Extreme germ phobia

Chapter 70 Going deeper
It took only about ten minutes to go from downstairs to upstairs and then from upstairs to downstairs, but what Ou Yang saw was a completely different scene.

The hall is full of bullet holes left by Browning, mottled walls, broken handrails, and perforated stairs, all of which demonstrate the power of large-caliber machine guns.

Before he even walked out of the door, a very strange smell filled his nostrils. It was fresh but mixed with an indescribable fishy stench and the lingering smell of gunpowder. It choked him and made him cough repeatedly. It took him a while to barely adapt.

Outside the door, the ground was littered with the shattered bodies of the infected.

Their blood color is very light and looks very strange, with strands of white mycelium mixed in their flesh and blood.

This is a phenomenon that was not mentioned in the doctoral research.

A little further away, there were more than a dozen bodies lying there that had been bitten by zombies. They were all covered in blood and flesh, which was unbearable to look at.

Ou Yang didn't sympathize with them at all, he just hated that they died so easily.

A man in a gas mask came up, and judging by his rank he seemed to be a lieutenant.

He looked at Ou Yang and asked in surprise, "Asian?"

"Yes, Chinese," said Ou Yang.

Americans say that racial discrimination is not allowed, but deep down they are more discriminatory than anyone else. It is an open secret that white people look down on black people, and black people look down on other people of color.

"That's impressive," the lieutenant said, unabashedly expressing his surprise. He extended his right hand and said, "Meet me, my name is Garrison."

"Ouyang, you can call me Yang."

The two hands were clasped together and then quickly separated.

Garrison asked curiously, "Are you a soldier?"

"I'm not." Ou Yang said, "Why do you ask?"

Garrison's eyes swept across the battlefield. "It's hard to imagine that an ordinary person without military training could achieve this."

Ou Yang blinked, not sure how to answer.

Shouldn't we be more modest as is the Chinese custom and say it's no big deal?

It seems a bit Versailles.

According to Lao Mi's habit, he said it was no big deal and then expressed his gratitude?
I really can't bear to lose face!

My thoughts raced, and I finally found something that fit the situation: "To be honest, I was surprised too."

Garrison laughed. "Come on, stop standing here."

Ou Yang was a little surprised and shook his P90: "Don't you need to surrender your gun?"

The situation is stronger than people, and he has already prepared himself mentally.

"No need," the lieutenant said. "In times of emergency, everyone has the need and right to defend themselves."

Ou Yang felt even more puzzled. He, a foreigner, had a conflict with a group of Americans, but the National Guard chose to believe him without even asking any questions. This seemed magical no matter how he thought about it.

But he wasn't stupid enough to bring it up.

Ou Yang was startled when he suddenly saw a white cross with a black border and a red background on the coat of a corpse, with a drop of blood drawn in the middle.

"What's wrong?" Matt asked.

Ou Yang pointed at the corpse and said, "I think I've seen this mark somewhere before."

"Oh, that's the Ku Klux Klan symbol," Garrison said.

"The Ku Klux Klan?" Ou Yang felt uneasy. "Isn't it the Blood Alliance? Matt, you owe me an explanation!"

No wonder these people kept staring at him, it turned out they had nothing to do with the Blood Alliance at all.

"Sorry, I made a mistake." Matt immediately admitted his mistake and did not forget to make amends. "The first wave was indeed the Blood Alliance, and I thought the following ones were."

Ou Yang really wanted to beat him up. As they were talking, they came near the convoy, and Matt consciously walked to the back.

There was a minibus full of Lao Mi.

Garrison took out something that looked like a breathalyzer and held it to Ouyang's lips: "Blow into it."

"What is it?" Ou Yang asked.

"It's a new product that's just been invented, for testing spores."

Obviously, although Lao Mi did not develop a solution to treat the infection, he did not gain nothing.

With some doubt, Ou Yang blew hard, and three green lights immediately lit up.

"Great!" Garrison excitedly pulled Ouyang into the car and sat next to him.

Ou Yang felt uncomfortable. Why was this guy so enthusiastic? Could he have some special inclination?
The car door closed, isolating the inside and outside, and the onboard purification device started. Not long after, the red light turned green.

Garrison immediately took off his mask: "I'm dying of suffocation. I really envy those of you who are immune."

Ou Yang's heart skipped a beat: "Immune? You're talking about me?"

"Who else could it be?" Garrison said, replacing the filter canister on his mask. "He doesn't even have a mask. He's been wandering around the epidemic area for over half a month and hasn't been infected. If that's not immunity, what is it?"

Ou Yang was a little confused and spoke cautiously: "Are there many people who are immune?"

"Not much, but not a lot either," Garrison said. "About 10 percent."

"So many?" Ou Yang couldn't believe it was true.

When we left the airport, didn't they say there were only 12 Brown Bears in the entire city? Including him, there were only 13.

"A lot? How much is 10 percent?" Garrison asked.

Ou Yang quickly explained: "What I meant is, I thought there were very few people who were immune."

He really wanted to know how many people with special immunity there were like him.

"You are lucky, really lucky!" Garrison was extremely envious.

As the convoy moved along the highway, Ou Yang saw a large pothole on the road ahead, with a familiar car lying face up in the pot.

That's Matt's car.

Garrison suddenly lowered his voice: "Yang, you Orientals all know Kung Fu, right?"

"Ah?" Ou Yang never expected that there would be such a turn of events.

No wonder this guy is so enthusiastic, it turns out he is waiting here!
Garrison thought he hadn't made himself clear: "Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, you don't know them, do you?"

Ou Yang couldn't help but sigh. Is this the stereotype that Lao Mi has of Chinese people?

He hesitated for a moment and chose the answer that would be most beneficial to him: "I only know a little bit..."

Before he finished speaking, an overpass came into view, with a row of infected bodies hanging on the side of the bridge.

The sunny side has been dehydrated and shriveled by the scorching sun, but the places where the sun cannot reach are covered with colorful mushrooms.

A very classic picture, very solid.

But in the movies, the people hanging are either pirates or zombies. What's the point of hanging zombies on the bridge? To deter other infected people?
Don't be ridiculous. The infected people who have developed into the zombie stage have long lost all their sanity and only have a little bit of instinct left. How could they be afraid of this?
Garrison had long been accustomed to this. He turned a blind eye to the corpse hanging on the bridge and excitedly patted Ou Yang's shoulder: "Teach me, teach me... Is that not possible? Do I have to become your disciple and offer you tea?"

Not only Garrison, but everyone else looked over as well, all of them looking very interested.

Ou Yang smiled bitterly and explained seriously, "Garrison, not every Oriental person knows Kung Fu. I only know a little bit. Do you understand? I'm not qualified to teach Kung Fu!"

(End of this chapter)