Under One Person: I, the Zombie King of the Ming Dynasty, was dug up

Chapter 67: King Zhao has awakened! I hope you really have Ultraman in Japan
[ps: I originally wanted to put it on the shelves directly, but the book reviews were really criticized. As for why it was criticized, the author is also concerned about his reputation, so I plan to continue to publish tens of thousands of words for free for brothers to read! ]

basement.

The ground was in mess.

Hundreds of suits were strangely folded on the ground, the bodies wrapped in them had shriveled up, and various guns were scattered on the ground in a mess.

There is a blood cell in the center.

Zhu Li stood in front of the blood ball, his robe fluttering in the wind.

a few minutes ago.

"Warning, warning, the target person has come out of the coffin, prepare for action."

A hurried voice sounded in everyone's headphones.

All members of the sixth team were cheered up. The target appeared. No matter what kind of monster they faced, they could not retreat.

This battle concerns the future of Japan.

This is what the superior said to them, and it was also an order.

A soldier's duty is to obey orders.

Tao Yuanjian's eyes were as sharp as swords. As a team leader, it was his duty to stand in front of his team members.

After a while, Zhu Li walked out slowly.

He was dressed in a scarlet dragon robe, tall and strong, with long hair draped behind his head. He was in his thirties, with a pair of eyes that were weathered and deep and seemed to be able to see through people's hearts.

"Oh, look at the strange clothes he's wearing, he doesn't look like a Han Chinese!"

Zhu Li looked him up and down and asked with interest.

Taoyuan Jiandu shouted, "Kangtai, you translate."

Technology is now capable of AI translation, but the Japanese government is afraid of problems with human-machine translation, so it has specially dispatched translation experts.

Kangtai's face turned pale, and his lips trembled: "He asked us where we were from."

It's really outrageous to translate for a dead person who lived six hundred years ago. It's really outrageous.

"Your Highness, King Zhao of the Ming Dynasty, we are from Japan." Taoyuan felt very nervous without knowing why, as if there was always an invisible pressure looming over him.

It feels like walking in the Amazon rainforest, with insects, snakes and wild beasts everywhere, and you are walking naked, so you have to be careful at every turn.

The overwhelming feeling of oppression almost made him collapse.

"Japan?" Zhu Li's face slightly raised, searching for these two words in his mind, "I haven't heard of it."

In the Ming Dynasty, exchanges with Japan were quite prosperous, with many connections both culturally and economically.

However, Zhu Li was a prince of idle position, who was indifferent to worldly affairs and had not much impression of Japan.

Taoyuan was obviously stunned when he heard the translation.

That’s not right. According to historical records, the name Dongying appeared in the fifth or sixth century!

The Ming Dynasty should know this.

Taoyuan Jiandu pondered for a moment and said to the translator: "Let him know where we are from."

"Your Highness Prince Zhao, perhaps we have a more resounding name, ahem, that's Japan." Kangtai was under too much pressure, and said with a shy face and a smile.

"So it's Japan. How dare such a tiny country reach out to me? Why, you want the secret of immortality, right?"

A trace of surprise appeared on Zhu Li's calm face, and then he returned to calm.

This was something he didn't expect.

I actually came to Japan.

How could such a tiny place give birth to such a bold bandit?

interesting.

Kang Tai clearly heard the hidden meaning in Zhu Li's words, and the turbulent waves hidden in his words, and hurriedly said, "Your Highness, the Honorable Prince Zhao, please don't be anxious."

He hasn't finished speaking yet.

He discovered something was wrong.

Large amounts of blood appeared around, and a sense of emptiness that aroused from the bones gradually spread.

Kangtai lowered his head slightly and saw the blood in his body gushing out from his pores, running out madly, running out along the lines.

This is crazy.
Did His Royal Highness Prince Zhao do something about this?

But what kind of means are these?

Kangtai's eyes darkened and he fell asleep. He heard Zhu Li's last words as he lay dying:
"You know small etiquette but not great righteousness, you are particular about small details but not great virtue, you value small details but neglect integrity and shame, you fear power but not virtue, the strong will be robbers and bandits, the weak will be humble, you don't care about kindness and righteousness and deserve to be killed. Father, you are wrong!"

