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墨書 Inktalez
Launch Site, Underground Experimental Zone.
In the quiet corridor, the faint hum of instruments echoed. Outside the sample collection room, the former bodyguard, Black Strongman, sat quietly in a wheelchair, his arms crossed over his chest, staring sleepily at the busy researchers behind the isolation window. After a long while, the isolation door opened, and a researcher removed his mask, handing over the test report to Black Strongman with a look of disappointment, shaking his head helplessly.
"If this is what they call an Antibody, then there's no point in wasting time here anymore," the researcher said harshly. He stood at the door for a moment before an assistant pushed Ming Junwei out and tossed him to Black Strongman.
Black Strongman grimaced but said nothing. He waved over Field Operative and tossed the worthless report aside.
Ming Junwei was strapped to a Surgical Bed, his consciousness having returned but the effects of anesthesia still lingering. He stared blankly at the bright ceiling.
"It's you again." Heizi maneuvered his wheelchair closer, staring at Ming Junwei's face for a while before grinning widely, revealing a set of white teeth. "You lost an eye; I lost my legs."
Ming Junwei turned to look at him. He and Wu Wentao...
"I'll do it," Ming Junwei said with a dry laugh, propping himself up from the bed. He popped open the lock and pushed the window outward.
A rush of cold air swept in, scattering icy droplets everywhere. Hailstones the size of chestnuts fell onto the windowsill, shattering into crystalline fragments that splattered into the hall.
Ming Junwei inhaled deeply against the cold wind, expelling the heaviness from his chest. "Hail! Haven't seen that in years."
Black Strongman smacked his thick lips and remarked, "It hails often in my hometown; they're bigger than baseballs and have wrecked my car before. I hate this kind of weather."
"Where's your hometown?" Ming Junwei felt a spark of conversation ignite within him. It was rare to feel at ease; he decided to cast aside his chaotic thoughts and chat with Heizi.
Black Strongman gazed out the window, memories flickering in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he murmured, "A small place in Kansas, Hanstown Rural Area."
Ming Junwei blinked and asked, "Have you been away from home for long?"
"My father owns a large farm, and every autumn is extremely busy." Black Strongman did not respond to Ming Junwei's question; his gaze was distant as smoke curled around his fingers. "He left the farm to my older brother, my sister got his old car, and I was left with nothing."
"He never liked me, never has. He thinks my brother is the real son, and my sister inherited our mother's beauty and intelligence. I'm just like an extra person in the family." Black Strongman flicked the ash from his cigarette and turned to Ming Junwei with a grin. "I know families like yours prefer boys, right?"
Ming Junwei had no words to say. He just wanted to chat to pass the time and had no intention of sharing deep feelings or understanding Black Strongman's unfortunate childhood.
Black Strongman didn’t mind; he chuckled lightly and continued his recollections. "I wanted to be a doctor, but my father thought I was wasting time. He wanted me to drop out of school and help him manage the farm. Later, I got into Hopkins, left Hanstown, and I haven't been back since."
Ming Junwei couldn't help but laugh softly; from being a top student to becoming Armed Thugs, Black Strongman's short life was indeed quite eventful.
"In the past, I was in a research group with Kenny as my mentor. He achieved success later while I left the lab." Black Strongman's storytelling lacked structure; he spoke wherever his thoughts led him. Remembering his student days brought a faint smile to his face. "Looking back now, my father was right; choosing medicine was indeed a waste of time."
"So you prefer using bullets for cranial openings rather than scalpels," Ming Junwei teased with a smile. "Compared to that, bullets are certainly more straightforward."
"You're not wrong," Black Strongman laughed too, tilting his head back in hearty laughter. He pulled out a hefty handgun from his pocket, rubbing its surface with his thick fingers, his eyes holding an ambiguous glint.
Ming Junwei's smile froze on his face as he thought that this guy might have become twisted after his disability; he hoped they wouldn’t end up discussing things that would lead to him getting shot.
"Kenny trusts me, and I do my best to help him," Black Strongman said as he spun the gun around, pointing the black muzzle at Ming Junwei. He closed his eyes and pretended to aim before grinning widely. "Even though I've lost my legs, my marksmanship is still excellent. So whatever ideas you have coming here, I advise you to abandon them."
Ming Junwei chuckled; after all that circling around, it turned out he was just giving himself a warning.
"You think too much; I'm just here looking for someone." Ming Junwei couldn’t be bothered to explain further. He lay back on the hospital bed with his arms behind his head and said softly, "Your boss's affairs have nothing to do with me; I don't have the ability to interfere. Life is hard enough as it is; I've never wanted to get involved with you all."
"But here you are again—three years ago you came, and now you're back." Black Strongman put away the gun and pushed his wheelchair toward the door. "But you don't need to worry; I'm not warning you about anything. I just want to tell you to cherish everything you have now."
"What?" Ming Junwei doubted whether he had misheard. The disabled yet determined black assassin was feeding him some motivational words.
