The sound was a screaming chicken toy brought out from the supermarket a few days ago. He was randomly dyed black and threw it into the wilderness of the house more than 100 meters, forming a simple warning circle.

It was originally used for night alert - anyone who touched it from the wilderness at night would definitely not be for chatting.

But now the fog is everywhere, and the monster doesn't know what the screaming chicken is, so it's a mistake.

Maybe it's a human? Sorry, Link knows one of the people who walks in the wild in the foggy days - himself.

So Link ran away, rushed to the road and threw out his bicycle, pedaled a few times, and turned a small corner and headed eastward.

This is a small community with more than 100 people and every family has guns.

Later, the gunfire sounded, and no one knew how many monsters would be drawn to Rockford.

Link rode thirty kilometers all the way before putting off his bicycle and walking forward.

Where is he most familiar with on the planet of Greater Chicago?

Apart from the city, it is naturally... the town of Woodstock where the Musket of Destruction is located.

Compared with other places, the security here is also better, and there are many terrain for defense in cement buildings.

Don’t ask why a gun shop does this way, it’s a veteran + a gun enthusiast.

When you get to the nearest town, you can hear gunshots coming from time to time.

Although it is not dense, it is widely distributed. Obviously, the people here are not crushed and slaughtered by monsters like Rockford.

As soon as I reached the intersection on the edge of the town, I encountered the corpses of two ogres.

He did not rush to recycle it, but scanned it with the terminal, and concluded that... they died miserably.

An ogre received at least 15 rounds of bullets, mainly rifle bullets of 5.56 and 7.62.

Even though these ogres were already very resistant to beating, they were still beaten into honeycombs under such violent attacks.

Moreover, the bullets are basically on the upper body, especially from the chest to the head.

Obviously, people here have noticed that hitting the ogre's body is not very fatal, and hitting the head is more effective.

Speaking of which, there is a Musket Shop of Destruction + Club here, which has a significant impact on the environmental impact of the small town of Woodstock.

Over the past decade, this town has gathered three other gun shops and seven shooting clubs one after another, spontaneously forming a small gathering place for gun enthusiasts, which can meet the needs of most gun learners, enthusiasts and enthusiasts.

This one like Robert is a clever doomsday survival business.

Other gun shops and clubs have main attack shooting competitions (including providing one-stop related firearms and equipment).

The niche thing is nostalgia + practical + high play.

Some of them are targeted at ordinary entertainment customers who do not seek professionalism but are looking for fun.

Over time, many of the residents here are from related industries.

Even if it is not, you will buy a lot of guns and ammunition.

Otherwise, if you quarrel with your neighbors, and others have guns and they are empty-handed, who can tolerate this?

Or the old lady next door took out her ancestral lion hunting gun and shouted to get out, but she only had a small pistol, so life would be even more impossible.

Over time, although the residents of the town cannot compete with qualified soldiers, killers, and agents, they will not be much worse in terms of shooting and firepower.

The first head that Robert and his friends solved was thrown in the back parking lot. Many colleagues and residents have come to check and ask about the situation during the battle.

The group of people with higher combat effectiveness in the town have some contact with each other. After exchanging information, most people have a little idea of ​​the combat effectiveness of monsters.

The "Strafing Crazy" club also made up two simple slogans: "Don't hit the chest if you can shoot the head, and don't leave a bullet if you can shoot empty magazines", which reminds everyone how to deal with monsters.

So, these two ogres died miserably.

After studying for a while, Link recovered the two bodies and picked up 36 energy points for nothing.

Walking further, there was another one less than two hundred meters, and I picked up 16 energy points for free.

Walking to the Musket Shop of Destruction, he was right.

I saw that there were more than a dozen ogre corpses thrown away in a mess on the roadside of the store, all of which were filled with holes.

Link speeded up and took them away from the limit of five meters, instantly picking up 248 energy points for free.

More than 30 meters away, the two people at the back door of the gun shop did not notice any abnormalities at all.

The fog in Woodstock is much lighter than that in Rockford, but the clearer viewing distance of ordinary people is only about thirty meters, and within fifty meters, you can probably see a shadow.

In this foggy day, no one would pay attention to a pile of monster corpses more than 30 meters away.

Easily harvesting three hundred energy points made Link feel much less unhappy.

This group of people who came from somewhere and occupied the Musket Shop of Destruction is still of a little use.

Let's ask first.

Yes, when Link came over, he saw steel sandbags piled up in the hole in the back door, and several people with guns hid behind the bunker and smoked.

From this point of view, we can confirm that they are by no means members of the gun shop.

Even if the ogres don't attack remotely, the old birds in the gun shop will hide in a safer corner and will not expose their heads there.

Link found the wreckage of the cement booth at the door as a cover, poked out half of his head and whistled: "Brother, is this a fire of destruction?"

The people reacted slowly, and they all looked at the shooting port left by the sandbag with guns.

It seemed that after a few arguments, a voice answered: "Yes, this is the fire of destruction, what's wrong with you?"

Wait, this magnetic broadcasting cavity seems to have a little impression. Link tilted his head.

A blurred figure flashed through his mind, and he tentatively shouted: "Phoebe Fernandez? Master of Slow Motion?"

It suddenly became quiet inside, and after a few seconds the person asked hesitantly: "Who are you?"

Link: "I am Link. The Chinese student from the later period of your period has practiced guns several times at the target position next to you."

Phoebe thought for a moment before a vague influence: "What are you... Chinese children typist?"

You are just a child typist, your whole family is a kindergarten! Link cursed inwardly, but replied: "Writer, what a fuck is a writer, OK?"

Someone inside couldn't help laughing out loud: "Haha, child typist? Haha, what a fucking writer?"

Phoebe explained in awkwardly: "It was all called by the instructors of the club. I really don't remember his name anymore, I just remember the nickname."

Another man grabbed the point: "Wait, so your nickname is really... Slow motion master, what are you shooting?"

Phoebe's face was not very good: "Natural humanistic photography, you don't understand it even after you say it."

The other three really don’t understand this “natural humanistic photography” and don’t go into it in depth.

Link continued to speak again: "There is an ogre in my house, and there is no way to hide. Are Robert and the others?"

———

———

(Note: Slow motion master Phoebe Fernandez, starring book friend "Be careful of using fire")
Chapter completed!