Grinding Zombies in the Apocalypse: Foreign Bodhisattvas, Get on Your Knees

I've been in America for five years. What kind of Western goddess haven't I seen? A female professor lectures about equality in class, then looks at me hauling bricks like I'm a piece of furniture.

An Instagram influencer takes selfies by the pool. I walk past carrying construction materials, and she doesn't even bat an eyelid.

A policewoman pulls me over and demands, "Show me your papers," in a tone that makes me sound like a criminal.

Then the zombie outbreak comes.

Wu Chaoren watches them kneeling at the entrance to a hardware store and smiles.

When these Western goddesses were alive, each one was a handful. Saintly virtue syndrome, gold-digger syndrome, terminal leftist politics, racism: they had plenty of problems.

Then he discovers that after turning into zombies, they're much more obedient.

When they were alive, they talked nonstop about human rights. Now they only recognize him. When they were alive, they thought he was filthy. Now they rub against his legs of their own accord. When they were alive, they looked down on Asians. Now they bite white people more viciously than anyone else.

Fine! If they couldn't act like decent people while alive, they can be zombies in death.

Amid the ruins of Los Angeles, Wu Chaoren lights a cigarette, with a whole row of Western goddesses kneeling behind him. Blonde, brunette, and dark-skinned, they all look up at him.

"Western goddesses," he exhales a puff of smoke, "stay on your knees."

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.