Descending upon the terrifying heavens as a superman

Chapter 71/72 The End of Dharma Era, Zombies Reborn in Seven Days

"Zombie Rebirth in Seven Days —"

Zhang Yue's expression was somewhat solemn. Zombies, or zombies that regenerate in seven days.

It tells a story set in the Dharma-ending Age.

It tells the story of Xiao Hao, a once very popular actor, whose career plummeted due to the decline of the film industry. Coupled with his wife and children being in a car accident, he completely lost his purpose in life in middle age.

Then he returned to a public housing building where he used to live and hanged himself.

By this time, it was already the end of the Dharma era, and the original descendants of Maoshan had almost all died out.

They can no longer summon the Maoshan masters to exorcise demons and monsters when faced with major disasters, just like before.

Ayou, a half-baked Taoist priest, is a descendant of the Maoshan lineage. His father took on a mission when he was a child and never returned.

At a young age, he taught himself to be a half-baked Taoist priest by relying on the Maoshan scriptures left by his father.

Finally, together with Xiao Hao, they each took one of the three, and killed a zombie born in the Dharma-ending Age.

In terms of difficulty, Zhang Yue felt that the zombies born in this Dharma-ending Age should not be as strong as Old Master Ren, because Old Master Ren had absorbed the earth's energy for 20 years in a feng shui treasure land and had also sucked the blood of his closest relatives.

This zombie, aside from using crow blood to suck the blood of a child, wasn't particularly strong.

The reason why the movie feels so hopeless is because it is the end of the Dharma era. Xiao Hao is an ordinary person, and You Shu is a half-baked Maoshan Taoist who taught himself by reading scriptures.

Even an ordinary person like Ah Feng could rush over and fight it a few times—well, he even chopped off a large chunk of its flesh with his weapon.

He was even taken down by Xiao Hao with a Molotov cocktail.

If the twins hadn't possessed it, none of this would have happened.

What made Zhang Yue wary was a wicked cultivator named Ajiu. The entire plot was created by him in order to prolong his life using corpse energy and evil spirits.

Because he had terminal lung cancer, Ah Jiu borrowed yin energy and luck; the cigarettes he smoked were ash from raising ghost children. Even Uncle Dong, who became a zombie, was someone he personally killed.

Not to mention, in order to lure out the two twins, Li Gui, A Jiu strangled Xiao Hao with a rope until he suffocated, bringing him to the brink of death.

Ruthless and cruel

Humans are often more dangerous than monsters.

Although Ah Jiu eventually got his comeuppance, the fully formed zombie Uncle Dong was even more powerful than he had imagined, and the backlash killed him as well.

"The only problem is—I have to wait until the zombie is fully formed before I can make a move."

Once Zhang Yue made up his mind, he began preparations. With three days left before the mission, what troubled him was that he needed to procure some more money from that era.

Perhaps it's modern people's obsession with firearms; although Zhang Yue learned Maoshan Taoist arts and Zhenxian Temple magic, he always felt somewhat uneasy without carrying a few guns.

After undergoing a full medical check-up at the hospital and receiving intravenous drips for three days to remove most of the heavy metals from his body, Zhang Yue, carrying a backpack and a suitcase [containing firearms], departed for the mission world in a flash of white light.

The streets and alleys are brightly lit at night, with towering buildings and neon lights in Central. Cars and people throng the streets, restaurants are lively all night, and dance halls are filled with shimmering lights.

"To find the dragon and divide the gold, look at the winding mountains; each winding mountain is a barrier—" Zhang Yue muttered to himself as he held the compass and chopped away.

After studying the "Dragon Seeking Technique" for a month, Zhang Yue's skills were far inferior to Hu Bayi's, but he could still barely calculate his destination.

"Hey handsome, have you decided where you want to go yet?" the taxi driver asked impatiently.

"What's the rush? We don't need your money—" Zhang Yue casually pulled out two hundred-yuan bills from his pocket and tossed them to the other person. "Drive east, just like I said—"

This is the banknote Zhang Yue exchanged for a small yellow croaker after arriving here.

No matter the world, wherever there are people, gold will always be the currency.

Before long, the taxi brought Zhang Yue to a public rental housing complex.

"We're here, driver, could you please stop the car for a moment?"

After the car came to a stop, Zhang Yue paid the fare. The taxi driver casually said to Zhang Yue, "Handsome, are you here to find your relatives?"

Zhang Yue nodded, "Yes."

The taxi driver said, "Oh, be careful, there are a lot of bad people around here."

Zhang Yue got out of the car and went to the trunk. "Thank you for reminding me, sir. Could you please open the trunk for my luggage?"

The driver, who was bald, said meaningfully to Zhang Yue after hearing her words, "Remember what I just told you."

Huh? Before Zhang Yue could react, the bald driver burst into laughter, stepped on the gas, and sped away.

"Damn it!" Zhang Yue understood perfectly well that he had encountered an unlicensed taxi driver who wanted to steal his luggage. He had just put the heavy luggage into the trunk when the driver spotted him.

