With a bang, as if striking hard wood, the watermelon knife only made a shallow dent in the intestines.

“Damn it!”

Brian Carter's face was flushed red, his neck completely strangled so he couldn't breathe at all.

“Roar...” The fat man's corpse, which had been lying down, was now slowly getting up. Blood-red eyes, drooling mouth wide open, and ghastly white fangs protruding from his mouth. One of the fat man's arms was hanging by just a bit of skin. One leg was also limping, which made its approach toward Brian Carter slower.

Brian Carter desperately hacked at the intestines with the watermelon knife. Thud, thud, thud—he kept chopping until the fourth strike finally severed the intestines completely. With a few quick moves, he removed the remaining section wrapped around his neck. Brian Carter took a few steps back.

“Bang!” Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him, and his heart skipped a beat. He turned to look.

The heavy iron door was now completely shut, locked tight. Grace Thompson, who had just been there, was nowhere to be seen.

Brian Carter's face instantly turned from red to blue. He glanced at the fat zombie, which was getting closer and roaring. Brian Carter leaned back, his back pressed against the iron door. He turned his head and peered through the gap in the iron bars, confirming that Grace Thompson had completely run off. At that moment, a door slammed shut upstairs.

Brian Carter immediately realized that Grace Thompson had escaped to the sixth floor.

“Damn it! I’ll settle the score with you later! Ungrateful wretch!”

Although Grace Thompson had abandoned him and run away, he no longer had to worry about his magic being exposed. Brian Carter quickly pulled a small fruit knife from his pocket. A low, eerie chant lasted for two seconds, a faint light flashed across the fruit knife, and Brian Carter gently let go, aiming at the fat zombie.

With a hiss, a flash of silver, the fruit knife struck the fat zombie square in the face, boring a transparent hole in its brow, and with remaining force, stabbed deep into the shoe cabinet behind. Half the blade was embedded.

The fat zombie collapsed to the ground with a thud, its body twitching a few times before falling still.

Brian Carter gasped for breath. He walked over and kicked the corpse twice to make sure it was truly dead, then returned to the iron door. Staring at the securely locked door, Brian Carter's face turned bluish.

He was the one who had rescued Grace Thompson from the wardrobe and even promised to help her escape, but at the critical moment, this woman was not only useless but also kicked him when he was down.

Actually, Brian Carter wasn't all that angry. After all, he had only been caught off guard by the fat zombie and wasn't in real danger. Still, he touched his neck, where some disgusting sticky fluid remained—a byproduct from the fat man's intestines.

Luckily, there were no wounds; otherwise, he might have been infected for sure. The most important thing now was to go back and clean himself up. As for that woman who ran off on her own...

A trace of fierceness flashed in Brian Carter's eyes.

A soft chant sounded again, and a blob of pale green slime slammed into the iron door's keyhole. Accompanied by a sizzling corrosive sound, the keyhole was quickly eaten away into a large hole.

Brian Carter gave the door a push, and it swung open.

Taking the stairs three at a time back to the sixth floor, Brian Carter found his own security door tightly locked. It seemed Grace Thompson had escaped into his apartment. He took the key from his waist, unlocked the door, and strode inside. The living room was completely silent. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the aluminum panels fixed to the windows, casting light onto the marble floor.

Brian Carter immediately became alert. Although he didn't think Grace Thompson would be bold enough to ambush him, it was wise to be cautious. This woman seemed extremely afraid of death—who knew what she might do in desperation?

He scanned the living room and saw that only the door to the storage bedroom, where supplies were kept, was tightly shut. The spiked wooden stake he had left by the shoe cabinet was also missing. He instantly understood.

Brian Carter shoved the watermelon knife under the sofa, then went to the storage room and grabbed a wooden stick as thick as his fist. He deliberately made loud, clear footsteps. Holding the stick, he walked to the storage bedroom door.

“I know you’re in there. Come out.” He chuckled twice. This woman thought she’d be safe hiding in the bedroom, not knowing that when Brian Carter renovated the place, he made all the bedroom door locks use the same key for convenience. In other words, one key opened all the bedroom doors.

Brian Carter took the keychain from his waist and found the bedroom key.

“Click...”

The lock opened, and Brian Carter's face turned sinister. He kicked out, slamming the door open with a bang.

The door crashed inward, then banged again as if hitting something and bounced back, which Brian Carter quickly caught with his hand.

Pushing the door open, he saw Grace Thompson clutching the wooden stake, eyes rolled back, fainted atop a pile of medicine boxes.

Chapter Six