Before they could even leave the main road, a pickup truck and a business van appeared in the rearview mirror.
Song Jinhe’s expression turned grim. She suddenly wrenched the steering wheel to the side, floored the accelerator, and charged straight at them.
“Holy sh*t! Are the people in that car insane?!”
The driver of the pickup screamed. It was too late to swerve out of the way; he could only watch as the car slammed into his side.
Song Jinhe braked just as they collided, but the violent impact still threw her body forward, causing her head to crack against the steering wheel.
Struggling to sit upright, she shifted into reverse to pull back and create distance. She pulled out a Molotov cocktail, lit it, and hurled it onto the pickup’s hood.
Up ahead, Cheng Yan also reversed. Before the business van could pull closer, Peng Zhixue climbed out through the sunroof and tossed another Molotov cocktail.
The men in the pickup were dazed by the sudden assault, shouting and cursing. Before they could even back their vehicle out, Song Jinhe rammed into them once more.
“Damn it, just how many Molotovs do they have?! No matter how big that backpack is, she should have run out by now!”
“Quick! Reverse! The hood is on fire!”
The driver roared back, “I’m trying to fcking reverse! Can’t you see that crazy btch with the fried brain is blocking me?!”
Inside the business van, Brother Scar watched the suicidal maneuvers with gritted teeth. “These people are f*cking tough. They actually dared to turn back.”
What kind of sinister talent had that woman awakened? It was as if she had an infinite supply of Molotov cocktails!
Gunshots and zombie roars erupted simultaneously. Song Jinhe glanced at the bullet holes in her car, swung her crowbar to smash the pickup’s window, and quickly ducked back into her own vehicle.
As she restarted the engine, she tossed one more bottle into the pickup.
“Agh!!!”
The men inside the pickup scrambled like scorched rats, desperately flinging the doors open to escape, only to be instantly swallowed by the swarming zombies.
In less than a minute, hundreds—then thousands—of zombies converged from every direction. The scene was both staggering and terrifying. They choked the intersection so tightly that not even a motorcycle could have squeezed through, let alone a car.
Song Jinhe could barely see Cheng Yan’s car anymore. She leaned on her horn to signal him to keep driving forward.
The sound of zombies thudding against her car came from every side. When she looked back, she saw a zombie’s face pressed tightly against the rear windshield, its features distorted. Another one nearby was actually holding a brick, preparing to smash the glass!
Song Jinhe rammed through the crowd, intending to drive to a slightly more open area. However, the stability of the spare tire was poor to begin with, and with debris lodged underneath, the car refused to move.
After two failed attempts, she realized she had to get out, deal with the two legless zombies stuck under her car, and clear them out.
The enemy’s business van pulled up nearby.
Adrenaline coursing through her, Song Jinhe pulled out two upgraded Molotov cocktails she had specially prepared and unleashed them both.
Fierce flames erupted, sending scalding shards flying in all directions. The van’s windows cracked under the heat. The zombies swarmed toward the light and noise, and Brother Scar finally ran out of bullets.
Song Jinhe saw Chou Xiang walking toward her, covered in blood. She reached into the car, grabbed her crowbar, and stepped out to intercept him.
“You’re quite capable, pushing us to this point,” Chou Xiang said, his voice dripping with malice. “We gave you a chance to join us, but you just had to choose death.”
Furious, Chou Xiang swung his weapon, knocking the crowbar out of her hands and slicing a gash across her right arm.
But Chou Xiang didn’t know that Song Jinhe could pull a weapon from her space at any moment; the crowbar had just been a distraction.
Just as he raised his blade to finish her, the corner of Song Jinhe’s mouth quirked upward. She stepped forward aggressively, and a kitchen knife appeared out of thin air in her hand, burying itself deep in his torso.
Fearing he might survive, she stabbed him several more times for good measure.
“You… you…” Blood sprayed from Chou Xiang’s mouth as he stared in disbelief at Song Jinhe’s blood-stained face. The machete in his hand clattered to the ground.
“I was just waiting for you to come closer,” Song Jinhe said slowly. “How else was I supposed to kill you?”
She wasn’t stupid enough to go toe-to-toe with him in a fair fight if she knew she couldn’t win.
Chou Xiang collapsed, his eyes wide in shock. Suddenly, Song Jinhe felt a sharp gust of wind whistle past her cheek.
A foul, cold liquid splattered everywhere, a few drops landing on her shoulder and face. She turned her head to see a zombie that had been less than a step away; its head had completely imploded, spreading black brain matter across the pavement.
She scooped up her crowbar and used both hands to fend off the approaching zombies. Whiz! Another zombie beside her was struck and fell.
Its skull was half-shattered. That kind of stopping power… it was a sniper!
Unlike light, easy-to-use handguns, a sniper rifle required professional training. Song Jinhe felt a chill run down her spine. The feeling of being watched—knowing someone could kill her at any moment while she had no idea where they were—was unnerving.
Even though she knew it wasn’t one of Brother Scar’s men, she was terrified the shooter might miss and hit her instead as the bullets whizzed past. Moreover, she wondered if the sniper had seen the kitchen knife appear in her hand out of nowhere.
She had to get out of here, fast!
Song Jinhe quickened her pace, jogging over to toss one last flame toward Brother Scar’s position as he struggled against the zombies. She then turned back, grabbed Chou Xiang’s discarded knife, and threw it into her car.
Meanwhile, on a distant rooftop.
Under the grey, somber sky, a few slivers of light broke through the clouds, reflecting off a matte-black barrel. The hands holding the rifle were elegant and slender, yet they showed no sign of weakness—only a refined sense of power and composure.
Jiang Shian pulled the trigger unhurriedly. A bloated zombie collapsed instantly. Because of the close proximity of the target in his scope, he saw the spray of brain tissue near the woman.
After a brief moment of apparent shock, he watched her struggle to pick up her crowbar.
Despite her injuries and obvious physical weakness, she had still run over to throw one last Molotov cocktail.
He had arrived just in time to see her commit a murder.
A Talent?
Jiang Shian’s eyes narrowed slightly. Then, he shifted his aim toward the burning business van.
Boom!
Just as Song Jinhe started her car, charred zombie limbs rained down on her vehicle. A blackened head, missing its scalp and dripping dark blood, rolled from the roof onto her windshield, staring at her with unblinking eyes.
“……???”
The only thing more silent than Song Jinhe was the dead zombie.
She had gotten into the car intending to ram Brother Scar to death. He was incredibly hard to kill; even with severe burns, he had managed to fight his way out of a pile of zombies.
She hadn’t expected the business van to suddenly explode. Brother Scar and the surrounding zombies were blown apart, dead as could be.
Song Jinhe had been so focused on finding the right angle for a collision that she hadn’t seen what caused it. Under normal circumstances, the van should have burned for a while longer before exploding.
Still, the result was good; it saved her the effort.
Brother Scar’s handgun had been destroyed in the blast. Song Jinhe sighed inwardly as she tossed the mangled weapon into her space. She had finally found a gun, only for it to be broken.
The original road was now impassable, and she had no idea where Cheng Yan and the others were. Song Jinhe could only hope they wouldn’t double back to look for her.
The thugs’ other team would arrive soon. To be safe, she had to take a long detour.
There was no time to tend to the wound on her arm. Every turn of the steering wheel sent a tearing pain through her, blood soaking her sleeve. She drove with a contorted face, hissing through the pain.