The Walking Dead: I Sell Arms as a Sixth-Rate Seller in the Apocalypse

20:49pm.

Dallas, Texas, Dawn Light Biological Institute.

"bite---"

The moment the elevator doors opened, Rick felt as if he had returned to the biological laboratory inside the Atlanta Police Department's underground research institute.

Several two-person-high biological culture chambers were neatly stacked inside the huge factory. Some broken biological culture chambers were hanging on some mechanical cranes. Among them were two enormous biological culture chambers, one of which was broken and the other was intact.

However, inside the unbroken biological culture chamber, a monster even larger than a samurai-type zombie sat quietly in the culture dish. A thin layer of mucus adhered to its blue muscles, making it look as if it was forming a chitinous carapace.

Two enormous, edgeless hands embraced its arms, and most importantly, this monster actually had genital organs.

Seeing this scene, I couldn't help but think of the BOW 'T-103 Tyrant' from Resident Evil.

The previous samurai-type zombies were nothing compared to this monster; they were like elementary school students, not worth mentioning at all.

Seeing this, Rick said to Al beside him.

"El, when the battle begins, you'll stay here with the Saiga-12K combat shotgun to prevent any zombies from suddenly appearing in the elevator, understand?"

"Okay, I understand. Be careful, I'll be there to support you if you're in danger."

Rick then materialized an AR-15 Beowulf assault rifle and walked into the underground factory.

The barrel of the Beowulf AR-15 gleamed with a cold, bluish light under the tactical lamp. I removed the magazine to check the feeding status of the 12.7x42mm high-explosive armor-piercing ammunition belt. This monster, based on the AR-15 platform, conceals a recoil buffer system capable of suppressing even the most powerful rhinoceroses within its reinforced 7075-T6 aluminum alloy upper receiver. When the first Beowulf high-explosive armor-piercing round was chambered, the metallic hum of the recoil spring resonated throughout my body.

"Come on, my darlings, let's start this apocalyptic party!"

I moved close to the shadows of the bio-culture chamber array, when suddenly a bioelectric signal from chamber number three flashed through the tactical gas mask I was wearing. The moment my tactical gloves touched the condensation on the chamber's surface, the reinforced glass shattered with a deafening roar. A bluish-gray, special type of infected creature burst forth from the bio-culture chamber.

In an instant, Rick pulled the trigger, and the orange-red flame from the muzzle illuminated the writhing nerve bundles inside the skull of this special type of infected creature.

"Bang---"

The 12.7x42mm armor-piercing high-explosive round spun as it pierced the center of the forehead. The moment the depleted uranium armor layer peeled away inside the skull, the high-explosive fuse was triggered. The zombie's head exploded like a watermelon in a microwave, flying bone fragments, arcing with electricity, embedded themselves in the wall. The still-living vocal cords emitted a wailing sound like a baby crying in the culture medium. Three meters behind the impact point, the culture chamber was pierced by bone fragments. The second zombie had just extended its claws when the blast wave ripped off its entire shoulder blade.

The moment the trigger was pulled, the hydraulic buffer in the stock hissed like a viper's tongue. The 12.7x42mm armor-piercing high-explosive round, spinning with its tungsten carbide core, burst from the barrel, the rifling imparting a 2800 revolutions per second that created a fiery red streak of light as the bullet rubbed against the air. Thirty meters away, an ordinary zombie had barely raised its two blue arms when the bullet had already pierced its eye socket—a death spiral specifically designed to penetrate the skull of humanoid creatures.

The depleted uranium armor plating that pierced the eye socket first tore open the frontal lobe of the brain, and 0.17 seconds later, the internal CL-20 explosive was ignited by the inertial fuse. The zombie's head exploded like a jar filled with red and white fireworks, the shockwave accelerating the skull fragments to one-third of the bullet's initial velocity. Among the flying bone fragments, three chrysanthemum-petal-shaped shards pierced through the rear cultivation chamber, carving radioactive cracks in the tempered glass. The not-yet-completely-dead zombie's jaw was still opening and closing, and the burning brain tissue remnants had already charred black lines on its spine.

"The Second Movement!" I dodged the splatter of dark red blood, and the second high-explosive armor-piercing round pierced the abdominal cavity of the bloated suicide zombie in the center of the horde. The warhead deformed as it penetrated three layers of reinforced fat, and the tail fin stabilization device immediately activated to correct its trajectory. When the steel core broke through the eleventh rib, the time-delay fuse finally triggered the explosion—this was a cavity-effect round designed specifically for internal organs.

The already swollen torso of the self-destructing zombie instantly expanded into a sphere before exploding.

The outermost zombie, with half a spine piercing its chest cavity and pinned to the metal shell of the control platform, still had half a shattered finger bone stuck in its eye socket. The air was thick with the smell of burnt glandular secretions, like burnt tires mixed with rotten blueberries.

"Bang bang bang—"

The berserker-type zombie's bone armor reflected a cold light from fifteen meters away. Rick braced himself against the trembling carbon fiber handguard, unleashing a three-round burst that exploded into azure sparks on its breastplate. The first bullet pierced three layers of composite bone plates, the second injected high-explosive into its chest cavity through the crack, and the third was a deadly tribute with a delayed fuse. When the berserker-type zombie's claws were twenty centimeters from my throat, a fireball erupting from its body blasted it into seven regular polyhedrons. The scattered fragments of bone armor bounced like landmines on the metal ground, severing the Achilles tendons of three zombies.