The Black Strongman turned his face, smiling meaningfully. "It's almost over."
"Uh-huh." Ming Junwei was completely baffled, not understanding what the Black Strongman was trying to convey. It seemed he wanted to communicate some kind of message, but he didn't say it directly. His ambiguous words were quite frustrating.
The Black Strongman did not elaborate. His communicator at the waist beeped; he glanced at it and then looked up. "Aso and the others are taking shelter from the rain at the hospital. I'll take you to see her."
Hou Xiong crouched on the rooftop, squeezing himself behind a solar water heater. He struggled to remove the plastic flower pot that had been stuck on his head, while the plastic sheet draped over him hung in tatters. Just moments ago, as he climbed up the pipe, a Zombie had nearly pulled him down with the long plastic sheet.
"Damn it," Hou Xiong muttered in frustration, feeling increasingly like a lunatic. Why had he taken the risk to come out? That girl was clearly no relation to him; why did he want to save her?
After venting his anger, Hou Xiong felt a bit of his resentment fade away. Peering through the gap in the water heater, he glanced at the street below. The Zombie frenzy continued unabated, and the Horde's pace was slowing down. More unfortunate souls were being crushed by falling hailstones, their skulls shattered, brains splattering as they fell to the ground, only to be overwhelmed by the Horde and trampled into a stinking mush.
After resting for a moment and swallowing his frustration, Hou Xiong put the plastic flower pot back on his head. Although it obstructed his vision, at least it protected his skull. The hailstones were getting larger and hurt when they struck him. The surrounding buildings and Zombies were suffering too; glass doors and windows shattered completely, and some metal signs were dented severely—its destructive power was not to be underestimated.
Hou Xiong crawled out from behind the water heater, crouching low as he jogged along the rooftop. There were no high-rise buildings here; the row of structures provided him with considerable convenience, but unfortunately, such convenience was not lasting. Streets always had intersections; houses would not connect entirely. Ahead of him, this stretch of rooftop ended abruptly with a street dividing it. Below him, Zombies swarmed; it seemed that Field Duty had ceased their operations nearby. The Horde no longer moved in one direction; the sound of falling hail echoed all around, causing them to disperse into various corners.
Hou Xiong knew there was a hospital in the city center and had specifically changed into Yuan An's Field Duty uniform before setting out. He wasn't particularly strong but was certainly bigger than an average skeleton; wearing clothes that fit poorly looked quite ridiculous on him. Fortunately, with heavy rain pouring down and soaking him completely, it didn't seem so awkward anymore.
"Hey!" Hou Xiong shouted down at the Zombies below as he leaned over the edge of the rooftop.
The sound of wind and rain drowned out his voice.
Shouting proved ineffective, and he feared that firing a gun would attract Field Duty's attention. After some thought, Hou Xiong decided to try a silly method instead. He quickly scanned left and right before running to the eaves, picking up a handful of hailstones like a mischievous child and throwing them at the glass display window across the street. With a loud crash, the entire window collapsed, turning the open Store into a natural amplifier that magnified the booming sounds of thunder and rain. The Zombies near the window roared as they surged inside, followed closely by the Horde who mimicked their movements—raising their bony hands high and howling in waves as they pressed closer to the shattered window.
The method worked, and so he employed the same trick again. With a flower pot perched on his head, Hou Xiong looked more like a genuine lunatic at that moment, dashing back and forth, smashing every glass door and window along the street that had managed to escape destruction.
As he watched the Horde begin to disperse, Hou Xiong felt a surge of joy. Seizing the opportunity, he ran toward the edge of the rooftop. Peering down, he noticed a few scattered Zombies lingering near the intersection. However, it was much better than before; at least there was now space for him to maneuver and evade.
Hou Xiong tightened his belt and tucked his machete into an easily accessible position. He stepped onto a pipe extending from the wall, gripping the eaves with both hands as he cautiously leaned over.
The Zombies at the street corner looked around in confusion. Two ragged Zombies seemed to notice Hou Xiong hanging in mid-air, their murky eyes wide as they let out hoarse roars and stumbled toward the wall.
Cursing under his breath, Hou Xiong clung to the eaves with one hand while drawing his machete with the other, planning to strike when the Zombies got closer.
The Zombies had been hungry for a long time; their chests were sunken in, ribs clearly visible. Their straw-like hair was damp from rain, clinging to their scalps. Suddenly, a glistening hailstone fell from above, striking one of the Zombies directly. Hou Xiong even caught a glimpse of the moment the hail shattered its skull, brain matter splattering everywhere.
Hou Xiong let out a sigh of relief; truly, heaven was helping him.
"Ah!"
Another hailstone fell, hitting his hand that was gripping the eaves perfectly.
With pain shooting through his fingers, Hou Xiong cried out. The sudden loss of strength caused him to tumble from mid-air, landing squarely on one of the staggering Zombies below.
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