In some of the movies I watched about the living dead in my previous life, the living dead may be able to be unafraid of injury to a certain extent, and they can continue to move if their hands and feet are cut off, but as long as the head is cut off, they will probably actually die. It is probably because these living dead, no matter how beyond common sense, must ultimately rely on their heads to command their bodies.

However, the living dead in this world are different.

When I knocked its head flying, its body only took two steps back under the thrust, and then continued to pounce on me as if nothing had happened. The head that fell to the ground also had angry eyes, and could still roar from its mouth. I've broken its vocal cords just now, but now it's acting like a psyker out of place.

Now I'm completely confirmed, this guy is the "living dead" like a fake.

I dodged its attack again, and it knocked over the fitting mirror next to it, smashing it to pieces. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I leaned down to pick up one of the pieces of broken glass of the right length. The moment the headless corpse reached out and grabbed me, I met it at the same time.

It's still a bit of a dagger to use broken glass, but it's better than using a piece of paper as a blade.

I swung the blade four times in succession, and its limbs and torso fell to the ground, blood splattering across the carpet.

Rao was so, its limbs still trying to move towards me like a snake, its torso writhing in disgust like a fish thrown to the ground, and its head rolled down to it and continued to roar.

It's exactly like what is recorded in the history books. Frankly, I've seen the dead before, but this is the first time I've seen the living dead. This kind of evil vitality that can continue to struggle and operate after being dismantled is afraid that even the strong-willed will leave a psychological shadow when it sees it. And if I remember the knowledge correctly, even if I cut it into smaller pieces, it won't really die, it's just that it can't move because of the lack of joints.

On the other hand, if I were to have a little bit of skin cut by it with my teeth or fingernails, I would be infected by a curse and within thirty seconds I would be transformed into an undead monster that only knew how to gnaw at the living.

Although this is only a dream, it is not to be taken lightly. Examples of being attacked by the living dead in a dream and only to become the living dead in reality also seem to be real.

I kicked my still moving limbs off the ground, then walked to the window of my room, opened the curtains, and looked out.

At this time, the appearance of the town presented by the outside world is not at all the rest of the town I know, although it is also full of relatively modern low-rise buildings and facilities, but it is completely like another town. I'm on the sixth floor of the Fugu Hotel, with the town street and scattered figures on the road.

Because it was night, I couldn't see it clearly, but judging from the way the figures walked, there was no doubt that they were the living dead.

According to historical records, the existence of the "living dead" was the most common form of curse for the living in the Hellish Holocaust, a planet full of death.

After becoming the living dead, people still have a fairly clear mind, but they are unable to express it in words and deeds. Its soul is imprisoned in a decaying body all day long, watching itself frantically attack other living people, and still retains its sensitivity to pain. The more the body decays, the more intense the pain becomes. And no one can turn it back into a living person, because the living dead are already undead from the stage of becoming the living dead.

No matter how hard an ordinary person tries, he cannot really kill the living dead, let alone save the souls of the living dead. For the living dead cannot die even if they are chopped into pulp, and burned to ashes can retain their sanity. Doing so will only bring more hellish suffering to the living dead.

In the era when the shadow of the doomsday gods hung over the heavens and the earth, it is said that hundreds of millions of living dead wandered on the surface, wandering in cities, villages, roads, wilderness, forests, deserts, mountains, and so on, as if they were going on a desperate procession, hoping that someone would actually kill them, and at the same time constantly adding partners in their wailing. At the same time, there is a constant stream of spiritual energy full of despair, which is the so-called dead air.

*

There is no doubt that this is the dream of the Hell Havoc era.

The "prisoner" is likely to be a dream monster.

But the question is, what happened to the seal? Is there anyone else who has been caught up in the dream? Or am I the only one who is so unlucky?

Just as I was confused, there was a jumble of roaring and running sounds in the hallway, and it seemed that the sound from this side had drawn the other living dead in the Fugu Hotel. I had to stop thinking and walked out of the room. Two or three living dead men were rushing towards each other at each end of the hallway. It doesn't pose much of a threat to me, but I can't stand here and stand indifferent.

I kicked through the fire cabinet next to the hallway, pulled out a fire axe, and headed at the living dead on one side.

Fighting the living dead has a low margin for error, and mistakes are doomed, but for me it has long been a no-brainer. In the past, when I fought those psykers, it was also a battle with a low margin for error. If the psionics are hit, they have a psionic shield, and they can be healed with psionic energy no matter how bad they are, but if they are hit on my side, they will be finished immediately. The same is true now, at most, you have to watch out for the splattered blood getting into your eyes and mouth, and the living dead are far less offensive and defensive than psionics, but much easier.

