Right beside the sofa, less than a foot away from him.
An elderly zombie has revived and is crouched on all fours in a position that defies human ergonomics.
The withered and shriveled limbs are twisted, with joints supporting in reverse at odd angles, resembling an old dog, grotesquely altered by a cruel experiment, silently and stubbornly crawling in the shadows at his feet.
On its back, it carries a corpse that has already started to stiffen.
With the subtle rise and fall of the zombie elder's breath (if it even needs to breathe), it sways unnaturally left and right, the balance clearly unstable.
Yet it sticks relentlessly like a tumbler, no matter how it wobbles, clinging to the "dog back" and simply won't fall off.
Now, how can Ma Bin calmly take a call from Li Shang in such a scene, with one man, one living corpse, and one dead corpse?
After all, Li Shang would definitely ask him where he is right now. How should he answer?
Of course, Ma Bin is not without flexibility.
