This scene popped into my mind:

As the fighter flew to the area where the interstellar criminals fell, a huge shadow happened to fall as the plane passed by, and that huge shadow was the main cause of the D-class criminals: the Catcher!

It used its powerful light to shine into the cockpit of the aircraft, shining on the pilot's body, the pilot's body was immediately hardened, and the catcher subconsciously stretched out its claws, grabbed on the cockpit canopy, and lifted the cockpit canopy, and when it was about to grab the pilot into its energy box, the two sides were misaligned because of inertia, its claws were entangled in the propeller, and the fuselage rotated and smashed on its head

Although my speculation is not very substantiated, when I touched the body of the pilot, who was somewhat similar in silhouette and body to mine, I did notice that his body was hard, like a stone mannequin. So, I've been sure that this accident was indeed caused by the D-class criminal's guard.

"Ugh."

I sighed and stared at the silhouette that resembled me, but I was heaven and earth compared to him. A soldier who shed his blood for the nation and the people became a martyr, but the other was only concerned about his own survival. This made me feel a little ashamed when I faced him who died in a heroic battle, and my face couldn't help but burn a little hot, and I hope that his soul can rest in peace.

I silently prayed for him in my heart.

But that's not what I wanted, but the reality always goes off track. The pilot died, the plane was destroyed, and my hopes were dashed.

My eyes were fixed on the holster with the gun at the pilot's waist, and although the hope of the envision was dashed, it was not without gain, was it?

But I'm a little hesitant, this is a hero's gun, am I qualified to have it? This is the relic of a martyr, in the face of his own moral bottom line, I still can't escape the condemnation of my conscience after all, but that gun is now considered an ownerless thing, if he has a spirit in the sky, he won't want it to be dusty, right?

I comforted myself, squatted down involuntarily, and stretched out my hand, but like a timid thief, I didn't dare to do it.

"I just hope to get your help, and I'll thank you, and I hope you know and understand me." I silently uttered the words, deceiving myself with hypocritical language, and finally gritted my teeth and unhooked his holster.

Insatiable greed is also one of the incurable roots of human nature, and I inevitably encountered such problems.

My eyes fell on the new combat uniform, and when I looked at the suit and coat I was already wearing, I couldn't contain the thought of changing it out and putting it on myself.

What a shameless thought, how angry his family and comrades-in-arms would be if they learned that it would be difficult to save even a military uniform after his death.

But. His soul has already found a home, he has become a martyr, and this thing outside his body should be no longer needed, right? He should be a noble soldier who can even give his life, let alone a piece of clothing? How could his resting soul bother with me, a hypocritical villain?

Oh, it's that hypocritical style again.

While shamelessly deceiving and comforting myself with words, I took off his uniform and put it on myself, as if I was directing and acting in a satirical comedy, but I still enjoyed it.

On the body as stiff as a stone, it was really tiring to take off this combat uniform, but the joy of success was enough to make people forget these, I successfully put this heroic air force combat uniform on my body, tied my military boots, inserted my saber, smoothed the wrinkles at the corners of my clothes, and felt very fit, as if I had customized it for myself. I thought so shamelessly.

Though I took off his clothes and put them on myself, and though I had done this shameless theft, I was not yet a complete man, so I endured some more hardship and put on the clothes I had taken off for him.

After doing this, I got acquainted with the uniform, and in addition to taking out a ziopp lighter from my pocket, I also took out a small notebook, a document book, from my breast pocket. It reads a certain Air Force Class A pilot certificate or something, with a photo of himself on it, as well as his identity information, the same age as me, and then I know his name, Zhou He. Sure enough, the person is as his name, with the word crane in his name, and he became a first-class pilot of the Air Force at a young age. He put such an accomplishment in front of me at such a young age, but I was ashamed of myself, and I was only a department head before the disaster, and although I won the position of supervisor, I fell short in a disaster.

But what can you do at such a young age? He's dead, I'm still alive. I can't help but feel a little proud, but like a clown who has no self-knowledge, selling his ridiculous opinions.

I bowed to him, I guess I apologized to him.

Bang!

Bang! Bang!

However, at this moment, the sporadic sound of gunfire and panicked footsteps reached my ears.

Broken!

I have to get out of here quickly, the sound of the gunfire will definitely attract a lot of ghouls, and at that time, if I want to leave, it will be troublesome.

Thinking of this, I immediately picked up the long knife that I put aside, and hurriedly left the dangerous building where a martyr named Zhou He was buried.

Bang! Bang!

The gunfire was very close to me, probably less than sixty meters away, which made me more and more restless, and I couldn't help but speed up my pace and run briskly. And at this time, the sound of slightly panicked footsteps was running towards me, very quickly. But I didn't want to be dragged into the water by them and become the target of those ghouls, so I unconsciously picked up my speed again, and ran almost at full speed.

However, when people have evil thoughts, there will always be retribution, but there is only time sooner or later. And I was like that, I didn't mean to reach out to save them, and I wanted to get rid of them and stay away from them, so retribution came.

Ho!!!

Four ghouls appeared in front of the street where I had fled in a hurry, and they turned around, looked at me excitedly, roared, and scrambled to pounce on me.

At this time, using a knife to fight them hand-to-hand was undoubtedly looking for death, so I hurriedly took out my gun, aimed it at them, and fired.

Bang bang!

Four shots in succession, all of them hit the forehead, burying their second life, this kind of marksmanship makes me feel a little complacent, strength? This should be considered strength, right? I'm reminded of what Starcore said to me yesterday.

"Someone!!"

A crisp, somewhat surprising voice drilled into my ears.

I looked back and saw a middle-aged man and a teenage girl running towards me quickly, and quickly ran up to me.

"We're going to get out of here quickly, the gunfire will draw them all in."

Before I could speak, the middle-aged man in a brown leather coat, holding two sharp bone chopping knives in his left hand and a gun in his right hand, who looked like a decadent uncle, spoke, his voice was mechanical and stiff, he glanced at the four dead ghouls on the ground, and saw my Air Force combat uniform under his coat, and then he looked at me.

So, I had two more accomplices, in order to avoid the encirclement of those ghouls, the three of them ran lifelessly, even if they encountered sporadic ghouls, they were also solved by hand, the bone chopping knife in the hands of the middle-aged uncle was extremely sharp, especially the technique was ruthless, and if the knife went down, there must be a ghoul who became a headless ghost.

"Whew!"

"Whew!"

Hiding in a makeshift shelter, in a small supermarket, I and the girl were breathing a little short, and her unusually majestic peaks that rose and fell because of the violent wheezing caught my eye, of course, I was a gentleman, and my eyes were only for tasting and appreciating.

That's when I took a closer look at the two Zero Hour allies.

This girl is about to be in her early twenties, with shawl hair, trimmed bangs that have been a little too long, her delicate face is dyed with a slight flush under the covered dust, she is wearing leather pants and leather boots, and her upper body is a black slim jacket.

After taking a closer look at her, I turned my attention to the middle-aged uncle, who was wearing a brown leather coat, which looked to be some years old, the leather fabric on it had begun to crack, and there were several mottled cigarette scars on it, and the bottom body was wearing black slacks that didn't match well, and the dust on the slacks looked like he had just returned from a break from the construction site.

The uncle was about forty years old, his hair was a little messy, his beard was unkempt, and he had a shallow scar on the left side of his face, which was nearly seven or eight centimeters long, only half a centimeter from his left eye, which was extremely dangerous. The right eye is cloudy, like the eyeball is covered with an impermeable membrane. The two oily bonclashing blades in my hand had a few gaps, but they were still unusually sharp, because I had seen them.