It didn't take long for me to knock out or shake off the living dead who stood in my way, and then enter a stealthy stance, exploring the hotel as I went.

I had to find a way out of my dreams.

The easiest way is to kill the dreamer in the dream realm, and in this case, the eight achievements that should be killed are dream monsters.

Although the dream monster has long since turned into a nightmare itself, there should also be a symbol formed by the reflection of its mind in the dream. Maybe it's someone, maybe it's some undead, maybe it's some object, and in short, it's enough to destroy it once it's found - but can it be that easy? Maybe it's a strong guy in the dream as well, and I'm helpless.

Other ways to get out of dreams are not impossible, but the process is much more complicated.

I don't want to stay in the dreams of the Hell Age for too long, no matter how many times stronger I am, I can't guarantee how long I'll survive here.

Suddenly, I swept into the distance and immediately stopped moving forward, hiding around the corner of the hallway.

I took out the mirror fragment that I hadn't just thrown away, and without poking my head out, I could see the whole thing from the mirror.

It was a werewolf, with blood-soaked black hair, a three-meter-tall rotting body that smelled of corpses, and its back to me, gnawing on the flesh of something.

It made me feel relieved: okay, just a werewolf. Although werewolves, as a kind of undead, also have the characteristics of non-psionic attacks that are absolutely unkillable, and even regenerate at a super speed, the attack method is mainly based on physical attacks, and there are not so many strange abilities. It is said that in the era of hell, if you get lost in the forest, you will turn into a werewolf and come back.

I had no intention of fighting them, so I went around them and continued to explore the hotel.

After a lot of effort, I can only conclude with regret that there must be no living people in the hotel other than me.

And on the premise of insufficient clues, I don't know what other objects should be paid attention to.

I decided to head outside the hotel.

*

I can't laugh at it, I was just looking for a doctor to take medicine in a popular town, but at this time, I started to do the same thing as "surviving the apocalypse" in this ghost place full of undead. This is beyond the point of bad luck, it can only be said that it was robbed. The original calculations were disrupted, and now they are being pushed away by emergencies and losing the initiative.

You can go anywhere, you must first try to regain the initiative.

I walked quietly along the shadows of unfamiliar streets, most of the time avoiding the perception of the living dead, and the few times I was noticed. I don't know exactly where the horse's feet are exposed, there are so many unknowns about the undead. At times like this, I have to take down the guy who is following me the most, then regroup, and then go into stealth, and so on.

I grabbed a backpack from a roadside store and searched for survival supplies at roadside pharmacies and grocery stores.

Unfortunately, the pharmacy has long been looted by someone, and there are still some leftover canned food in the grocery store, which has not spoiled when opened. Could it be that this dream is a time when the Hell Havoc Age has just happened? But there is only one moon in the sky, and according to the history books, the doomsday god is supposed to have dragged another moon into the abstract universe in the middle of the Hell Havoc era.

Could it be that there are errors in some places in the history books, and I was able to investigate the "real history" in this "false dream"?

Don't think too much about it, let's focus on escaping for now. I admonished myself.

Suddenly, I was noticed by some of the living dead on the side of the road. It stands to reason that I didn't make a sound or come into their field of vision, but they stopped abruptly as they wandered, looked at me in unison, and then ran towards me at the same time.

Just as I was about to make a move, a figure suddenly jumped from the roof of the roadside, intercepting me between the living dead.

It was a strange man dressed in tattered gray clothes and wrapped himself from head to toe in filthy white bandages. As soon as he appeared, he was as fast as an arrow from a string to meet the living dead, and at the same time spoke to me without looking back, his voice rather hoarse, "Stand back! ”

Obviously, this is a psyker. In my eyes, he is a psionic person who is close to the first level.

In just three or four seconds, he knocked all the incoming living dead to the ground, and then, without saying a word, grabbed my arm and ran away.

After coming to a deserted place, the bandaged freak finally stopped, let out a long sigh of relief, then looked at me, and said in a hoarse voice, "I'm sorry, the situation was urgent just now. It's safe now. Did you get hurt somewhere? ”

"Nope." I replied as I watched him.

Judging by his words and deeds, it seems that he is very different from his eccentric dress, and he is a friendly person. But regardless of the situation at this time, I am not so easy to trust other people.

"That's good." He nodded, "I'll help you find a safe place again, and then you wait there." I'm in a hurry, and I have to concentrate on that side first. ”

"In a hurry?" I repeat the word.

"Yes, I'm looking for someone." As he spoke, he reacted and hurriedly asked me, "By the way, have you ever seen that person?" ”

"Who?" I asked rhetorically.

"A teenager with a cane, an eye patch in his right eye, and limited mobility." He spoke quickly, "Have you ever seen someone like this?" ”