A total of three ordinary zombies stumbled from the highway outside the backyard onto the lawn. Unlike the zombies Bai Mu was familiar with, their appearance vastly differed from humans.
Their skin was a dull, dark green, somewhat resembling a toad. Raised warts dotted their faces, and they were completely bald without a single hair on their heads.
What Bai Mu found most bizarre was their attire. All three of these ordinary zombies wore identical brown suits, identical red ties, and identical small black leather shoes.
Their builds, clothing, and appearances looked as if they were cast from the exact same mold. It gave the uncanny impression of corporate employees wearing standard-issue uniforms. Although their clothes were somewhat tattered, it did not diminish this eerie sense of uniformity.
After Bai Mu observed them closely, the zombies' information surfaced:
[Name: Ordinary Zombie]
[Type: Zombie]
[Grade: Ordinary]
[Note: Ordinary Zombies are just as their name suggests—they are the most average zombies imaginable. They possess no commendable traits. They cannot dance, sing, or perform acrobatics. Like all other zombies, they love brains. If you were to crack open their skulls, you would find only one word inside: brains, brains, and more brains.]
Judging from the Script's introduction, the zombies in this world were different from the bloodthirsty, frenzied, beast-like monsters infected by viruses that Bai Mu had seen before. These zombies seemed to possess a certain kind of order and could even organize wars against humanity.
Yet, they could not exactly be called a different type of "creature" from humans, as they lacked any biological characteristics of a living being whatsoever.
The putrid stench of rotting corpses drifted over from them. The zombie closest to Bai Mu opened its mouth, exposing its gums. Only two or three dark, yellowish teeth remained in those shriveled gums, much like a toothless old woman.
The moment it opened its mouth, an even thicker wave of stench rolled over. It was practically a mental attack, causing even the battle-hardened Bai Mu to frown involuntarily.
He was certain that an untrained, ordinary person would undoubtedly vomit from the smell.
This also confirmed one thing for him: zombies were zombies. They were dead things, monsters that could not be described as "alive."
Upon seeing a living person like Bai Mu, these monsters visibly grew more agitated. Like children spotting candy, they forcefully extended their hands forward, letting out meaningless moans, as if doing so would allow them to choke Bai Mu and suck out his brains.
However, their pace could not quicken. They were exactly as slow as the guide had described, wobbling as they walked, looking as though they might trip and fall at any moment.
Bai Mu was in no rush to attack with his rifle or submachine gun. He slung both weapons over his shoulder, drew a Revolver, and took aim at a zombie's head.
He wanted to specifically test the physical durability of these zombies to see how many bullets from the lowest-powered handgun it would take to pierce their skulls.
There was no better time for a test than now.
According to the guide, the first zombie wave would not arrive until ten minutes later, followed by waves at the twenty and thirty-minute marks. The pressure of the entire Script was gradual; the further it progressed, the higher the number of zombies.
The zombie invasion had only just begun, making this the moment of least pressure.
The leading zombie, which was just about to step onto the lawn, was roughly thirty meters away from Bai Mu. Bai Mu gripped his Revolver steadily, pulled back the hammer, and squeezed the trigger.
Bang!!!
The gunshot rang out, sparks flying. A massive recoil transmitted into the webbing of his hand as a bullet shot forth.
Thick, viscous liquid splattered from the zombie Bai Mu had targeted.
The bullet struck the zombie precisely between the eyebrows, leaving a small black hole in the skin between its eyes.
The slug seemed to have lodged itself in the rotting skin, but it failed to penetrate the skull.
The creature merely stumbled backward a step before continuing its slow march forward.
Bai Mu calmly fired a second shot, then a third. His marksmanship was flawless; all three rounds hit the exact same spot. Finally, on the third shot, the zombie collapsed.
Its skull had been cracked open by Bai Mu. These monsters lacked brains, yet they could still be killed by "headshot" attacks.
Following this round of experimentation, Bai Mu confirmed the approximate physical durability of these zombies.
He emptied the cylinder of his Revolver, killing two zombies in the process. Then, he reloaded and switched to burst fire with his rifle.
More zombies flooded onto the lawn. Conehead zombies, wearing traffic cones on their heads, mingled within the rotting horde.
To reduce recoil, Bai Mu rested his rifle on the fence beneath the eaves.
Aim, then shoot. Aim, then shoot... He fired on pure muscle memory.
It felt like target practice. The zombies moved so slowly that they could not even be considered proper moving targets.
Bai Mu landed headshot after headshot. He did not feel that the conehead zombies were any more resilient than the ordinary ones. Just like the regular zombies, it took him only two or three rounds to take one down.
Perhaps it was because his shooting accuracy was higher than that of a Peashooter. The peas from a Peashooter were simply too difficult to adjust in trajectory, making it hard to bypass the conehead zombie's "helmet" and attack its head directly.
But Bai Mu's bullets were different. If one looked closely at the zombie corpses, they would find that every fallen creature had a single hole squarely in its forehead.
Bai Mu breezed through the first ten minutes. Not a single zombie managed to cross the first row of the lawn. The corpses of roughly twenty zombies piled up together, forming a wall of dead bodies.
He maintained a high level of mental focus, even though his actual shooting time was likely less than a minute, leaving him idle for the remaining nine.
"The zombie horde is here!"
Bai Mu felt that the number of attacking zombies had significantly increased this time. Around twenty to thirty zombies staggered over from the road beyond the lawn all at once, nearly matching the total number of zombies from the first ten minutes.
Without hesitation, he pulled out a stick grenade.
The explosive inside this vintage grenade was TNT. Its size was quite massive, reaching 36 centimeters in length—almost as large as a beer bottle.
It carried a heavy weight as well, tipping the scales at half a kilogram. One could easily imagine the sheer ferocity of its blast. This was undeniably a heavy-duty lethal weapon, designed strictly for offensive pushes on the battlefield.
Bai Mu unscrewed the metal cap at the bottom of the wooden handle and yanked the pull cord.
The friction wire ignited the delay fuse like a match. With a sizzling sound that mimicked a lurking viper, Bai Mu hurled the grenade into the densest cluster of zombies just before they stepped onto the lawn.
BOOM!!!
A deafening explosion ripped through the air, sending a shockwave tearing into the zombie horde. Thick gunpowder smoke and flashes of fire billowed outward with the blast. The zombies at the epicenter were blown to smithereens, their severed arms and shattered bones raining down onto the grass.
The grenade wiped out nearly a third of the zombies. Bai Mu swept back and forth with his rifle and submachine gun. The moment one gun ran out of ammo, he switched to the other, using his teeth and arms to reload seamlessly while firing.
Not a single zombie could step past that "wall of corpses." Bai Mu's defense was absolutely watertight.
It might sound a bit strange to say, but the act of standing under the eaves and gunning down zombies made him feel as natural and familiar as coming home.