The other person assumed that his suitcase was heavy and valuable, so they had malicious intentions.

But the bald man misjudged the situation; his suitcase didn't contain anything valuable at all, but rather firearms.

However, he didn't take an ordinary person seriously, nor did he have any precautions.

At this point, even if he used illusion magic, it was too late. Zhang Yue could only chase after him while shouting, "Stop—"

The car began to accelerate, and as it turned a corner, there was another man wearing sunglasses and carrying a suitcase on the roadside. The bald driver subconsciously slowed down.

Suddenly—

The man, like a cheetah, abruptly dropped his luggage and dashed forward in a few quick steps. Before the driver could react, he moved with incredible agility, leaping into the passenger seat.

Zhang Yue was stunned for a moment. This scene—why did it seem like something she had seen in a movie?

Then, figures moved inside, and the car swayed as if it were drunk. When it came to a sudden stop and Zhang Yue arrived, he saw that the taxi door had been opened, and the bald driver had been beaten black and blue.

The man grabbed her by the neck forcefully and dragged her out of the car like a small dog.

The man said coldly to Zhang Yue, "I saw what happened just now. Check if your things are still there."

"Thank you." Zhang Yue opened the trunk and took out her suitcase.

The man was still punching the bald driver, yelling, "Hmph! Behave yourself—"

"Brother, sir, I was wrong, please let me go—"

The bald man wailed and begged for mercy.

The man said coldly, "This isn't the first time you've done this. Call the police."

"Oh, forget it." Zhang Yue hurriedly stopped him. He had a whole box of guns; calling the police would only make things more complicated.

"I didn't lose anything, and you beat him up, so consider it a lesson."

"Hmph, consider yourself lucky. Now get lost—" The man kicked the bald man, telling him to get lost.

Zhang Yue said, "My name is Zhang Yue. How should I address you, brother? Thank you for what you did earlier."

"You're welcome." The man waved his hand. "Just call me Xiao Hao."

Actually, he didn't need an introduction; Zhang Yue could guess who he was just by his facial features, even though he was wearing sunglasses.

"Thank you so much for what you did earlier. Well then, it's almost lunchtime, so I'll treat you to a meal."

"No need, it's nothing—" Xiao Hao waved his hand and was about to leave.

But Zhang Yue knew that he was a cold-on-the-outside-but-warm-on-the-inside person in the movie, so she didn't mind and continued to enthusiastically invite him to dinner.

Before long, unable to resist Zhang Yue's persistence, the two went to eat at a food stall downstairs from the public housing complex.

"Sticky rice fried rice, their signature dish. I've never had this before. Boss, give me a plate!"

Chapter 72: "Signature kale, stir-fried pork ribs, a plate of stir-fried shrimp, and two bowls of glutinous rice."

"Two more beers, please."

"Oh, and a plate of braised peanuts as a snack with drinks, please."

"Alright, gentlemen, please wait a moment."

Zhang Yue glanced at the chef, whose appearance was both cunning and deceitful, bearing a striking resemblance to Ah Wei, the security captain she had encountered in Mr. Zombie.

After glancing at the boss, hmm—Master Four Eyes—

Perhaps he is a descendant of Master Simu, in any case he looks very similar.

Before long, the dishes were served one after another, and the freshly stir-fried dishes gave off an enticing aroma.

The four-eyed Taoist priest with glasses served the sticky rice to Zhang Yue and Xiao Hao, and said to them with a smile, "It's quite unusual today, with two guests arriving at once."

Zhang Yue asked, "Boss, do you have very few customers here? How do you manage to make a living?"

Perhaps because there was no one else around, the owner, "Master Four Eyes," simply took three bottles of beer, placed them on the table, and started chatting with them.

"As you can see here, it's a public rental building. The customers coming and going are all neighbors and old acquaintances. They eat the same things every day. Business isn't great, but they can barely make a living."

"Don't call me boss anymore, I'm a full twelve years older than you. Just call me Brother You. Are you two planning to rent a place here?"

Perhaps out of boredom, or perhaps for something else, Uncle You was quite enthusiastic.

"Yes, that's right." Xiao Hao nodded, but his expression remained somewhat indifferent, or perhaps he had already planned to commit suicide, which was why he appeared indifferent.

"Oh, renting a place? You'll have to ask Uncle Yan for that. You guys enjoy your meal, I'll call Uncle Yan for you later."

Zhang Yue took a bite of the glutinous rice and said, "Brother You, your glutinous rice flour is amazing! The fried rice looks, smells, and tastes delicious. This is the first time I've ever seen glutinous rice used to make fried rice."

Uncle You chuckled self-deprecatingly, "What good is it if the fried rice is delicious?"

Perhaps because his words sounded a bit odd, Xiao Hao retorted, "You can make glutinous rice taste this good, what more do you want?"

