One sentence introduction:
The city is still there, but its people are almost gone. On the wall of the last city, a deliveryman was counting bullets.
Text introduction:
On the White Dew Day three years ago, the whole city began to turn into cannibals. Chen Mo was a food delivery boy. When the disaster broke out, there was still a cup of undelivered milk tea in the insulated box in the back seat of his car.
Three years later, Beiyuan City became the last city of mankind. There are no slogans written on the city walls, only accounts calculated: to kill a zombie, an average of eleven bullets are needed. In this night's siege of the city, the cost of one shooting report was 4,180 rounds - this was an account and a life.
There are tens of thousands of city defenders like Chen Mo. He has no system and no powers. The only thing he is better than zombies is that he has delivered food for three years, and every alley in the city has grown in his mind. Two hundred and fourteen hidden passages, sixty-three ambush points, seven bridges that can pass cars - these are his only assets in the apocalypse.
Until that night, the zombie tide began to attack the city. Corpses that can climb walls appear, and mutated porcupines that can shoot arrows lie on the mountain of corpses, shooting black thorns up the wall in rows, targeting those who dare to shoot. What's even more frightening is that someone heard from the noise recorded on the radio: the roar has a rhythm, the rain of thorns has an order, and the tide of corpses advances and retreats in an orderly manner.
Something is directing them.
Outside the city are millions of zombies. There are 420,000 people waiting to eat in the city. Chen Mo was guarding the No. 3 Firing port, holding Lao Zhao's machine gun in his hand and a crossed-out order stub in his pocket.
The city is about to fall. But he knew every road in the city.
