The sun rose up, casting long shadows across the wrecked city as Yunfeng and Muchen made their way back to the warehouse.
They crouched low behind rusted vehicles, dodging broken glass and overturned bins with careful steps. The streets were too quiet now. Too quiet.
And strange.
The zombies—they weren't lunging, weren't growling. Some were standing completely still, heads bowed as if… asleep. Others were slumped in corners, motionless, like they'd powered down. The air hung thick with tension, like the whole city was holding its breath.
"What the hell…" Yunfeng whispered, eyes narrowing at one particularly bloated zombie standing upright in the middle of the road, unmoving, its eyes closed as if in hibernation.
"Don't question it. Just… move," Muchen whispered back, gripping his hand tighter.
They moved like ghosts, step by step, making sure not to breathe too loud, not to disturb whatever trance the undead had fallen into.
