Old Joe's eyes were chaotic, and he couldn't distinguish the pupils and the whites of his eyes at all, and the muscles of his face were rotting and deteriorating at a speed visible to the naked eye. This kind of scene of accelerated corruption www.biquge.info is extremely terrifying, especially if that person is your former teammate, and especially if you may follow in his footsteps at any time.

I don't want to end up with Old Joe. For a while, Mr. Zhao's mind was full of only this one thought. Seeing that the living dead in front of him stopped about ten meters away from him, and then his Adam's apple rolled, and he began to make that creepy swallowing sound and was about to pounce, Mr. Zhao poured the remaining engine oil in his bag on the ground, lit a lighter and threw it directly, and the flames instantly jumped to a meter high. The living dead, unable to dodge, fell into the fire, accelerating the flames as the stench of burnt rancid spread throughout the space.

Mr. Zhao saw the direction of the scarcity of the living dead, and ran wildly, continuing to pour oil as he ran. The flames burned all the way in the direction of Mr. Zhao's escape, becoming a wall of fire that gave him a considerable degree of buffering. But soon, the living dead stepped on the corpses of the people in front of them and crossed the blockade, and although their bodies were burned to varying degrees, they still continued to approach him.

There is not much air in the enclosed space underneath, and it consumes most of it when it is burned by an open flame. Mr. Zhao felt pain in his lungs, the burning sensation of lack of oxygen swept through his body, and his muscles began to ache and weaken and paralyze, so that he would suffocate even if he was not caught by the living dead and assimilated into a monster.

Mr. Zhao grabbed the placket of his chest and staggered forward, his mind gradually becoming drowsy. The light behind it gradually dimmed, indicating that the engine oil was burned to a state of exhaustion. Gradually, Mr. Zhao's eyes were still black, his vision became unclear, and suddenly his head hurt, and he hit something hard, and the hot and humid liquid suddenly flowed down his cheeks.

Mr. Zhao stretched out his numb hand to wipe away the blood on his forehead, and touched the hard wall to the side, and he was dead. He pulled the last grenade out of his bag and held it in his hand, turned his back against the wall and looked at the army of the living dead getting closer, intending to pull the fuse and detonate it as soon as they reached out to him.

, I don't want to be a martyr.

The footsteps were dense, like the drumbeat of death leading to the gates of hell. Mr. Zhao's left hand pinched the lead, but he didn't have the courage to tear it off. The wolf's eye lamp in his right hand fell to the ground because of the shaking of his hand, and the ground was illuminated with a loud bang, and out of the corner of his eye, he immediately saw something at the base of the wall. Mr. Zhao quickly turned around and bent over, and then his heart jumped wildly: in the inconspicuous corner of the wall, there was a scribbled "S", and Mr. Zhao recognized this handwriting at a glance.

Xiao Ji has been here.

Since Xiao Ji is alive and well now, it means that here, near his mark, there must be some place to get out.

Mr. Zhao glanced at the army of the living dead with a swift speed, and the distance between him and them was less than twenty meters.

Where is it......

The distance is less than fifteen meters.

Mr. Zhao stretched out his hand and slapped wildly near the symbol, and the blood from his forehead on his hand spilled onto the ground, mottled brown and black in the dim light.

The distance is less than ten meters.

Damn, victory is close at hand, and if you hang up like this, you won't be able to see it.

The distance is less than eight meters.

Where, where the hell is the mechanism?!

The distance is less than five meters!

Exercise!!!

The hairs on the back of his neck were about to stand upside down because of the breath of the rotting corpse, Mr. Zhao turned around, his eyes were crazy and crazy, and he was thinking about using the grenade in his hand to fight with them for a while, when a piece of the place where his hand was pressed suddenly sank.

Did you finally press the mechanism?!

The sound of a squeaky mechanism operating, and then the ground under Mr. Zhao's feet suddenly subsided, and Mr. Zhao planted without warning. Mr. Zhao pulled out the dagger with his waist loop with his wrist and slashed at the wall next to him in an attempt to slow down the fall, but even the blade of the knife broke. Three seconds later, Mr. Zhao fell heavily into a pile of bones, and smashed several skulls, but fortunately, there were no sharp leg bones or anything like that, which directly pierced his stomach, which was a blessing in misfortune.

Mr. Zhao moved his limbs, and after no problem, he crawled out of the pile of bones. This pile of bones is very scattered, ranging from human bones to animal bones, and Mr. Zhao judged that it should be one of the many old nests of Yuba.

According to the information collected before his arrival, this kind of monster has the habit of dragging the prey it hunts to a fixed place to swallow and digest it, because they are huge in size and have a huge diet, from camels and humans to rabbits and mice. When encountering indigestible skeletal muscles, they will return to the mouth in a manner similar to that of cattle and sheep rumination, and spit it out directly from the mouth.

Several obese corpse cockroaches were attracted by Mr. Zhao's flesh and blood, and crawled out of the pile of bones to bite Mr. Zhao, and were sent to the west by him one by one. Mr. Zhao walked along the road of the cave, keeping an eye out for Qiuba activities in the vicinity and observing whether there were any signs of Xiaoji.

As he expected, he saw signs at every fork in the road, and Mr. Zhao followed all the way back to the main road of Snake Cave, and was already able to locate his location according to the map on his notepad.

Mr. Zhao counted his bags. The engine oil and grenades were all used up, and the cigarette case was gone, presumably when he fell out of the door of death when he pulled out a grenade. There was still the last cigarette in his pocket, Mr. Zhao lit the cigarette, took two puffs to calm the chaotic heartbeat that escaped death all the way, and then put the cigarette between his index finger and looked at the flames that were clearly extinguished and the smoke rising from the cigarette butt and dozed off unconsciously.

The stinging pain between his fingers brought him to his senses again, and he realized that the cigarette had burned between his fingers, and he dropped the cigarette on the ground. The air was filled with the reassuring smell of tobacco, Mr. Zhao took a few deep breaths, ate some dry food casually, and felt a chill when he packed his bag and was about to put it on his back.

This is the warning of the organism accumulated over many years of life and death on the line of adventure, similar to the almost instinctive instinct and perception of danger of jungle beasts. The muscles of Mr. Zhao's whole body tensed in an instant, and he slowly turned around with the handle of the gun in his hand, and saw Lao Qiao standing diagonally at the corner of the passage with a pocket in one hand and a gun in the other, and showed a big grin at Mr. Zhao: "Yo, Mr. Zhao, I can see you again." ”