What Zhu Li said is really good.

The Ming Dynasty should be considered the ancestor of Japan.

As a prince of the Ming Dynasty, it is not an exaggeration to say that he is half-ancestor of the Japanese.

Isn't it immoral for a grandson to visit his own ancestor's grave?

Besides, the Ming Dynasty was so good to Japan!

The trade between the Ming Dynasty and Japan, not to mention making Japan pay tribute to the Ming Dynasty every year, allowed Japan to obtain massive amounts of gold, silver, and various cultures from the Ming Dynasty.

This is the so-called Chaofeng. In order to show off its power, the Ming Dynasty would always return gifts. The return gifts could not be described as generous, as they were basically three to five times the price of the Chaofeng of the vassal states.

Japan exchanged a huge amount of wealth for only the empty title of a vassal state, not to mention the wealth of culture which cannot be measured by jewelry.

Since the rise of pirate civilization, trade has all been done with strong ships and powerful guns. They blast open the country's gates and break its backbone before they can talk about trade.

In comparison, the Ming Dynasty was like a god sent down to earth to save the people. It did not bring war or disaster, but would give them money and culture as long as they submitted to it.

It is absolutely true that China is the ancestor of Japan.

What about Japan?

Now they actually dare to come to China and dig up the tombs of Ming Dynasty princes. They are truly disloyal and have no father or king, and they betray their teachers and ancestors, without the slightest morality.

As for Zhu Li's lament that his father was wrong, it was naturally the ancestral precepts left by Zhu Yuanzhang, which listed fifteen countries that would not be conquered, and Japan was one of them.

Now speaking of Japan, Zhu Li finally remembered it.

But it doesn't matter anymore.

The Japanese felt no sense of burden when killing.

In the monitoring room.

The operator stared at the tablet in a daze.

On the screen, the blood of his colleagues began to come out of their bodies. The scene was both weird and shocking.

The blood did not gush out, but seemed to be attracted by some mysterious force, slowly floating up from their bodies and gathering towards the blood ball above Zhu Li's head.

The blood ball seemed to have its own life, emitting faint red light, like a hungry beast, enjoying this bloody feast.

As blood continued to flow into the blood cells, the comrades' bodies began to undergo even more horrifying changes.

Their skin gradually dried up, tightly wrapped around their bones. Their originally plump flesh shrank at a speed visible to the naked eye, and eventually they turned into mummies one by one.

Their faces were frozen in the agony and fear of death, as if they were victims of an ancient curse, forever frozen in that moment.

There was a suffocating silence in the air around them, the only sound being the sound of blood flowing into blood cells, coldly counting time like an hourglass.

Zhu Li stood there with no expression on his face, as if killing them was just like cutting a piece of wheat straw.

Hundreds of people were gone in just an instant.

"Hmm, it seems like there is something spying on me?"

The operator saw Zhu Li's lips twitch a few times, and then he suddenly looked at the monitor.

The operator shuddered with fear.

I'm crazy.
What kind of monster is this? Its eyes are clearly calm, but when it looks over here, it's like being stared at by an evil ghost.

He watched Zhu Li approach the surveillance camera and praised softly, "This thing is quite interesting. It can obviously spy on others, but the energy it emits is so little that it is hard to detect."

The operator didn't understand Chinese. If he did, he would be so scared that his hair would stand on end and his heart would burst.

Only those who understand Chinese know the value of this sentence.

This means that Zhu Li can sense other people's energy through monitoring, circuits, and networks.

How terrifying!
This state has already surpassed that of mortals and entered the realm of immortals, right?

"how's it going?"

The leading officer came in and asked in a loud voice.

The soldier holding the tablet didn't dare to move. He now had the illusion that he was staring into the eyes of a wild beast. As long as he moved, the beast would seize the opportunity, pounce on him and kill him.

This feeling is very strange.

If he said it out loud, Zhu Li would teach him that this was Qi.

That is, across the screen.

