I sell Coke in the doomsday

On the 30th day after escaping from the Corpse God Cult, I walked into the empty supermarket as usual and carefully selected today's dinner in front of the shelves.

I picked up a can of fish from the shelf and checked the date carefully.

In the dim supermarket, I was the only one who could make a sound. My footsteps echoed in the huge supermarket, as if my breathing was also amplified and clearly audible.

I looked at the can in my hand, my eyes flickered, and the can slipped from my hand and fell to the ground. I should have bent down to pick it up, but I raised my leg and kicked the shelf hard in annoyance.

Plop! The shelf fell backwards after being kicked by me, pressing down on the shelf behind it, and then it fell backwards one after another like dominoes.

In the silent supermarket, dust filled the air, and a strange smell of decay rushed into my nose. I gasped for breath, looking at the mess in front of me, my facial muscles twitching unnaturally.

The recovery and overlap of a large number of memories, and the dislocation in time and place, formed a strange sense of detachment, tearing my consciousness away from my body.

I seemed to be in a long dream, struggling, calling for help, and finally drowning.

In this state, I sometimes forget where I am.

Am I the me of now, or the me of reincarnation memory, or is this a scene that has already happened?

Such questions often echo in my mind when I wake up.

The large amount of memories is eating away at my sanity. If I continue like this, I might be trapped in the memories and become a complete madman.

I punched myself hard on the head, forced myself to calm down, then squatted down and picked up a bag of chocolates from the collapsed shelf.

Dust was everywhere. I closed my eyes slightly and let out a long breath.

I can't go on like this, I need to artificially create some memories of the present to keep me sane and avoid sinking into endless recollections.

I tore open the chocolate wrapper and threw a chocolate ball into my mouth. The sweetness filled my mind and the added sugar made my brain clear.

I've been in this city long enough, it's time to do something.

Thinking of this, I carefully put away the bag of chocolate in my hand, turned around and left the supermarket.

I returned to the community where I lived, but instead of going back to my room, I went straight to the basement.

I turned on the light in the dim basement, and under the cold light, a wide variety of supplies appeared before me.

It’s not like I did nothing during this time.

I found a generator to supply myself with electricity, and also collected a lot of supplies, including instant noodles, medicines, canned food that had not expired, and guns.

These things are not all prepared for me, but for the Corpse God Cult.

I picked up some supplies and moved them out of the basement. Without my enhanced body, this kind of physical work was too slow.

Before the sun set, I moved most of the supplies I had looted into the pickup truck, filling the trunk to the brim.

I don’t know what kind of obsession I had, but when I came to the city, I found a shabby pickup truck. There are many luxury cars in the city, but I just like some shabby pickup trucks.

I really don’t know what’s wrong with my brain.

After filling the bed of the pickup truck, I returned to my room, sat in front of the mirror, looked at my face, took out a wig, and put it on my head.

I took out another pair of scissors, looked at myself in the mirror, and cut off the too long wig little by little, finally making an unsuccessful Korean hairstyle.

Then, I took out the fake beard I had found and stuck it around my mouth, successfully giving myself a full beard.

I looked in the mirror and saw myself looking like a scavenger, still not quite satisfied, so I took out a bunch of cosmetics, tried them on my arms first, and finally chose one that could darken my skin tone.

Maybe it looks a little funny, but as a grown man, I looked in front of the mirror very seriously and painted my face and neck light black.

I have to be grateful that the mature makeup technology of that time really had the ability to change a person's face.

Half an hour later, the skin color of my face turned completely light black, and this skin color did not look weird but very natural.

I took out an eyebrow pencil and outlined my eyebrows little by little, trying to make my eyebrows thicker and darker.

Finally, I looked at myself in the mirror, squinted slightly, and put on a pair of glasses with cracked lenses. In this way, even I felt unfamiliar with myself in the mirror.

I successfully transformed into a strange man with dark skin, thick eyebrows, a beard, glasses, and a tendency to squint.

The people of the Corpse God Cult won't be able to recognize me. I believe that they have never taken a close look at me, their stored food whose flesh and blood they cut, so they don't know what I look like.

But to be on the safe side, I still prepared a mask for myself. The brand new disposable masks were too strange, so I tried hard to find a cloth mask.

Unfortunately, I only found two, one is pink and the other is also pink.

Finally, I found the cloth mask I bought that year in my house. It was black, but with a tooth pattern on it.

To be precise, when I was still a otaku, I bought a mask with the teeth of the Tokyo Ghoul protagonist's mask, and it was a fluorescent one.

This is a historical problem left over from middle school.

I was quite disgusted by this and never thought that one day I would pay the price for my immature behavior back then.

At this point, I have prepared all my equipment and washed off the makeup on my face. Today I will just see the results, and tomorrow I will set off.

After washing off my makeup, I began to count the guns and ammunition I had collected.

During these days, I went to many places, so the harvest was pretty good.

The current result is that I have three pistols and a hundred bullets, which is enough. I don’t want to kill all the people in the Corpse God Cult. Meaningless killing is just a waste of time.

I want the entire Corpse God Cult to obey my orders.

Of course, if the plan fails, I can only attract a tide of zombies and burn the entire stronghold to the ground.

When this thought flashed through my mind, I couldn't help but be stunned for a moment.

Do I seem to like killing more than before?

Is this... a good thing?

I didn't continue to think about this question. After throwing down the gun in my hand, I lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

As usual, I dreamed of Tongtong again.

In my dream, I was standing on a blue seashore, barefoot on the beach. The cool sea water rolled to my feet with the waves, leaving many bright shells.

Tongtong was in the distance, wearing the blue dress I gave her, with her bare white feet, running towards me on the soft sand.

Ah, what a beautiful dream.

