When the safe base was filled with zombies, the survivors realized they really couldn't escape.
Fighting is the only way to survive; only by resisting can one find a glimmer of hope.
As a result, the superpowered individuals began to use their abilities frantically, with some even forming a circle to try and open a path to the outside.
The zombies began to fall in droves, rotting flesh flying everywhere, and one zombie after another was instantly mutilated.
There were just too many zombies. As soon as one zombie fell, another would pounce on it.
Their instincts were pushed to the extreme; they no longer saw the corpses of their own kind, but only smelled the flesh and blood ahead.
Even though some zombies had already devoured flesh and blood, and their bellies were bulging, they still desperately pushed their way to the front.
They were completely unfazed by the oncoming superpowers; even with their necks severed, their mouths of black teeth continued to open and close.
The stench of decay from the zombies assaulted the very core of my being, and the dark mass of zombies instilled an endless sense of despair.
No matter how much they resisted, it seemed useless; they could only become food for the zombies.
They couldn't understand why the Mingcheng Security Base would be attacked by a horde of zombies for no apparent reason.
This place is sparsely populated; there shouldn't be so many zombies here.
Some people fell into despair.
One of the men, who looked very strong, withdrew his superpower. His power was beginning to wane, and the fireball he released was smaller than the flame of a lighter.
He glanced around at the other ability users with superpowers, who were releasing increasingly weaker and weaker abilities.
Soon, very soon, we won't be able to hold on any longer.
His eyes didn't show the same despair as others, but rather an unusually firm gaze.
It seems that a way to avoid being swallowed by zombies has been found.
He bent down and glanced at the ground, where splattered flesh and black blood stained the black flesh.
It's all the zombie virus.
He picked up a piece of rotten flesh about the size of a thumb, examined it carefully, and concluded that it was probably a piece of rotten flesh that had fallen from the face of a zombie.
Because you can still vaguely see the outline of the corners of the mouth.
"Maybe that zombie was right, becoming a zombie really is freedom, it's evolution. Does the zombie paradise really exist?"
The man took out a portable radio from his small bag.
Amidst the roars of the zombies around him, he turned on the radio, which played very softly with a crackling sound.
The surroundings were incredibly noisy, a cacophony of cries for help, the roars of zombies, and the encouraging shouts of the surviving superpowered individuals.
He put his ear close to the radio and could barely hear a little bit of sound.
"Once you become a zombie, you'll be fearless. Zombie Paradise welcomes you! If you happen to become a high-level zombie or a zombie king, you'll be the emperor of the zombie world, and you'll never have to hide again..."
On that radio frequency, the Zombie King's voice was urging everyone to become zombies and join the Zombie Alliance.
The man took a deep breath and slammed the radio onto the ground, shattering it into pieces instantly.
He stared intently at the rotting flesh in his hand.
Without hesitation, seeing the zombie about to break through the encirclement, he threw the rotten flesh into his mouth.
The superhumans around him, who were desperately resisting, were completely unaware of his abnormality. They only noticed that the number of zombies in front of them was increasing, their superhuman abilities were getting weaker and weaker, and their expressions were becoming more and more desperate.
The middle-aged man crouched on the ground, clutching his head in agony, desperately opening his mouth wide. He had already swallowed the rotting flesh, but some black blood remained in his mouth.
A tiny bit of black blood easily stained his bright white teeth black.
His fingers were clenched tightly together, the veins on his hands growing darker and darker, and his body twitched strangely.
His face began to contort at a visible speed; in a few minutes, he would turn into a zombie.
"Ah! He's infected!"
The superhuman beside him watched in horror as the middle-aged man wailed in pain, and without hesitation, plunged a dagger he always carried straight into the man's temple.
"No... roar..."
The middle-aged man still retained a little memory, and instinctively let out a suppressed roar.
His eyes began to turn bloodshot as he watched helplessly as the dagger drew ever closer to his head.
He wanted to stand up and run away, but he couldn't control his body at all.
A sharp pain shot through my head, and then everything went black; I knew nothing more.
He never turned into a zombie before he died, and he didn't even know where Happy Valley was.
"Ah! Help!"
The middle-aged man had just collapsed when the dozen or so superhumans couldn't withstand the onslaught.
Their superpowers will eventually run out, while the zombies seem endless and can never be killed.
Finally, one zombie after another broke through their safe zone, and the sounds of chewing and devouring flesh filled the air.
In less than ten minutes, more than a dozen superhumans were reduced to ashes, without even a chance to become zombies.
Such scenes played out in every corner of the Mingcheng Security Base.
In less than half an hour, almost all of the humans had become pieces of flesh inside the zombies' bellies.
The meat didn't make them feel very full.
Hunger and bloodlust remain the only emotions in their minds.
Half an hour later, only a grandfather and grandson remained at the Mingcheng Security Base, struggling to hold on.
They were in a bloodthirsty frenzy, surrounded by piles of zombie corpses, their bodies covered in black blood.
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