Evening, I found a relatively clean house to stay.

The living room of the house displayed a happy family photo of the previous owners.

The couple was young, and their child was a little girl about three years old.

"Thank you for your house. I wish you all the best," said Wenning, lying on the sofa, babbling nonsense.

I'm so hungry.

I searched the house for usable supplies.

Two months ago, Wenning crazily sent me doomsday survival videos.

He also brought me many things that could be used for doomsday survival.

For example, now I have a small stove made from two milk powder cans.

There are still plenty of mineral water, instant noodles, sausage, and vacuum-sealed braised chicken thighs in the kitchen.

It seems this family left in a hurry and didn't take a lot of food with them.

I used the stove to boil water and cooked the noodles.

The noodles still had their usual delicious aroma.

But when I ate them, there was no taste at all.

I unwillingly opened a bag of braised chicken thighs, but the moment I took a bite, I felt nauseous and wanted to vomit.

I looked at the sausage, I didn't vomit this time, but I still couldn't taste anything.

"Zhou Zhou, how did I end up here? Where is this?"

"Did the experiment end so quickly? Did they make any progress with their experiment?"

Wenning was completely awake now.

"How did you turn into a zombie?!"

"Well, at least you didn't grow tentacles on your head. You're not ugly. I don't dislike you!"

What a shame. Is he comforting me or disgusting me?

"Yeah, now that I've caught you, you're my emergency food supply."

"The research base is gone, the vaccine development failed."

"Wenning, you really smell bad. Those zombies really don't like you because you're too stinky. They don't want to eat you."

"And also, that oceanic bacteria in your body is a freak! No wonder you can't mutate."