"Fuck me! What the hell am I going to do about this?"
His voice soft, Duncan cursed uncontrollably while making an effort to restrain himself from shouting out loud—a feat that proved quite difficult given the situation he found himself in currently.
Right now, Duncan lay prone, his belly flat on the ground as he snuck a peek into the distance while trying to remain hidden.
Just ahead was the entire reason Duncan was in such a sour mood: it was a flock of mindless zombies walking around stiffly and in great number, like a bunch of brainless fans gathered together to attend the concert of their favorite idol.
The sheer number of them was staggering, and from where he was, Duncan could already count over thirty, with many more existing beyond his view.
This was already more than he estimated the number of people that had reportedly gone missing to be, meaning that there were many more victims than previously imagined.
"Just how long has this ghost realm existed?" Duncan wondered to himself.
"Assuming the authorities got their estimates correct, then the only way there could be this many zombies is if the ghost realm has been secretly abducting people for a very long time without anyone noticing. But how can that even be possible?"
"If there were so many people disappearing in the same location, then somebody is bound to have noticed long ago instead of now."
Duncan pondered this question, feeling that it was unlikely.
Unless the ghost realm connected with the main world in multiple locations and constantly shifted between them, there was no way it could've accumulated so many zombies without being discovered much sooner.
Duncan continued to watch the group of zombies closely.
Just then, he noticed one of the zombies that seemed to have wandered away from the rest of the group and was standing alone by itself.
Focusing intently on this zombie, Duncan was surprised by what he discovered.
Each of the zombies wore the last sets of clothing the victims had on before they died.
All the ones Duncan had seen so far had on very modern outfits that were still in relatively good condition... all of them except the zombie Duncan was looking at.
This zombie had on its body a completely torn and worn-out outfit that hung loosely on its body in a severe state of disrepair.
Looking like rags more than anything remotely resembling clothing that poorly covered up its body, the zombie completely lacked all sense of decency and was parading itself openly—not that this was the kind of crowd that would care anyway.
But that was not why Duncan was so focused on this particular zombie; instead, it was because of the type of clothes it was wearing.
Apparently, the power of the ghost realm that perfectly preserved the bodies of the zombies after death didn't work on the clothes they wore, but as difficult as it was to detect—given the distance between them—Duncan still managed to identify the particular style of clothing the zombie wore.
It was a kind of ballroom dress shirt with long and loose pants that needed to be held up by shoulder braces.
Usually worn over the dress shirt, they were a very unique set of clothes that was popular amongst the rich and upper class some seventy, eighty years ago.
This was a style of clothing that had gone out of fashion for decades and was no longer being worn by the current generation.
Duncan was only able to recognize it because he remembered his old man having a single set in his possession, which he had worn during his youth and had still cherished up until the day he died.
They had belonged to his father, who had passed it onto Duncan's father, with the old man wanting to pass it onto Duncan when he was younger as a form of tradition.
Fortunately for Duncan, the outfit had been destroyed in a fire along with all of his old man's collection from back in his youth—save for the locket Duncan currently carried that had miraculously survived the fire, allowing Duncan to inherit it from his old man.
Forcing his thoughts to get back on track, Duncan whispered in thought.
"Unless this zombie was originally a cosplayer, the only reason it should be wearing this outfit is if it had truly owned it a hundred years ago when it had still been in fashion. That would make this zombie about a hundred years old."
Shocked by this conjecture, a terrifying thought entered Duncan's mind.
"Could it be that this ghost realm has existed for more than a hundred years, slowly abducting people from the main world into here and accumulating an army of zombies inside it?"
This was a terrifying thought indeed, because it meant that this ghost realm was a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any time.
Who knows just how many zombies had been created inside this realm over the past hundred years?
Should all of them suddenly appear in the main world, it would definitely lead to a disaster the likes of which hasn't been seen in a very long time.
But such matters were out of Duncan's power to control or influence—to him, the most urgent concern lay in the fact that the zombies were standing in the way of him and the exit that Duncan needed to escape.
Thinking about how he was going to escape the ghost realm, Duncan looked away from the zombie and focused his attention back into the distance.
There, just over the heads of the zombies in front of him, Duncan could see a massive cone of white light that hovered over the horizon like a gateway to another world.
Having followed the direction of the compass, it had naturally led Duncan here; and after seeing it, without the need to be told, Duncan immediately knew that this was his ticket out of the ghost realm.
To escape, Duncan needed to pass through the cone of light, but to do that, he would have to pass through the sea of zombies that were standing between him and it.
Just great!
"How the hell am I supposed to get through all these zombies without getting spotted?"
Looking down at his boots, Duncan then said to them, "I don't suppose you have any way out of this, do you? After all, you are the one who got me into this mess in the first place."
"..."
As expected, Duncan received no reply, not that he was expecting any in the first place. He just wanted to vent a little to ease the tension he was currently feeling.
But then, as if something was responding to Duncan's question, there was suddenly a disturbance coming from Duncan's left.
Turning to look, Duncan saw a scene that caused his jaw to drop open in sheer confusion and dread.