The black motorcycle sped along the road.
The zombies drifting on the road sluggishly moved away, and after the motorcycle passed, the zombies resumed their aimless wandering.
Zhang Yiming's fingers tightly gripped the motorcycle's handlebars, exerting great restraint over himself.
Leave here, do not let go.
This filthy body of his was not worthy of that light.
A violent aura emanated from Zhang Yiming, his entire being steeped in a state of fury and madness, on the brink of collapse.
Destruction.
The thoughts in his mind prompted him to destroy everything.
This was the instinct that belonged to the zombie group.
Bloodthirsty, violent, frenzied.
A gentle face flashed through his mind, and Zhang Yiming gradually calmed down.
He knew clearly how painful it was to become like this.
Purgatory on earth, nothing more.
He was already in purgatory, so how could he drag her down?
