Tang Ye quickly arrived Nearby. He looked up at the apartnt building; his nose had already picked up the scent of those five individuals.
"Huh?"
Tang Ye suddenly uttered in confusion, as sothing seed to surprise him. On the floor where Dairya’s family lived, there were only four people, while the fifth person—Bick—was on the ground. It was needless to say that this man was exactly Bick.
He had co here at night on both his previous visits; at that ti, Bick was always out. But now it was dayti, and not even ten minutes had passed since his return to the starting point. What was Bick up to?
Tang Ye shrugged his nose; Bick’s scent didn’t align with his own; instead, it was underground?
"What are you up to?"
Circling the Surroundings, Tang Ye soon found a manhole cover that had been pried open. Here, he could sll Bick’s scent strongly, mingled with a fishy stench. However, the sll from the sewer was too overwhelming, partially masking Bick’s scent.
His nose wasn’t much use at the mont, but zombies not only have an incredibly keen sense of sll, rivalling that of dogs, but also extrely sensitive hearing. In the pitch-black sewer, there was a persistent "slithering" sound, accompanied by the footsteps of a person, who seed to be dragging sothing heavy. It sounded like they were struggling to move it. Tang Ye stood by the sewer entrance without moving, waiting. In a short ti, the man dragging sothing inside the sewer seed tired, panting heavily, and eventually, he seed to give up on his burden, making his way lightly toward the entrance where Tang Ye waited.
Soon, Tang Ye saw Bick’s figure below.
All he heard was Bick swearing in the local language, then tugging at a rope tied above to make sure it could sustain his weight. Bick then began to climb out bit by bit. He was clearly experienced in moving in and out of this place—his motions were practiced, and soon he erged from the sewer, but as he turned around, he ca face-to-face with Tang Ye’s utterly unfamiliar countenance!
"Who are you?"
He instinctively reached for his crowbar, though his question was accompanied by a near stumble, lending the scene a hint of slapstick humor.
The situation differed from his previous two visits, but Tang Ye wasn’t surprised. He expertly raised his hands, using the gesture to try to allay any suspicion in the other man.
"I am not a threat... please, be at ease, sir?"
Tang Ye spoke in English, realizing his proficiency had improved slightly.
"I’m not a fool. To talk of trust here, of all places? Cut to the chase, you’ve got nothing on you to make trust you!" Bick retorted.
Tang Ye frowned, finding this encounter with Bick sowhat different from the previous ones. Could it be that the night made people more emotional?
His English had indeed improved, but once Bick started using complex phrases, Tang Ye was lost. Like just then, although he couldn’t understand, the tone clearly wasn’t friendly, breaking Tang Ye’s initial impression of Bick.
"Sir, I apologize, my English isn’t very good. I didn’t quite catch what you said. May I ask, do you speak Chinese?"
Knowing this man knew Chinese, Tang Ye didn’t bother fumbling with English any longer and decided to skip straight to direct communication. Hearing Tang Ye’s words, Bick paused for a mont, then subconsciously replied in English, "You’re Chinese?"
"Correct."
"That’s... quite surprising. I thought I’d never see another Chinese person here again."
"Well, you’re looking at one now, aren’t you?"
"Heh... right, perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand. What do you want?"
"I’m looking for soone." Without hesitation, Tang Ye replied, just as he did during his second encounter with Bick. As expected, Bick gave the predictable response Tang Ye could have guessed: "Perhaps what you should be doing right now is leaving Camberlite. Believe , the person you’re looking for is probably dead here."
"In China, there’s a saying, ’No body, no truth.’ You must have heard it. I won’t leave until I see the body of the person I’m looking for. I need so clues."
"Chinese people are so stubborn. Well, I must warn you, you might be staying here quite a while."
"That’s fine by ."
"What does the person you’re looking for look like? Maybe I know sothing."
Tang Ye described Lu Xiaojie’s basic appearance. Bick thought hard for a mont, then shook his head. When he looked back at Tang Ye, he noticed Tang Ye’s eyes were fixed on him, as if waiting for sothing. Bick slightly narrowed his eyes.
Now Tang Ye was also pondering. His timing here was off; his intention was to enter Bick’s ho, but judging from the circumstances, he seed to have arrived too early. Different tis, different moods, different actions—perhaps Bick would refuse entry to a stranger like him?
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