I know everything.
Except for itself.
Sumita woke up from a nightmare in which he held the pistol he found in the washing machine against his temple, laughing in relief as the bullet swirled in his brain. He saw the sleeping mother, the TV news, the beer cans all over the floor, bit by bit being pulled back into the quagmire of reality. Sumita got up to run a marathon at night, followed by a few homeless people after the disaster. They shouted "Sumita" and "Sumita" in the street late at night to gain permission to live in the new world for a long time.
While running past Chazawa's house, Sumita caught a glimpse of the end of Chazawa Keiko's long hair.
The world is a garbage dump.
The ruins of the collapsed houses after the huge earthquake, all kinds of zombies dragging their broken legs slowly forward and shuttle through it, devouring all the fresh life.
No, this is not Sumita's imagination, this is reality. He saw the teeth marks on his mother's calf, the teeth marks of the men she used to bring home recently. The man smiled, showing his untidy teeth, his breath was rancid, and he could tell at a glance that he had entered the late stage of infection.
Mother is infected. Sumita thought so. He shoved the stranger from entering the house, and in the middle of the night he lifted the stone and aimed it at the naked calf of his sleeping mother. If not hurry up.
If not hurry up.
In the end, he still couldn't do it. As an ordinary human being, Sumita fears blood and pain, and walks well under the shackles of morality, which is different from zombies who obey their appetites. So my mother suddenly disappeared one morning, leaving behind 1,305 yen and a message, which was faked out of the illusion of running away from home.
Sumita breathed a sigh of relief, opened the washing machine and laughed when he saw the empty liner. He pushed Chazawa Keiko into the river and harvested the cursed third stone. The zombie trapped in the middle of the river bared its head and fluttered hard towards the shore.
This kind of absurd world is often more vulgar than soap operas. For example, the alcoholic scum father comes back from time to time to ask for money, and punches and kicks Sumita who claims to have no money. A few days later, a few underworld scumbags came to ask Sumita for a loan from the scumbag's father, and then there was another brutal beating. They drove the blood-red Jaguar, leaving two ruts in the muddy ground. A fellow woman leaned on the roof of the car and applied lipstick casually. Sumita saw the tooth marks on the woman's neck, the tooth marks on the scumbag's hands, and the blood scabs turned black.
Sumita, who was trampled in the mud, struggled violently.
It was night, my father came to the door, uncharacteristically gentle, sorry, he smiled and sat next to Sumita, opening the beer hidden under the low table.
The TV news is reporting the current state of the zombie invasion, day after day.
"Please die." The scumbag father said suddenly, "I really don't need to care about me and your mother, just die, just drown in that river back then, die, die Go to die." I
beg you to die.
Sumita saw the bite wound on his father's waist, and black blood flowed out of the vague wound. He raised the stone and struck the scum father's head, pinning him in the river, and the zombies in the middle of the river thumped even more fiercely. Finally, the scum broke free from Shutian's hand, dragged his feet out a few steps, and fell down again. Sumita looked at his elbow, a light tooth mark, a few blood stains mixed with river water smudged onto his sleeves.
The victims of the New World were shivering in shacks made of plastic sheets.
It's all broken, Sumita thought desperately. "On May 7th, I was still alive. I didn't turn myself in or commit suicide. I lived
a humble life. As a human being, I will contribute my last strength to this world."
increasingly pale face. Put the kitchen knife in the paper bag and wait for the opportunity to kill the zombies wandering the streets. However, they all failed, and none of them could be killed.
Keiko Chazawa and the victims painted Sumita's house pink. At night, the neon lights hanging on the display board kept flickering, and she lit a room of candles and kissed Sumita. The atmosphere was warm and beautiful, as if nothing had happened, and Sumita had always been the junior high school student who inherited the ideal of renting a houseboat.
The pain on the wrist came out from the cracks in the bones, and Sumita woke up again.
He took out the pistol from the liner of the washing machine, pressed it against his temple, and walked towards the zombie in the middle of the river.
"Come on!"
"Come on, Sumita!"
"Sumita!" Chazawa Jingzi shouted to Sumita panting as he ran on the country road with grass on both sides.
"Come on!" Sumita shouted.
"Sumita!"
"Come on!"
"Come on!"
Chazawa Keiko's boat rental flyer was thrown into the river by Sumita, drawing an inconspicuous arc, with a note left by her mother.
It says, Come on, Sumita.
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