A Journey of American Comics Starting from the Zombie Universe

Chapter 238 Zombie Wolverine’s Food Journey

In the dark alley, the light is thin, and the shadows of the buildings are cast into the narrow space, almost swallowing up everything.

This is a forgotten corner of the city. There are no bustling streets and no lively crowds. There is only the homeless man huddled alone among old newspapers and tattered clothes.

He was sitting on one side of the alley, leaning against the wall. The dirty blanket on his body could hardly see its original color, and had been ruined by time and bad weather.Stains and dirt seep into it, seeming to speak of the bitterness of time.

The tramp's body trembled, and his shabby clothes shivered.

"Suck suck slip"

He covered his mouth and sniffed, and a gust of cold air flowed in the alley, making it difficult to breathe.His hairline has gradually receded, and the wrinkles on his face are like the marks of time, deeply etched into his skin.

The shadows in the alley shrouded him, making his life seem endlessly bitter and helpless.On this cold night, he only had old newspapers, tattered clothes and a dirty blanket as companions, leaning against the corner, silently enduring the torture of coldness and loneliness.This is his life, a forgotten corner, the fate of a wanderer.

"Swish"

Suddenly, a rustling sound sounded deep in the alley, as if someone was walking towards here.

The homeless man's ears immediately became sensitive. He raised his head and scanned the end of the alley vigilantly. His heartbeat began to accelerate. He tightened the blanket covering his body and held a few crumpled coins tightly. .

Wolverine sniffed, smelling the smell in the air intoxicated, his sense of smell was extremely sensitive.His tongue couldn't help but stick out like a dog, and he licked his lips, saliva dripping on the ground.

"Get out of here! This place is full!"

An angry roar suddenly sounded, breaking the bloody silence in the alley.

Those cloudy eyeballs were full of wildness and greed. They slowly turned to the pile of bleeding meat on the ground, leaned down and stretched out their mouths.

The homeless man then shouted: "Wolverine, you are Wolverine, right?! I saw your outfit in yesterday's newspaper!"

The yellow figure also stopped and tilted his head, as if trying to understand the tramp's words.

"Full capacity? Hahahahaha." With a burst of deep laughter, a man in yellow tights slowly walked over while holding on to the wall.

However, something looked very wrong with him.

The homeless man laughed awkwardly, not knowing whether he should answer this question or not. He was obviously at a loss.

"What the fuck are you doing, Logan?!"

Those rustling sounds were getting closer and closer, and a vague outline of a figure gradually appeared at the end of the alley, and it seemed vaguely that he was holding on to the wall, looking malnourished.

"Haha."

"Here you go! You're not really going to kill me, are you? After all, you're a superhero?"

<divclass="contentadv">"Kill you? Oh, my friend, of course I am joking with you. Are you shocked by my humor?" Wolverine sneered upon hearing this, his blood-red eyes looking up and down greedily. Looking at the homeless man.

The tramp cautiously took two steps back, his voice trembling, his expression full of confusion and helplessness: "What do you mean? I really don't understand what you mean, buddy, I did everything you said!"

No, no, no, it must be just my own illusion.

"Wolverine? Newspaper?" The figure in yellow clothes twisted his neck, and then three sharp steel claws suddenly stretched out from between his fingers.

When I was the most hungry, I never thought about eating people. Although this superhero didn't look right now, how could he think that way?

That makes no sense at all. I must have just misjudged it.

However, Wolverine did not give him any chance to talk or communicate.

He showed his yellow teeth and whispered: "Boy, you are right, I am that Wolverine. Now find the newspaper you mentioned, or I will kill you!"

"In my world, there are too many cooks and not enough food. So I never have the opportunity to elegantly realize the recipes in my mind, you know what I mean?"

Just when the homeless man was thinking wildly, Wolverine, who glanced at the newspaper for a few times, raised his head again and licked his dry lips, "I have a better idea for you."

The tramp's heart rate increased sharply, and his trembling hands immediately began to search through his tattered clothes and blankets, looking for the newspaper he saw yesterday.

I finally found this sheltered corner, and I must not let other homeless people steal this precious hiding place.

"And I'm still thinking, what will the other me taste like? I'm afraid it will be weird or delicious."

The Canadian dwarf who turned into a zombie was knocked to the ground by the sudden attack and briefly lost his balance. He gritted his teeth and looked back in the direction where the stick flew.

Finally, a few seconds later, he found the yellowed newspaper among the shabby clothes.He carefully pulled it out and handed it to Wolverine.

It seemed to be just another homeless street wanderer. Thinking of this, the homeless man covered with a blanket could not help but let out a sigh of relief, so he mustered up the courage to shout loudly:

The man's skin looked like a corpse, pale and blue, as if not a drop of blood was flowing. The teeth in his open mouth were crooked and bloodshot were mixed in, and there was an unpleasant fishy smell.

He didn't even have time to scream. In an instant, the homeless man's body was divided into a pile of intact fragments and piled on the ground. Blood and flesh were scattered everywhere. Everything happened so suddenly and cruelly.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect! I'm sorry, McComb, I kept scolding you before. You are my savior!"

The homeless man's body was shaking involuntarily. He suddenly blinked and shouted, "Wait, I know you!"

He directly waved his sharp steel claws, drooling from his mouth, and pounced on the homeless man fiercely. A terrifying scene occurred. Wolverine's steel claws tore the air and cut across the homeless man's body, making a terrible tear. Voice.

Then, a short red stick flew out of nowhere and hit Wolverine hard in the face, causing his head to tilt and saliva and blood spurting out.

The tramp stood up and took a step back. He felt an indescribable chill. The sight in front of him was too unusual. The appearance of the man in yellow and his weird and decadent laughter sent shivers down the tramp's spine.

He suddenly felt that the mutant superhero in front of him looked at him a bit like him. He looked through the glass window at the people enjoying a sumptuous meal, or should I say the food on their plates?

I saw a man wearing red tights and two small horns on his forehead standing at the entrance of the alley, looking at Wolverine who was about to eat inside the alley with a frightened look on his face.

There was no need to look at the two overlapping letters 'D' on the man's chest. Wolverine had already figured out who the person in front of him was by just relying on the smell of blood in the air and the feeling of being hit on the head.

The corner of his mouth curled up unnaturally, "Hello, Matt."