The injured wild boar lifted its head and charged straight at Henry Clark's thigh. Henry Clark had no time to dodge; his body tilted and he was knocked over to the side.

A wild boar is a wild boar—its explosive power is incomparable to that of a domestic pig, let alone a human. Fortunately, this boar was small and hadn’t yet grown tusks; otherwise, that hit would definitely have left a gaping, possibly fatal wound on Henry Clark's leg.

Henry Clark had lost the ability to resist, but driven by animal instinct, the wounded boar’s first reaction was to flee for its life, not to kill Henry Clark for revenge before escaping.

The wild boar dashed away, still holding half a spear shaft in its mouth. Looking at the small piece of wire left on the tree, then at the spearhead that had fallen to the ground, Henry Clark, lying there, seriously wondered if he was dreaming.

How did a trap set for a roe deer end up catching a wild boar? And how did the meat he had in hand just run away?

Henry Clark was only frustrated for a moment. He looked at the bloodstains on the ground, thought about where and how hard he had stabbed the boar, and decided he should give chase.

The wild boar would definitely die from blood loss. Even if he didn’t know how long it would take, it was worth pursuing—maybe he’d find the dead boar soon. With this hope, Henry Clark didn’t hesitate any longer. He picked up the fallen spearhead and immediately followed the blood trail.

Climbing over hills and through dense forest, Henry Clark kept a close eye on the bloodstains, tracking his first prey.

He had already gone quite far; the bloodstains were getting fewer and harder to spot. Several times, Henry Clark had to spend a long time to find the trail again, whether it was blood or traces of the boar’s passage. But this also meant the boar didn’t have much blood left.

In other words, the boar was close to death.

Henry Clark was so excited by the chase that he barely felt tired. But just as he passed through a small patch of dense forest and suddenly saw a narrow path ahead, Henry Clark instantly tensed up.

Sure enough, what you fear most always comes. Looking down the path, Henry Clark immediately gripped his half-length spear.

Less than twenty meters away, a wild boar lay on the roadside, but behind the boar stood a person.

He wasn’t afraid of people, but Henry Clark was afraid of people who had turned into zombies.

Henry Clark raised his half-length spear, and the person he was pointing at, upon seeing Henry Clark, immediately raised a kitchen knife.

Raise a knife?

Raising a knife was good—if someone could hold a knife, it meant they definitely weren’t a zombie.

If it wasn’t a zombie, Henry Clark wasn’t afraid. His heart immediately settled, and he was even happy, because he had finally encountered a living person, someone of his own kind he had longed to see.

Looking at the person holding the knife, Henry Clark couldn’t help but laugh. No matter who the other person was, just seeing another living human made Henry Clark genuinely ecstatic.

Why?

Because Henry Clark couldn’t help but wonder if he was the last living human on earth. He knew the odds were low, but he was truly afraid of being the last one.

Now, knowing he wasn’t the last human in the world, of course he was happy. Anyone in the same situation as Henry Clark would be happy—this is human nature.

Secondly, Henry Clark was happy because the person he faced was a woman, and a young girl at that.

A girl who looked very thin and weak, unlikely to pose any danger.

Today really was Henry Clark's lucky day.

Chapter 2: Come With Me

“Who are you? What do you want? Don’t… don’t come any closer, I’ll call for help! Dad, bring the gun, there’s a bad guy here!”

Henry Clark was very happy, but the girl started shouting. Hearing what she said, Henry Clark was startled at first, but then he laughed.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m not a bad person. You don’t need to shout—be careful not to attract zombies.”

Henry Clark lowered his spear, trying to use the gentlest tone and expression to put the girl at ease. At the same time, he slowly walked toward her.

“Don’t come any closer! If you do, my dad will shoot!”

Henry Clark stopped and said calmly, “You don’t need to be nervous, I’m not a bad person. And you don’t need to scare me either. Keep your voice down—what if you attract zombies?”

The girl immediately shut her mouth.

But she didn’t let down her guard. She just lowered her voice, still looking determined as she said, “Stop right there! Are you trying to steal my wild boar? I’m telling you, I found this boar first, don’t even think about taking it!”

Henry Clark took a step forward, pointed at the boar, and said, “Look at the wire on the boar’s neck and the wounds on its body, and the spear in my hand. I hunted this boar and chased it all the way here, so it’s mine.”

The girl couldn’t help but look down at the boar. She had already noticed the wire and the wounds on its neck, so she was at a loss for words at Henry Clark’s explanation.

Henry Clark took the opportunity to move a few steps closer. Now he was only five or six meters from the girl.

The girl looked quite pitiful—her hair hung in messy strands over her shoulders, her face was covered in black soot (who knew if it was on purpose), and worst of all, two streams of clear snot hung under her nose.