The apocalypse is coming, zombies are rampant, and outside the last fortress of mankind, a young man covered in oil walks out with a wrench.
"Who wants to fix the air conditioner?"
Everyone thought he was crazy, until a humanoid mecha that had been scrapped for twenty years reopened its scarlet electronic eyes in his hands, until the thousand-year code lock was cracked at his fingertips in three seconds. Resource depletion? He can turn scrap metal into strategic weapons. Genetic collapse? He can transform dying warriors into living weapons.
Whatever powers are awakened or systems are added to them, they are all not enough to see in front of him. When the zombie king led a wave of hundreds of millions of zombies to the city, Mo Rang just wiped the wrench: "Don't break my parts."
