The Lost Tomb Vol. 8

Chapter 59: Submachine Guns and Zombies

I shouted, raised my gun, and fired just as Fatty immediately pressed the top of the gun down. All the bullets hit the ground, making an earth-shattering sound. The hair from the body lying on the ground grew very fast and I went to look at the corpse's face. The eye socket had suddenly collapsed, his mouth opened wider, and the green liquid seeped out along the black hairs.

Fuck, it's turning into a zombie!

The two of us rolled and crawled several steps back. I cursed Fatty, "Your fucking words are useless! When will it fully change?"

Fatty said, "I've already admitted my mistake. I really haven't seen such a corpse change like this. This is a fucking model for the determined disabled in the zombie world!"

I told him, "Look in that equipment bag for black donkey hooves or other useful things."

"Damn it! The bag wasn't that big, do you think there would be such a thing? Do you think there are chihuahua donkeys in the world?"

I used a flashlight to illuminate the corpse, which turned over unexpectedly. I quickly turned the flashlight to another place and said, "Go get Little Brother or get some of his blood!"

Fatty suddenly remembered something and said, "I have it, I have it, I don't need it, I have blood!"

"Your blood has no damn use!"

"Not my blood, it's Little Brother's. I asked him for it before." Fatty took something out of his pocket and I saw it was a sanitary napkin with some blood on it.

"You—" I really wanted to hit my head against the wall, "Where did you get it from?"

"When Little Brother was injured once, I secretly saved it. It wasn't easy to save so much." Fatty said, "I'm telling you, you don't need to light mosquito incense when you leave it at home in summer."

"Fuck me." I couldn't understand this weird situation. Fatty said, "Don't mind it. Come on, let's show it who's boss." As he said this, he pointed the napkin at the corpse and said, "Get down and hold out your hand."

At a glance, there was only a pool of green water on the ground, and the body had disappeared. When I shined the flashlight on the ground, I was bewildered—the body was now lying on the coffin.

"He didn't understand it correctly. Are you sure this is Little Brother's blood?" I asked.

"Absolutely sure! I've never been careless with such life-saving things." Fatty said, "Wait a minute. You know the pronunciation of ancient people was different from that of modern people. Try the ancient pronunciation."

"I won't." I said, "Little Brother didn't say anything when he was intimidating the female corpse that one time!"

Fatty tugged at the napkin and called again. Seeing that the body was still unresponsive, he said, "Maybe Little Brother's blood can only deal with the female body? Is this corpse a man?"

I shook my head and looked at the body covered with black hair—it had only one hand, but jumped nimbly from the coffin to the ground and crawled towards us. We immediately retreated more than ten meters for fear of being caught by him.

Fatty was still holding the napkin but the body was still completely unafraid. Fatty had blue veins standing out on his forehead and suddenly slapped the sanitary napkin directly on the body's face. He pulled the submachine gun from his back and said to me, "Damn it, it's not reliable. Let's play hardball and give him a second round!"

I immediately followed him—just as the body quickly approached us with a few steps, we both held our guns and fired directly at it. The bullets all hit the body like rain water, knocking it over a dozen times and folding it behind the coffin. We immediately went around and saw holes smoking all over it. But then the body flipped over, turned around, and continued to climb towards us.