The night was desolate. Around this mountaintop resort, it was all rather barren forest, with relatively few zombies.
Plus Luo and his men were patrolling, so this mountaintop resort was relatively safe.
Inside the resort it was empty and echoing; everything that could be taken had already been looted.
Only some bulky, immovable furniture remained, all of it coated in dust.
The genuine-leather sofa was full of cracked splits, all caused by the extreme heat and cold.
After finishing the combat plan discussion with Third Uncle, Li Yu went downstairs back to ground level.
Chew-chew-chew——
A nightingale was calling, its song echoing through the mountains and forest.
An old man climbed down from the armored transport, none other than the professor Zhang Shuqi who knew seven languages, the one they'd met during the day.
