Your Highness, zombies are coming

Issa held the remaining cup of coffee, white steam was still rising from it, and the fine froth mixed with milk passed over his taste buds. He finally realized that the instant coffee he had been drinking for two months was a What a terrible thing.As for the shopkeeper, her granddaughter finally rushed over, her face was pale, she looked terrified, and she left with her stubborn grandmother.

Sirius, the guide, brought the two of them to the restaurant, and he took out two improvised cards with the words "New Arrival" stamped on them. After receiving double stares, he explained with a dry smile: "You can I don’t use much stationery, so I tried my best to find synonyms, so everyone will understand it the first time they see it, right?”

"May you have a nice day." The civil servants finally said, and then they were buried in the crowd. Hundreds of people are dining in this spacious and bright house. Most of them are wearing gray uniform coats, and they look like Like a real big business employee.

The only food distributed was canned food and biscuits, and Roman received the green beans that were distributed immediately. He grabbed the tin can as if he had received a terrible blow.

"The standard of living here is terrible, we have to leave..." he said in Issa's ear, who had opened a beef and tomato soup thing, and a strange sour smell began to fill the air. "There are black pepper sausages, eggs, and wine outside. I only drank a bottle of the few bottles I brought out from the supermarket last time."

"When did you drink?" Issa asked, like a guardian who encountered underage drinking.

"Is there a problem?"

"You look less than 21 years old." The man glanced at his companion suspiciously. In fact, he thought about this question more than once.

"You don't look like 30 either," Roman said, and he looked at Issa in that way that I understood everything. "You see, there's no terrible generation gap between us. God bless you for saying that."

"I remember that Jehovah will not bless homosexuals and aliens." Issa added coldly.

"That's such a pity. He's the first god I've ever read a prayer." The young man sighed helplessly. He looked at the high wall beside him with great interest. Through the cement and bricks, he had already heard To the voices of the living dead crowding the outer walls.

"Compared to the God who only turns into stone carvings and pictures, the real gods are boring, crazy things. I have seen traces of them, especially after a group of people discovered the truth of the gods, they thought they were God’s spokesman, that’s the most frightening thing.”

"...Are you saying that there really is a god in the universe?" Issa took a sip of the dark red tomato soup, and the taste was not as terrible as it smelled.

"I think it's just some consciousness floating in space, like an electric wave, and one day it reaches your brain, making you feel that you are very powerful and can rule all mankind, or make you think that the previous 20 years It's useless, and I'm thinking of suicide in the next moment." Roman sat down, and he pressed half of his body up, and consciously put his mouth on his companion's spoon.

"It seems to taste a bit like beef...can we eat it in exchange?" The prince who had just recovered from philosophical theory finally felt the cruelty of reality. He opened the can of green beans, pitifully placed between the two.

The sight reminded Issa of his meager childhood, when some gluttonous brat would stalk him in different ways, and he would spend his last penny in exchange for a pile of Sweets and chocolates—it was a wonder he didn't dislike such a wayward glutton.

On the other side of the wall are hundreds of living corpses. For Roman, the wailing sounds are like insignificant background music. He squeezes himself next to Issa, and then eats like a conjoined twin. He didn't seem to find it uncomfortable at all.The man didn't push him away, he ate a few biscuits and then closed his eyes.

There was a blue shadow under Issa's eyes. In fact, they hadn't rested for a whole day. For ordinary humans, that was simply unbearable.For Roman, this is not a big problem. Before coming to Earth, he had spent three days and nights researching how to escape from the continent designed by his marriage partner. The place was like a maze. When he escaped , everyone thought he regretted the marriage.

What about the poor son of a business tycoon who waited all day long in his formal attire, and the many mysterious lovers behind the first heir of the empire who regretted his marriage? The sales of those magazines suddenly increased by 20.00%. It seems that no matter where he is present, he will Aristocrats who gossip like journalists came up to get first-hand information. Roman didn't say anything. He had already seen the ending. The next round of gossip was that he attended the banquet ruthlessly like a competent cheater.

He just filed a bill of claim to the court, and then walked away from the main star - I hope the gentlemen of the entertainment industry will not cry, the bill on the black background and gold border has the title "About Al Franz Romain von Andrew's royalties".

