Struggle Over the Wheels

The pharmacy was found.

There was no danger along the way—no zombies were seen at all. It seemed like this place was completely isolated.

If it weren't for the charred smoke and corpses scattered everywhere, it might have been an ideal location.

On their way back to the tank position, Jason and the others kept discussing what might have happened here.

If things were truly as they imagined, then the so-called "refuge area" was nothing more than a garbage dump for the infected.

Perhaps, in order to prevent further spread, certain departments had initiated a brutal "human elimination" plan.

But if so, it was utterly inhumane.

"Fortunately, you didn't come here earlier," Jason said with a heavy heart. "Otherwise, the consequences would've been unimaginable."

When he had first watched the TV series, there had been no mention of such cruelty.

Yet one thing had always bothered him: from beginning to end, there had been no sign of the relevant authorities.

Had they been wiped out immediately?

"This place is pure hell," Glenn muttered, his face pale.

Walking along the ruined road, he felt an eerie chill seep into his bones.

As an Asian who grew up hearing ghost stories, Glenn couldn't help but believe the air was thick with wandering souls.

"Forget it," Jason said, shaking his head and pushing the dark thoughts aside.

"None of that matters to us now. Our job is to get the medicine back to the children so they can recover as soon as possible—and plan our next move."

As they neared the city outskirts, they noticed zombies moving in groups, drifting out of the ruins.

Their open-air camp was no longer safe; the chances of being discovered by a zombie horde were now dangerously high.

"I know what you're about to say," Shane said, picking up the thread of Jason's thoughts.

He nodded solemnly. "I was too naive before.

I've seen it with my own eyes—the zombies are leaving the city.

From now on, the wilderness won't be safer. It'll be even more dangerous... no walls, no obstacles."

Shane was a smart man. He understood clearly that even though the camp was still a distance away, it was only a matter of time before trouble found them.

While they talked, they arrived at the parking lot—and immediately noticed a group of people smashing their car.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Shane barked, his voice cutting through the air.

The intruders jumped in shock, spinning around to face them.

"Who the hell are you?!" the leader sneered. "Mind your own business! We found this car first!"

The leader was a tall, heavyset man, clutching a submachine gun like he was itching for a fight.

The others stood behind him, armed with knives, bats, and iron rods—eight of them altogether, looking rough and desperate.

"You found the car?"

Jason laughed coldly, unable to hide his disdain.

"You've really got no shame. If you found it, why aren't you driving it away already?

Oh right... you don't have the key, do you?"

As he spoke, Jason casually pulled the car keys from his bag, twirling them between his fingers before holding them up.

"Take a good look," Jason said with a smirk. "These are the keys. We're the owners of the car.

If you know what's good for you, leave now and don't waste our time."

From the looks of it, the attackers hadn't expected resistance.

Seeing no guns openly displayed, they assumed Jason's group was weak—easy prey.

The heavyset man raised his gun threateningly.

"Hand over the keys. Now!" he growled. "You think we'll just let a drivable car slip away?"

Jason's expression darkened instantly.

He stared at the man, eyes cold and flickering with dangerous intent.

"You think you can teach me how to handle my business?" Jason said, his voice low and sharp like a blade.