
You've Already Traveled Through Time, so You're Still Not Allowing Me to Criticize You Like Crazy?
About This Novel
As the bloody dawn tore the skyline apart, the entire city was decaying. The streets were no longer streets, but ravines made of broken bones and carrion. The sweet smell in the air was like a sticky film, covering everyone's mouth and nose. The survivors huddled in the shadows of the ruins, watching as the laws and morals they once trusted the most were shattered into powder after the first scream of the zombies. Supermarket shelves were smashed, neighbors turned against each other, and those who had been brothers at the wine table stabbed each other's backs with knives for a bottle of expired mineral water. This is the end of the world. The epitaph of civilization has long been erased by graffiti, replaced by the naked law of the jungle - the flesh and blood of the weak is the only recognized hard currency.
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