If they were face to face, Zhu Li would be able to see at a glance that the soldier was full of flaws, and there would be no need to confront him for so long.

"Xiao Pinglang, what's going on?"

The officer walked forward and pushed him in dissatisfaction.

The soldier's expression suddenly changed, and the strange balance was broken.

He was about to shout when he realized it was over.

The entire monitoring room was covered in blood, which was floating in the air like pomegranate seeds.

Everyone raised their hands as if possessed. As everyone watched, their pores began to change, first expanding slightly, and then streams of blood slowly seeped out of these tiny holes.

This is not just one or two drops of blood, but an endless flow, as if every cell is betraying their bodies and releasing the essence of life without reservation.

After the blood oozed out, it did not flow along the skin, but instead defied the constraints of gravity and strangely floated in the air.

They seemed to have their own consciousness and began to slowly and steadily gather towards the central space.

This scene was like time had stood still. Countless blood beads met and intertwined in the air, eventually forming a red vortex that slowly rotated.

The commander's eyes were filled with fear and confusion: "Headquarters"

He wanted to give orders, wanted to shout for help, but his throat seemed to be blocked by something and no sound came out.

His vision became blurry, and everything around him was stained with a bright red background.

His heartbeat was speeding up and he could feel his life slipping away.

The blood seemed to contain his physical strength and spirit, which was being ruthlessly devoured by the whirlpool.

He wanted to struggle, but found that he couldn't even make the most basic movements. He could only stand there and let the vortex pull away his flesh and blood bit by bit.

The same is true for the people around them, their flesh and blood are being separated, and their lives are fading away.

Their eyes were wide open, filled with endless fear and unwillingness.

Their mouths opened, but no sound came out; their hands waved, but they could not touch anything.

They just watched helplessly as their lives were swallowed up bit by bit by the whirlpool.

There were no screams or cries during this process, only the sound of the vortex spinning continuously, echoing in this space, like the whisper of the god of death, announcing their fate.

After such a series of events, the scene of Zhu Li standing among the pile of mummies appeared.

He waved his hand, and the guns that the soldiers had no time to use fell into their hands: "Is this a fire gun? It's very sophisticated, much more sophisticated than the Ming Dynasty's."

He lightly touched the hot weapon with his fingers, and as if with some kind of magic, the weapon was instantly disassembled into delicate parts.

"Interesting." Zhu Li's eyes turned, and his super strong mental power burst out. The scenes of how the parts were taken apart and how they should be assembled flashed through his eyes one by one.

"Pa-ta--"

Zhu Li's fingers moved so fast that afterimages appeared, and a complete gun appeared in his hand.

Its shell gleams with metallic luster under the red light, and every component fits together tightly, as if it had never been taken apart.

Zhu Li stretched out his fingers and gently stroked the weapon he had just assembled with his own hands, with a satisfied smile on his face: "It is truly a weapon of the country, amazing."

He has always had a quick mind and has already guessed why the Japanese dared to challenge the emperor.

I'm afraid it is inseparable from the sophisticated musket.

But he doesn't need it.

"It's a pity, it's tasteless to eat, and it's a pity to throw it away."

Zhu Li threw the gun in his hand aside, and the metal tool made a dull sound on the ground.

He shifted his gaze to the blood ball in front of him.

As Zhu Li waved his hand gently, the blood cells began to change.

It was no longer still, but began to rotate slowly, from slow to fast. An invisible storm formed around it, which slowly compressed the blood in the blood cell, from outside to inside, from loose to tight. Every drop of blood was under Zhu Li's control.

The blood made a subtle sound during the compression process, as if it was the sound of blood flowing in the veins, or like the murmur of an ancient spell.

The sound echoed in the empty room, matching the rhythm of Zhu Li's breathing.

Finally, when Zhu Li pinched his fingers and waved, the blood cell solidified instantly, and the blood that had been compressed to the extreme turned into a scarlet pill.

This pill is only the size of a thumb, but its surface is as smooth as a mirror, emitting a strange and charming luster.

Zhu Li stretched out his hand, and the scarlet pill gently fell into his palm, warm and heavy.

"not enough"

command center.