Thinking about it now, the husband who escaped from marriage is also a great contributor. If he hadn’t become a lover temporarily, he would not have run away from home and finally arrived on Earth, even though it was disturbed by someone here as if it was ready to be incinerated at any time It's like a garbage dump, and he doesn't know how to get back.Roman turned his head, he looked at his companion, the other party had completely fallen into sleep, his head unconsciously nodded, looking a little cute, well, His Royal Highness couldn't find a more suitable word than that.

Not long after, the sound of a stringed instrument suddenly appeared, so short that it was heart-pounding, Roman had to follow the music and walked over—if that could be called art, it was a man in a black trench coat, He was half lying on the ground, holding a ten-inch ukulele in his hand. In fact, it was a very soft-sounding instrument, and he didn't know how it was destroyed by him to make that terrible sound.

"Can you stop playing?" Roman asked.

The man looked up, then continued to stare at his instrument: "You can give me money, and then I won't play."

"No money."

"What about food?"

"Sorry, I just finished eating."

"You must be a newcomer, you have nothing." The musician said, and then he finally put down the violin. He was dirty, and only his light brown eyes were visible, and he looked like he hadn't eaten enough. There is no position to say this.

"You look poorer than the rookies," Roman said.

"I'm an artist, and this place doesn't care about it at all. Labor is what they need most. Those people are like farmers who have disappeared, exploiting everyone's bones and blood bit by bit, waiting for the group of crawling dead people outside to become When they're boned, they'll rule the world with a bunch of fully obedient slaves, yo, like Napoleon and Hitler once tried to do." The man sitting on the ground seemed to think that this in itself was like a Like a joke, my whole body trembled.

Compared to prophecy, those nonsense words sounded more like the ramblings of a lunatic. Roman listened carefully, and then comforted him: "If you want to open up a little bit, there must be more than one rescue base on earth, you can move to find an emerging art capital or something. .”

"That doesn't matter anymore. I understand them. They are more like demons from another world. How could human beings be against them? This group of people sucking bone marrow has been lurking in the United States for more than 100 years. They will not let go of any attack. People who mess up the plan." The other person opened his eyes wide and continued to speak in that magic stick-like tone.

"Who are 'they'?"

"The Romschilds," said the artist, realizing the ignorant look in his interlocutor's eyes, and explained bitterly: "They're Jewish."

Roman nodded a little sluggishly, and at the same time felt that he had overestimated this gentleman earlier. Asatus was washing his head with the history of ancient humans. Well, Jews, what kind of reason is this.

The rich-hating artist stood up suddenly, with a strange light in his eyes, pointing to the sky: "Someone is setting off a signal flare! I bet they are calling for help."

Before the young man turned his head back, some sounds similar to explosions came one after another. He also looked up and asked strangely: "Do all your signal flares make loud noises?"

"Of course not," the natives of the earth explained disdainfully: "They are fireworks for festivals. Many people like to watch them. I guess... Zombies will also like them."

As soon as he finished speaking, the roars of the undead outside were amplified several times by a loudspeaker, and their grinning appearance could be imagined through the wall.

"Oh, why didn't I expect that, they must have started to go out at this time." The man seemed more excited than the zombie who heard the sound, he ran, and even the slight limp of his left leg could not affect his speed, Roman Staring at his leaving back with a frown, he finally decided to follow behind.

The so-called gate has been tightly sealed, it may have been an automatic iron gate, with a prominent company logo, a lot of metal strips and wooden boards stuck to it irregularly, and a broken wall that has been repaired Similarly, through those tiny gaps, some blue-gray fingers that belonged to the dead kept digging inward, in vain, trying to catch a little breath of the living.

There were already quite a few people standing in the doorway, most of them with guns, or anything that would knock heads off, and a guy in camouflage and skinny jeans was standing in the front, her brown hair was loose and fluffy and alluring, It was the woman who had been trying to hook up with Issa——Roman finally lifted his spirits and looked at the scene. In addition to the group of people she led, there were four or five men standing at the other end.

"Let me go out, before those idiots are killed by zombies." Luna said, her eyes were so sharp that most people dare not look directly.

"According to Regulation No.12, you can't do this. You can only turn on the connector once in half a month. This is the rule." The person on the other side said: "On the bright side, as long as they attract some monsters , our future work will be much easier.”

"What if I say no," she said, and several shots were pointed at her clean face.