Chapter 132: Go to Hell, Bastards!
Under the moonlight, the dead stood up.
Merle grinned widely, shouting arrogantly, "Rotten trash, want to eat my flesh? Come on!"
Several walkers stumbled forward, their turbid eyes revealing bloodthirsty desire.
Then Merle didn't retreat but attacked, charging into the middle of several walkers.
Cold light stabbed out. The knife fiercely smashed into a walker's eye. Bursting juices splattered everywhere.
Merle didn't turn around—his back leg kicked straight out.
The walker attacking from behind immediately fell to the ground. Merle twisted the knife. Flesh produced sticky stirring sounds. The walker lost power like a robot with cut electricity.
The walker at his side had already approached, mouth opening to bite.
Merle was calm and composed—right elbow strike.
The bracer's back had a solid triangular spike. It pierced into the walker's mouth in one go. Extracting his arm, the walker fell.
Twisting his body, borrowing the rotation's momentum, the knife stabbed out again, piercing from lower jaw into brainstem. Life faded from the walker's eyes.
In flowing movements, several walkers all lay on the ground.
Merle grinned and kicked the corpses on the ground twice. "Want to eat me? Practice more in your next life."
The entrance and exit again produced thudding dull sounds—walkers jumping down.
More and more walkers were approaching this way.
The smile gradually stiffened. Merle spat saliva. "Fuck, I'll fight ten!"
Merle charged into the walkers again.
As arms swung, walkers at the entrance kept falling down. The sounds never stopped.
Walkers also continuously surged forward.
"Uncle, watch out!" The little girl broke free from her mother's embrace, took two steps forward, and loudly warned.
Merle turned his head to look—thought this was bad.
There were too many walkers. Maybe he wouldn't even be killed by walkers but exhausted to death.
"Ah—"
The little girl's piercing scream came. Merle's arms swung, pushing away the walkers approaching him.
He saw a walker extending its arm toward the little girl.
Squelch.
A cold white machete embedded in the skull, producing hair-raising sounds of scraping bone.
That woman's face was vicious. She roared while swinging the machete. "Don't touch my daughter!"
The fallen walker's corpse was hacked until it twitched. The head split open like a flower.
Several more walkers placed their attention on the mother and daughter. Merle sprinted two steps—a flying kick.
The walker was kicked flying backward, its face smashing on the wall. Before it could stand up, a knife cut through the air, stabbing into the walker's head. It stopped moving.
"Give me the machete!"
After Merle threw the knife, he extended his hand toward that mother.
She immediately handed it over, then turned to pick up her daughter and retreated backward to avoid dragging Merle down.
Merle swung the machete in the air, turned to face the walkers. "On to round two."
The walkers seemed enraged. Their movements quickened several degrees. They roared and charged forward, losing their heads and dying.
With the machete in hand, Merle's combat power increased considerably. In the blink of an eye, he'd killed all the walkers before him.
But walkers at the entrance kept falling down.
Merle breathed heavily in large gulps, cursing, "Dead people should just go die properly."
He walked forward casually—dodge, slash, dodge, slash...
Walker corpses piled higher and higher. There wasn't even footing beneath his feet.
Merle killed a walker. Before he could catch his breath, a walker crashed into him from the side.
His footsteps wanted to retreat backward, but he tripped on a corpse. Merle's body instantly lost balance.
The walker took advantage to open its foul-smelling mouth cavity, biting down.
Merle's bracer blocked between him and the walker. Before he could deal with this walker, the walkers beside him all pounced.
In the blink of an eye, they completely covered Merle.
Not seeing Merle's figure, that mother clearly panicked. She tremblingly looked around the room. Her gaze locked on the knife Merle had thrown.
The little girl couldn't be as rational as her mother. Not seeing Merle, she immediately shouted loudly, "Uncle Merle, Uncle Merle, come out quickly!"
Round teardrops rolled on her cheeks. The little girl cried hard.
Merle was pounced on by walkers. The other walkers who'd just walked in naturally began approaching the little girl.
The little girl fearfully retreated two steps, her speech trembling as she murmured, "Mama, Uncle Merle, Mama..."
That mother retrieved the knife and rushed back, screaming as she swung it.
Very forceful, but the effect was mediocre.
After she stopped, she only saw two walkers' arms covered in knife marks, but their faces uninjured. They still extended hands forward to grab, completely unaffected.
The mother pushed the little girl backward, gripping the knife with both hands, nervously licking her dry lips.
"Ada, move back. Move back a little more."
The mother took several deep breaths, stepped forward, and the knife stabbed out.
But it only pierced the walker's face, stuck in the cheekbone—couldn't advance another fraction.
The walker's claws extended before the mother's face. She immediately shrank back and retreated, backing up several steps.
The walker stuck with the knife in its face moved forward.
The mother could only protect Ada, constantly retreating, playing a game of chase with the walker.
The not-large basement didn't have much hiding space. Soon they were surrounded by walkers.
The mother looked despairingly at her young daughter. Tears accumulated in her eye sockets. She extended her hand to stroke Ada's cheek. "I'm sorry, Ada. I didn't let you survive. I'm not a qualified mother."
Ada also stopped crying, just shook her head. "Mama, you're the best mother in the world."
The walker suddenly pounced forward.
The mother hugged Ada, wanting to bear the walker's biting herself, tightly closing both eyes.
But after closing her eyes for quite a while, no pain came.
The mother opened her eyes.
She saw Merle—as if killing his way out of a flesh and blood hell—covered in black blood, revealing that still-somewhat-white teeth, shaking off the blood on the machete.
"You alright?"
The little girl poked her small head out from her mother's arms, looking at Merle and smiling. "Uncle Merle."
Merle laughed twice, then suddenly stumbled twice. The mother quickly stepped forward to support him, asking with concern, "You're injured?"
Merle waved his hand. "Physical strength exhausted. Too tired."
The mother turned her head toward the entrance—walkers were walking out from there again.
"Don't worry."
Merle reassured twice, looking at Ada with her big eyes. "What's your name?"
"I'm Ada, Uncle." Ada answered obediently.
"You believe Uncle can kill them all?"
Ada nodded vigorously like a chicken pecking rice, an expression of absolutely believing.
That little appearance made Merle laugh directly.
After catching his breath twice, Merle stood up, took down the rifle from his back, and glanced at the mother and daughter once.
"Cover your ears."
The mother covered her ears with both hands. Ada's small hands covered her ears, eyes big, looking straight at Merle.
Merle smiled indulgently. "Cover them well."
Ada immediately complied, her small hands forcefully squeezing her head. Her entire face interpreted the word "forceful."
Merle turned his head back, slid the bolt to chamber a round, switched the lever to full auto.
"Go to hell, bastards!"