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    Many people actually don't recognize the difference between a d-type zombie and a d2. At the beginning, a d2 rushed into the gathering place and caused no change. The armed police used several heavy machine guns and rocket launchers to kill it. Now such a strong zombie appeared on the stage.  Facing the zombies was another militiaman who had just put on a military uniform and held a steel knife. How could this not make them terrified.

    Then there were cries of crying fathers and mothers, and the crowd began to commotion. The great turmoil just broke out, and the huge gunshots of large-caliber anti-aircraft machine guns burst out, and the sound of 14.5mm gunfire was deafening.  The muzzles of the rotating dual-mounted anti-aircraft machine guns sprayed out. Tens of thousands of people were frightened by the gunshots. The only ones who were not frightened were the militiamen and d-type zombies on the stage. The zombies had already stood on the platform.  Stretching his muscles and bones, the militiaman held his sword and shield tightly and looked at the zombie in front of him sweating profusely.

    The militiaman is just a small person. He has never thought about what great achievements he can achieve. He is just an ordinary person who likes to take advantage of small things and is not too timid. Standing here is also a misunderstanding.  Toilet, when he came back, the recruiter had explained the reasons for the previous recruitment, and was explaining the rewards that the camp would give. When he heard about cigarettes, wine, and canned fresh meat, he thought it was a rare opportunity, and agreed to it first.

    As soon as he agreed, he realized that something was wrong. His comrades did not fight with him, but looked at him with unbelievable eyes. Now he felt guilty.  Terrible news.

    Fortunately, the camp wanted him to be a model, not to make him a snack. The temporary assault taught him how to fight d-type zombies for two hours. After two hours passed, he only learned that d-type zombies are very powerful.  The speed is not slow, and I don¡¯t remember everything else. Now when he faces it formally, he realizes how correct the instructor said. The zombie in front of him is tall and burly, like a handsome man before the end of the world. Let alone he has become a zombie now.  It is still alive, and the militiamen dare not say that they can fight, but the military law of the camp is strict. Once he does not want to do it, what awaits him will be dealt with as deserters. The camp treats deserters most cruelly.  receive.

    Facing the d-type zombies, he was sweating profusely and his legs were trembling. The zombies sniffed the air, showed an excited expression, and rushed towards him. Facing the d-type zombies, the only thing he could do was to keep backing away  , until there was a clear gunshot behind him, and looking back, his captain aimed at him with a pistol. The captain had a serious face and his eyes were indifferent. In the captain's eyes, he saw death.

    The performance of the militiaman fell into the eyes of the audience below. They knew that the militiaman was also afraid. His expression and psychology were no different from theirs when dealing with the zombies.  I don't believe that the militiamen can kill d-type zombies. What if the d-type zombies kill the militiamen and run down to kill them?

    Compared with the worries of the onlookers below, the militiamen on the stage felt unprecedented fear. At this moment, he finally knew why the camp chose people among them. The camp told the people below that they were all people.  In the face of danger, either resist in a desperate situation, or give up in a desperate situation. If he kills a zombie, it proves that ordinary people also have the ability to kill a zombie. If he gives up resisting, the camp will allow him to be killed by a zombie.  Putting his captain on stage to kill the d-type zombies, he can also be used as a negative example, the difference between having courage and not having courage.

    After thinking about it, the zombie has already arrived in front of him, waving its big claws to grab him. At this moment, the only thing he remembers is the sentence he heard most every day: "Hold up your shields, that's the only thing you can save your life!"  thing¡­¡­"

    The big paw hit heavily on the shield of the militiaman. At this moment, he completely forgot about last night's training and the usual training. He only knew that the zombies could not catch him. He didn't tilt the shield.  He tried to slide the zombie's claws away, but resisted the shield with all his strength, trying to resist the huge force of the zombie.

    "when¡­¡­"

    Fortunately, the militiaman lowered the first claw, and before he could catch his breath, the second claw landed on the shield again. This time, the militiaman couldn't hold on any longer, and took a step back. This time, half of his body was on the ground.  Numb, he took a step back and didn't stand still, he slammed into the shield with great force, and the militiaman couldn't even hold the knife this time, and fell out spurting blood.

    The militiaman fell heavily on the floor, his heart ached, another spurt of blood spewed out from his mouth, the blood he spewed drove the d-type zombies into a frenzy, the zombie ran over to the militiaman, raised its claws and swung down, looking  Seeing the paw waving down, the militiaman shuddered, lying on the ground and rolling to one side, before stopping, the zombie turned back to him.

    At this time, the militiaman had sensed that the god of death was smiling at him, and couldn't help but look at his captain for help, only to see that the captain was receiving a long sword and steel shield of the same style as his, and seemed to be preparing to go on stage.?? Prepare.

    He only saw here that the zombie had already arrived in front of him, and the militiaman could only roll out again. For five minutes in a row, the militiaman lying on the ground was panting and dizzy, but the zombie followed him closely without letting go. The militiaman knew that  No one can help him, everything can only rely on himself.

    Once again evading the attack of the zombies, the militiaman took the opportunity to kneel on one knee, scanning around, looking for opportunities, his eyes on the zombies, the ground, and the companions below, looking for a chance to survive.

    Rolling sideways several times in a row, the militiamen didn't find any opportunities on others. Only then did he truly understand that everything can only be relied on by himself. On the stage, besides him, there is also a d-shaped zombie that kills him.  Leaving one, the militiaman naturally didn't want to die. He fixed his eyes on the long knife behind the zombie, which was his only offensive weapon.

    The zombie doesn't think too much, it just wants to eat the blood in front of it, the atmosphere here makes it anxious, the wind brings a lot of human taste, the unprecedented amount of human taste makes the zombie feel happy, it is like falling into a granary  The mouse can't wait to have a full meal.

    Zombies will never be as ambitious as human beings. They focus on reality. The militiamen scurrying in front of it like mice will be their first dish. The zombies are anxious after several times of slamming.  The roar fell into the ears of the onlookers, and it sounded like the zombies mocking the militiamen. They saw the militiamen struggling under the claws of the zombies again and again, as if returning to the day when the virus broke out, countless people were on the street, working  Buildings, buses, and shopping malls were torn apart and devoured by zombies.

    It is enough to experience this kind of nightmare once. Countless people struggled from this kind of nightmare to the gathering place. In the gathering place, they would rather be starved to death than go out. They were scared to death by the nightmare  courage.

    Now that the nightmare is reappearing, what they are seeing is not the militiamen struggling under the claws of the zombies, but they are the ones who are on the front line of life and death under the claws of the zombies, so they don't look at it with the eyes of bystanders, but with the eyes of substitutes.  Worried about every time the militiamen were in danger, and rejoiced every time he escaped.

    The game of the eagle catching chickens above is still going on, and the hearts of thousands of people below melt into one. They inhale together because of tension, and exhale for rejoicing at the same time.  The windows of the big cars were buzzing.

    No one feels bored or bored, they even hope that it will continue like this forever, and the militia will never be eaten, and some people even pray to God in their hearts to let the d-type zombies exhaust themselves to death.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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