"The stamen leaks from the buttocks—"

The moment I changed magazines, a special type of zombie, resembling a crawler from Resident Evil, pounced down from the ventilation duct. I leaned back, and the blind-fired explosive round grazed its vocal cords. The specially constructed bullet bounced twice upon impact with the ground, piercing its anus before detonating. Amidst the scattered pelvic fragments, a tailbone pierced through three biological culture chambers like a javelin, and more sounds of shattering glass echoed from the blue mist formed by the leaking nutrient solution.

Just then, more and more special types of zombies emerged from the various biological cultivation pods.

Rick switched the last five bullets to tandem mode. The first bullet blasted open the skull of a sprayer zombie, and the shockwave from the second bullet's internal explosion created a directed jet. Its skull, like the exhaust of a rocket engine, accelerated molten brain matter and bone fragments to supersonic speeds. The twelve zombies in the fan-shaped area behind it were simultaneously swept away by an invisible giant blade, their upper bodies exploding into a rain of blood mixed with metal fragments. One flying molar even pierced the bulletproof glass of the safe house, leaving a spiderweb-like crack in the wall.

With a crisp thud as the spent cartridge hit the ground, Rick smelled the odor of liquid nitrogen evaporating from the barrel. The Beowulf XM109 duckbill suppressor was already a dark red burn. As the limbs of the jet-type zombie twitched reflexively, the twenty-three corpses were arranged in a perfect Fibonacci spiral, centered on the point of impact.

The echoes of spent shell casings hitting the ground still reverberated in the corridor as Rick's tactical boots crunched over the crystallized, grayish-white bone fragments scattered on the floor. Twenty-three corpses crunched beneath his feet. Smoke billowed from the barrel of his Beowulf rifle; the stench of CL-20 explosive residue from the 12.7x42mm armor-piercing rounds mingled with the putrid stench of rotting blood, solidifying into a viscous gel within the filter of his tactical gas mask. Just as Rick reached the base of the biological culture chamber, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end.

"Ughhhhhhh—"

The low growl seemed to have been squeezed out from a rift in hell, the sound waves causing the steel frame of the culture chamber array to hum. In the instant I turned, I watched as the bulletproof glass of the largest biological culture chamber shattered from the inside—not just cracked, but turned to dust as if crushed by a massive hydraulic press. Blue nutrient solution, mixed with ice shards, sprayed out like artillery shell fragments, carving half-finger-deep furrows into my tactical helmet as it grazed my cheek.

A three-meter-tall shadow appeared, stepping on arcs of electricity. Its bluish-gray muscle fibers were gnarled and twisted like the roots of an old tree, and its still-unmutated arms were clenched into fists.

"Holy crap! What the hell is this? Aren't there any T-103 Tyrants wearing military overcoats?"

Looking at the zombie in front of him, Rick almost dropped his jaw. This zombie was even bigger than the warrior-type zombie. Fortunately, it was now like a bald, muscular man. Apart from the thin layer of slime on its body and its threatening, thick arms, it was a sitting duck for Rick.

"Since you're so eager to die, then I'll grant your wish. Watch me finish you off with a combo."

The voice just fell.

Rick immediately took out two freeze grenades, pulled the pin, and threw them at the T-103 Tyrant zombie.

"Boom boom—"

Two miniature blue mushroom clouds exploded around the zombie, which was frozen into a giant ice sculpture before it could even react.

"Try this one!"

Rick threw two C4 remote-controlled bombs at the ice sculpture. Just as the two C4 remote-controlled bombs were about to hit the ground, Rick took out the military green emergency deactivation remote control and then pressed the red button on it.

"Boom boom—"

Two loud explosions came from ahead, and the powerful shockwaves from these explosions knocked Rick, who was quite far away, over.

Rick felt as if he had been hit on the head with a club; the dull pain caused him to collapse to the ground and fall into a brief coma.

Rick! No!!!

Seeing her man blown away, El could no longer stand still and do nothing. She ran straight to Rick, hoisted him onto her shoulder, and headed towards the elevator.

However, something unexpected happened.

The T-103 Tyrant-type zombie was not only not killed by the explosion, but its arms were mutated into two huge claws. Its skin peeled off, exposing the bone in some places, and you could even see a bloody hole blasted in its chest, from which blood was continuously gushing out.

Even so, the zombie was still struggling to move towards El's location.

Seeing this, Al firmly placed the unconscious Rick into the elevator, then pressed the up button, sending his unconscious man upstairs.

She took out her tactical walkie-talkie and gave instructions to Tara.

“Tara, Isaac, this is Al. Rick was injured in the battle and is unconscious. I’ve taken him upstairs. You two watch over him for me, I’ll be up there soon.”

"Hey? Sister El, what happened down there? Why did our husband faint?"

"Mrs. El, have you and Commander Rick encountered some insurmountable trouble down there? Do you need Mrs. Tara and me to go down and help?"

“No, Tara, Isaac, you two just need to take care of Rick up here. You don’t need to worry about anything else. I’ll take care of the mess down here for Rick. I’m entrusting Rick to you two. Please take good care of him for me.”

Upon hearing El's words, Tara remained silent for a moment before giving him further instructions.

"I understand. I'll take good care of him. Be careful down there. If you need any help, don't hesitate to contact me immediately, understand?"

"Okay, I understand. If he wakes up, please tell him that I love him."

Then, Al hung the tactical walkie-talkie on his waist, held the Saiga-12K combat shotgun, and spoke to the zombie in front of him.

"Hmph, you unkillable bug, your next opponent is me, prepare to die!"

Finished.

Holding a Saiga-12K combat shotgun, El pulled the trigger on the half-crippled T-103 Tyrant zombie.