Chapter 6 My Revenge (Part 2)

Beautiful dreams are always short, but they leave people with endless aftertaste.

The next day, it was dawn.

I sat in front of the mirror and put on a strange makeup according to the method I used yesterday, but my heart was drifting away unknowingly.

It seems that I have never done anything for Tongtong, not even a simple combing of her hair, nor holding an umbrella for her when it rained, nor building a snowman or having a snowball fight with her.

In the one hundred and seven reincarnations, Tongtong and I spent a long hundred years together, and we also fought each other for a full one hundred and seven times.

I lost one hundred and seven times, but if I won even once, Tongtong would die and there would be no chance to come back.

So what about this time? This time is the one where I have the greatest chance of winning. After I win this bet, am I going to just watch Tongtong die in my arms?

What is the meaning of such an ending? What are the meanings of Tongtong’s one hundred and seven reincarnations?

Bang! With a dull thud, my fist slammed heavily onto the mirror in front of me, and countless cracks spread along my fist.

Blood dripped and dyed the dressing table red. The cracks on the mirror cut my image in the mirror into pieces. I gritted my teeth and saw a ferocious self in the mirror with gnashing teeth.

My Lord God, you really deserve to die.

After a long time, I retracted my fist, frowned, and turned away.

I forced myself to put the matter behind me, and according to my original plan, I disguised myself, got in the shabby pickup truck, and drove to the Corpse God Cult's base.

Sitting in the car, watching the surrounding scenery flash by, I finally calmed down. The wound on my fist had healed, but there was still an itch, as if countless ants were crawling on my hand.

I used to be a person who was very afraid of pain, but now I seem to be addicted to the feeling of pain.

I think I'm really going completely crazy.

However, Tongtong, whom I once regarded as a panacea, is no longer by my side. I can only let this madness spread along my body.

After a long time, the stronghold of the Corpse God Cult appeared in my sight. The stronghold was surrounded by mountains and trees and was close to a water source. Logically speaking, this was already an excellent stronghold location.

When I drove my pickup truck to the gate of the Corpse God Cult, I saw the repaired gate. It looked vulnerable and could be smashed to pieces with just one step on the accelerator.

Perhaps because of the turmoil caused by my escape, a watchtower was built next to the gate during this month, and it was guarded by sentries.

I said that in the first year of the apocalypse, humans were still very afraid of the zombie virus and had never thought about going out to search for supplies, and naturally they would not think that anyone would come to the base to cause trouble.

The Corpse God Cult is now just an ordinary stronghold. Even the sentinels on it are holding homemade bows and arrows. It can be seen that this stronghold has not yet received firearms.

No wonder, when I escaped that day, the four men guarding the keys chose to fight instead of pulling out guns.

"who?"

The guard on the watchtower raised his bow and arrow and shouted loudly. I wonder if he really thought that the homemade bow and arrow could cause damage to the car.

I politely walked out of the car, raised my hands, and shouted loudly while wearing my second-year mask.

"Friend, don't do it."

"I'm here to do business."

The sentry obviously didn't react and looked at me with confusion. I had no choice but to turn around and walk towards the carriage, and under the sentry's gaze, I tore off the cloth covering it.

The various supplies stored in the carriage frightened the sentry, who stood there in a daze for a moment, not knowing what to do.

I calmly pulled a gap in my mask, lit a cigarette for myself, and shouted at the sentry while puffing out smoke.

"Brother, call out the person in charge here."

"Just say someone wants to negotiate a big deal with them."

The sentry finally reacted and quickly climbed down the watchtower and disappeared. I slowly smoked the cigarette in my hand, but my heart became nervous. I unconsciously put my hand into my mouth and grasped the pistol.

There was no news after the sentry left. I waited outside for a long time. When I became impatient, the gate of the stronghold slowly opened.

I saw a middle-aged man with an arrogant look, wearing a white robe. Behind him was a large group of people, all of whom were bowing their heads, just like the emperor’s tour in a TV drama.

Childish and contrived.

The middle-aged man is the leader of the Corpse God Cult. I don’t know his name because I never wanted to remember his name. What I care more about is the young man who follows behind him with a fawning look on his face.

The young man had a handsome face and wore a pair of scratched glasses, which gave me an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

After a moment, I realized that this person was the beast named Sun He, the madman who used my flesh for experiments in the delusion of gaining immortality.

Ten years later, he will kill the current leader and become a dignified middle-aged man. Now he is just a small follower following behind the leader.

Surrounded by the crowd, the leader slowly came to my side with an arrogant look. But when his eyes fell on the supplies in the carriage, he couldn't help twitching his eyes.

His little change amused me and I couldn't help laughing out loud.

"puff."

I quickly covered my mouth, as if trying to make amends, and bent down properly.

"Hello."

The leader was extremely dissatisfied with my sneer just now, but looking at the truck of supplies behind me, he was unwilling to turn around and leave. He tried to maintain his solemn appearance and asked lightly.

"I heard that you want to do business with us."

"Who are you and what kind of business do you want to start?"

I straightened my back, smiled, and in full view of everyone, I took out a bottle of Coke from the car, opened it, took a sip in front of everyone's envious eyes, and then answered with a smile.

"I am from the Bronze Tree Stronghold. My boss has an immature idea."

"He believes that we are all the remaining human beings and we should unite."

"The various strongholds are exchanging what they have and what they need. To use an ancient term, our boss wants to make friends with your stronghold."

The leader frowned slightly, but did not doubt what I said. Instead, he asked me.

"Barter? What do you want?"

I put away my smile and replied calmly.

"We want whatever you have."

"When doing business for the first time, you should suffer some losses in order to please the customers."

Hearing this, the leader finally relaxed his brows, smiled at me, and spoke while extending his hand.

"We in the Corpse God Cult are also happy to make a friend."