"You can even cook it for the dead—" Zhang Yue's sudden remark startled Xiao Hao. Zhang Yue pointed to the empty table behind them, on which were neatly arranged bowls of glutinous rice.

"Those are for the dead. Besides feeding the dead, glutinous rice can also cure zombies."

Upon hearing this, Ayou's body trembled slightly, and he looked at Zhang Yue in surprise, "You also know that glutinous rice can cure zombies?"

"The lineage of Taoist priests started in my great-grandfather's generation."

"They always carry glutinous rice with them when they go out."

"In the past, every Taoist priest had a familiar rice shop where they could buy rice cheaply and guarantee it wouldn't be adulterated."

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Back then, Taoist priests always carried glutinous rice with them, and the relationship between priests and rice shops was passed down from generation to generation. By my generation, all the zombies were gone, and nobody wanted to hire a Taoist priest anymore.

"Without zombies to catch, I guess I'll have to switch to frying sticky rice —"

Zhang Yue blurted out instinctively, "Brother You, did you have an ancestor named Master Four Eyes?"

"Four Eyes?" Uncle You paused for a moment, then shook his head. "Who would give themselves such a strange Taoist name? I've never heard of it."

As soon as he said this, Zhang Yue realized that he might have made a mistake. The Taoist Master Four Eyes should have another name. It was just that he wore glasses, so others habitually called him the Taoist Master Four Eyes.

The Taoist name of a Taoist priest is similar to the Buddhist name of a Buddhist monk.

They should be called Danyangzi, Xuanyangzi, or Changqingzi; the name "Simu" sounds more like a nickname.

Uncle You looked puzzled. "Why are you asking that?"

"It's nothing." Zhang Yue couldn't very well tell him that he knew a Taoist priest named Four Eyes who might be his ancestor in another world.

Only Xiao Hao kept staring blankly at the empty bowls of sticky rice, lost in thought, seemingly preoccupied with something.

Not long after, a white-haired, somewhat overweight old man came over with a smile and led them to see the house.

"You'll be staying in 2442, and I'll be staying in 2441. You're right across from each other. Here are your keys. I'll show you around."

Let's take a look at the house.

Uncle Yan is a good person and a good talker.

"Have you bought any bedding? If not, you can get some from me, as long as you don't mind."

Zhang Yue said, "We haven't bought it yet. If you'd like to give it to us, we'd be very grateful."

"Oh, you're welcome." Uncle Yan waved his hand and said with a smile, "Those were left behind by the previous tenants. We older folks are used to being poor and frugal, and we can't bear to waste things, so I took them to wash and put them away."

"Wait a minute, I'll go get you some incense. Oh dear, what a forgetful thing I am, I forgot to stick the incense in first—"

Just as Uncle Yan reached the door, he suddenly remembered something, immediately lit the incense he had brought, and muttered a few words like "Don't blame me" in a mysterious voice.

Then he lit incense in Zhang Yue's and Xiao Hao's rooms before leaving.

Zhang Yue glanced at the lingering yin energy in Xiao Hao's room 2442 and knew that the other party must have been affected and had moved into the room of the twin, eerie sisters.

But these two sisters, though they turned into fierce monsters after their deaths, seemed to follow some kind of rule.

People who don't commit suicide by hanging themselves can't see them, won't be possessed by them, and won't harm anyone. That's why Uncle You hasn't dealt with them in recent years.

After putting his luggage away, Zhang Yue sat cross-legged and began flipping through the booklet, intending to begin practicing the [Five Thunder Subduing Demons Spell] —

That's right, the Five Thunder Subduing Demons Spell.

Before arriving, as if sensing something, the ancestral tablet of the Maoshan Sect actually instilled a message into Zhang Yue's mind.

The message didn't say much, just some basic information about how to get started with lightning magic.

Zhang Yue stroked his chin. Could it be that the founder of the Maoshan Sect couldn't bear to see his last lineage in the human world disappear, so he rewarded him by giving him a reward after discovering that he had come to this world where zombies are reborn in seven days?

It's also possible, since in the end, Uncle You sacrificed one of his hands because he wasn't strong enough to control the compass of the Maoshan formation.

If no one had called an ambulance, the amount of bleeding from the severed arm might have been fatal.

It's not that Uncle You is bad at it; from birth to old age, he has never encountered a single zombie and has never had any real combat experience with zombies.

You should know that in the Maoshan era, all kinds of zombies, such as royal zombies and musical zombies, either survived the tribulation of lightning or were not afraid of the sun or Maoshan Taoist magic. So many troublesome zombies could be eliminated.

Yes, that should be it. That's why I specially gave myself a basic introduction to lightning magic before I came.

"Hehe————" Zhang Yue sat cross-legged, smeared a trace of insect-borne fungus on the tip of his nose, swallowed a longevity pill, and began to contemplate the Wind and Thunder Hell.

There's no way around it. If I were to cultivate step by step, I'd be lucky to even get a basic grasp of thunder magic in three to five years.

So be it—let him practice unorthodox cultivation; who can resist a shortcut?