"At the time I thought it was some kind of gypsy scam, you know, those crystal divination, voodoo magic."
"What a fucking ancient tunnel, dug through the earth's crust and mantle, and registering it with a mobile phone number. It's really stupid."
"Is there a possibility that this is true? Those who bought the quota for 2,000 yuan have long been hoarding materials that can live for hundreds or thousands of years. They are now having a party in the wine pool and meat forest. After drinking,
The men and women had a big party together."
"No, no, no, register with your mobile phone number. Now that there is Kiba communication, which mobile phone can still get through? They have all been dismantled and used to make radios. Without mobile phones, how are those people going to notify you?"
"It's always right to have an idea. One day when the camp is no longer there, you can go look for those people."
"Speaking of which, the Salvation Army will be here in a few days..."
Having said this, everyone in the hall fell silent.
Garner walked to a long table, lined up a bullet on the table, and asked the warehouse manager to pick up the supplies and exchange them for half a liter of beer and a can of luncheon meat.
The price of each type of canned food varies. In a standard portion, canned vegetables are equal to 200 ml of beer, and pickled meats range from 300 to 500 ml. The most expensive ones are canned fruits, and some even require two specially made cans.
Come buy the bullets.
The warehouse manager used a magnifying glass to examine the bullet. It was produced by the Countermeasures Bureau. The coding and notching, as well as its craftsmanship, could only be achieved by the Countermeasures Bureau's arsenal standard ammunition.
It has to be a special bullet.
Ordinary bullets are meaningless. If they hit infected people and crazy monsters, they just scratch the itch, but they are more than enough to kill ordinary people.
At this time, a disheveled man opened the door and made a creaking sound. Everyone in the tavern was startled by the sound and looked over there.
Because of the herd mentality, Garner cannot help but look back.
"Hold."
"Fresh faces."
"This is someone from outside!"
"How did he get in?"
"Did he kill the people on duty?"
Several people immediately took out their pistols and pointed them at the people at the door, but because the special ammunition was hard currency and such outsiders might have extremely strong strength, no one took the lead in shooting for a while.
Each campground is extremely exclusive and will only take you in if you have repeatedly confirmed that you are not a threat and have paid some accommodation fees.
"Calm down."
The warehouse manager who was about to pick up the cans for Ghana also stopped and used the intercom to ask the person on duty at the camp entrance about the situation. Surprisingly, everything was normal and there was no problem.
A drop of cold sweat broke out on his forehead, telling everyone not to shoot. There was only one possibility: the other party was a very high-level infected person.
In the past, the Countermeasures Bureau divided infected people into several levels from E to S. This person was probably B level or even A level. As for S level, I dare not even think about it. It takes who knows how many people to produce a strong person.
.
Garner quietly put his hand on the holster of his gun, preparing to deal with the next changes.
The man seemed to have been homeless for a very long time. His curly gray hair was in clumps, and his clothes were extremely tattered, as if they had been dug out of a garbage heap.
Even in this apocalyptic world, clothes are not precious items. They can be picked up everywhere, and there are many neat and clean ones. They are far less than worth a special bullet.
It can only mean that this person has been wandering in the dangerous outside world for a very long time.
He was very tall, but his back was severely curved. Even though he was 1.9 meters tall and close to 2 meters tall, he looked only 1.8 meters tall in that posture.
Perhaps because of some neurological disease, the corners of his face and mouth twitch occasionally.
"I mean no harm."
"I'm just here to stay for a few days. I need to take a shower and ask some questions."
The wanderer took off the package on his back. The package was big and heavy, like a cyclist's travel backpack. He was incredibly strong. In the process of kicking it with his hands, he made a sound, like countless
The sound of small pieces of metal clanging together and sloshing.
Everyone, including Garner, swallowed their throats. The homeless man slowly walked to the long table next to the warehouse manager and slammed his backpack on it.
Several special bullets were scattered from the packed backpack. When I opened the backpack, I found that it was full of special bullets. I don't know how many there were, hundreds, or thousands, or even more.
He generously grabbed a large handful, about thirty or forty bullets, and placed them all on the long table. There was a refreshing metal sound.
It seemed that he had suffered some fierce battle, and his face had been disfigured. It looked like he had been gouged by an axe, diagonally slashing from the upper left side of his forehead to his chin, as if his head had been blown open by something and then sewn back together.
"These should be enough."
"For the rest, let everyone in the audience have a few drinks."
Luka's tone was cold.
He didn't give up.
As long as you find that man, you can reverse everything and get everything back on track.
Obviously yes.
This is a super fat sheep, but no one at the scene dared to make any plans. Even in such a long time, they have never encountered such a magical person.
Garner looked at the shiny special ammunition on the table, and his eyes were straight.
The warehouse manager was also dumbfounded. This man didn't take these bullets seriously at all.
"certainly."
"This is enough."
"But according to regulations, for the safety of the camp, some inspections must be done."
The warehouse manager said bravely that no one knew where he got these bullets. Maybe he had plundered a camp to have such rich assets.
"examine?"
"Um……"
"I like rules."
"Without rules, the world becomes what it is today."
"What are the regulations?"
Luka asked. He had searched too many places, but there was still no trace of that man. After all the continents merged into a supercontinent, there was no so-called map, and even he was a little confused.
The worst case scenario is that he has to draw a map of the current world and then search it all over the place.
Now his policy has also changed, and more manpower must be gathered to find that man.
"Check your radiation level first."
"Please roll up your sleeves."
The warehouse manager has secretly notified the camp's main combat forces to come here, and is now stalling for time.
Luca did not refuse and rolled up his sleeves to reveal his wrists covered with dirt and dust.
The manager placed the instrument in his hand.
Five seconds later.
The instrument emits a neutral electronic announcement sound.
[Radiation value: 0 Roentgen.]
【Within the normal range.】
【Acceptable.】
Everyone present was shocked, their jaws almost dropped to the ground, 0 roentgen? How is this possible? Even the most powerful infected person will leave more or less radiation residue when they return from the outside world.
What kind of monster is this person?
Garner's throat rolled, and he couldn't help but recall what the watchman said. The camp is now in danger, and the Salvation Army will come back to collect supplies in a few days.
If it were this man, he might be able to deal with the infected people in the Salvation Army.