The atmosphere was extremely depressing.

All I could hear was the clacking sound of the keyboard.

An urgent message broke the silence like a bolt of lightning.

"Lost contact. Team Six has completely lost contact." The communications officer's voice was slightly distorted due to suppressed emotions.

General Miyamoto's heart suddenly tightened, his brows knitted, and he asked in disbelief: "All members of Team Six have lost contact?"

This group was one of their most elite troops, and each member was an elite who had been strictly selected and trained. But now, suddenly there was no news from them.

Then, a response came from the communicator. The voice came through the radio noise with a tremor: "Only a dozen minutes of video were sent back."

This is terrifying news.

Armed personnel wear recorders when performing missions to ensure that every mission detail can be captured and reviewed.

Good news, there is video.

Bad news, only video footage.

These videos may be their only clue.

General Miyamoto felt a chill running down his spine. He took a deep breath and ordered, "Play."

As the video played, General Miyamoto saw a scene that shocked him.

In the picture, hundreds of armed members seemed to be under attack by an invisible enemy, their flesh and blood were being pulled away by some invisible force, and they had not even had time to approach the coffin of King Zhao.

These people used to be his pride, but now they have become a scene of horror.

General Miyamoto's heart sank to the bottom, anger and fear burst out in his voice: "These damn guys, what kind of monster did they bring back to Japan!!!"

The development of the situation had far exceeded his understanding, and panic began to spread at the scene.

Faced with such an extraordinary enemy, General Miyamoto realized that this was no longer a situation he could control.

Mission, what a bullshit mission. Is the higher-ups looking for someone to take the blame?
Miyamoto was filled with fear.

the company.

meeting room.

Board of Directors.

Rows of high-backed leather chairs surround a heavy oak conference table, and an antique clock on the wall slowly tells the time.

The directors sat in a circle, each with a document in front of them, but everyone's eyes were drawn to the large screen in the center of the conference room.

The series of scenes shown on the screen made the directors present silent.

The horrific fate of the armed men in the video moved even these corporate elites who are usually known for their calm and rationality.

Where is King Zhao?
No one saw it, but all the Japanese armed personnel at the scene were killed.

Bi Youlong frowned, and his voice broke the silence: "Where did this video come from?"

Zhao Fangxu replied expressionlessly: "This was copied by Erzhuang from the Japanese government."

"It's really scary."

Huang Boren suddenly stopped talking.

He was the only one in the online meeting, on a tablet.

His background was a sky full of blood, and no one knew where he had fallen into. He filmed the scene for the directors.

At this time, a director asked a question: "Is it true that King Zhao has become an immortal?"

The directors were silent again.

The concept of "becoming an immortal" was so absurd that they didn't know how to respond.

Since we are all strangers, we are even more confused about these two words.

The ignorant are fearless; only when you know the truth will you realize that this is like a mayfly looking at the sky.

Zhao Fangxu replied after a long while: "I don't know."

He has always been shrewd and decisive, but at this moment, he was confused and didn't know what to do.

Huang Boren saw it clearly and said with a smile: "Let the Japanese government worry about this matter, and we just need to play the good cop."

Zhao Fangxu said in a deep voice: "This is the only way!"

"But I'm afraid that if things get out of hand, given the temper of the Japanese government, the United States might intervene." Bi Youlong touched his chin and said softly.

Yes, why did you forget this one?

Meiyier, Japan.

Beautiful dog, kimchi.

Japan.

Unknown construction site.

The temporary workers gathered around Wang Zhenqiu and watched the video on their mobile phones.

"Oh my God, King Zhao is so cruel!"

Clarinet was a tough guy, and his face was twitching at this moment.

Xiao Zizai's eyes lit up like light bulbs: "Could it be that King Zhao is also a patient?"

"It's terrible, Japan is really terrible!" Wang Zhenqiu raised his hands high and shouted with glee.

Zhang Chulan looked at the screen and gradually came back to his senses: "It seems that the armed forces are not omnipotent. Now Japan wants to deal with King Zhao? I can only hope that you Japanese really have Ultraman."

(End of this chapter)