Chapter Forty-Five: About the Size of a Tibetan Mastiff

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"That's right!"

Only now did everyone realize something was off.

All these workers were dressed in thick white plastic suits, with large hoods covering their heads, leaving only a transparent plastic panel in front for vision. They truly resembled workers from a chemical plant.

Zhao Shanshan stepped forward, gently tapping one of the workers on the shoulder. "Hello, we're from the River City Police Department. May I ask, is there a special reason you have to wear so much? Isn't it hot?"

The person ignored her completely, not even sparing a glance, simply continuing their work as if nothing had happened. The movements were mechanical, slow, and carried a strange, indescribable eeriness.

Witnessing this, Ah Huang narrowed his brows, eyes squinting slightly.

Fu Yang knew that whenever Ah Huang was deep in thought, he always put on this showy expression…

Zhao Shanshan was starting to get angry as well. She was, after all, the deputy captain of the criminal police—a position that commanded enough respect. Yet the other party acted as if she didn't exist!

Her temper flaring, she reached out and grabbed the worker by the shoulder, yanking hard. The worker spun around to face her.

"I'm talking to you! How can you be so rude?"

Suddenly, the worker lifted his long-lowered head. In that instant, everyone saw his face.

A rotting, ferocious, horrifying visage!

The face of a corpse!

"Goddamn it! That's not a living person!"

Fu Yang reacted faster than even the veteran detectives. Like an enraged leopard, he dashed behind Zhao Shanshan—who was frozen in shock—and pulled her back with all his strength, causing her to crash directly into his arms. In that moment, warmth and softness filled his embrace.

Almost simultaneously, the zombie worker lunged with clawed hands in a circling grasp at the very spot Zhao Shanshan had just been standing. Had Fu Yang not pulled her away, she would have been firmly seized by the horrifying corpse.

Zhao Shanshan, pale with fright, gasped for breath in Fu Yang's embrace, her eyes full of gratitude.

"Full alert!"

In a rustling motion, all the officers drew their guns and aimed at the terrifying zombie worker.

Just then, a sudden bang echoed from behind. The two oddballs who had been standing at the door chatting—the effeminate man and the dwarf—had shut the factory doors!

"Those bastards! I had a bad feeling about them from the start—they really are damned!"

A broad-shouldered officer spat on the ground, cursing vehemently.

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Jingling, jingling…

A sharp, urgent clanging rang out, carrying a chilling, eerie resonance that made hearts tremble.

Roar, roar, roar…

All the workers in their heavy suits turned to face them, surrounding the group. Then, with their hands, they began tearing off their clothes—rip, rip, rip…

One after another, the shredded suits fell to the ground, revealing the true forms of these so-called "workers."

They were all rotten corpses!

A pungent stench filled the air.

No wonder they'd been dressed so heavily—none of them were alive! The thick suits were only to contain the smell of decay.

Strangely, each corpse wore the attire in which they had died—some in Qing dynasty robes, others in outfits from the Republic era, some in modern clothes, and even a few in military uniforms—Japanese soldiers and others…

It was enough to make one suspect that the mastermind behind this was some deranged grave-robber with a perverse obsession!

How many graves would one have to dig up to assemble so many corpses?

"Damn it! I hate corpse stench the most—it's an assault on the senses!"

Ah Huang shouted, his hands flashing through a sequence of gestures. He pointed at the nearest corpse's forehead, and with a soft "pop," the creature collapsed.

The detectives looked on with awe—clearly, Master Huang was truly extraordinary!

Taking the cue, the rest quickly realized the creatures' weakness lay at the center of their brows. Gunshots rang out—bang, bang.

Only elite officers were involved in this operation, their marksmanship precise—each shot dispatched a corpse.

Fu Yang and Zhao Shanshan had long since retreated to the squad, standing back-to-back with Ah Huang. They grumbled under their breath, blaming themselves for not sensing the danger in this nest of evil, especially Ah Huang as a Taoist priest.

"Master Huang, with so many zombies, should we be preparing for the end?"

"I’m always ready to sacrifice for the people! But I intend to take down these zombies with me, keep them from harming the city."

One had to admit, the River City detectives had a strong sense of duty. The two young, irreverent officers were already discussing their chances of becoming martyrs…

Ah Huang frowned. "Don’t talk nonsense! If these were true zombies, a single one could wipe us out instantly. These are just ordinary walking corpses—not too formidable. We can fight them head-on."

"How formidable exactly?"

"Roughly on par with Tibetan mastiffs."

Fu Yang glanced around at the swarming, growling corpses. A shadow crossed his face. "So, Ah Huang, you’re saying the ten of us are being attacked by the equivalent of over three hundred Tibetan mastiffs?"

"That’s about right."

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Damn it!

Everyone was speechless.

And this was considered not too formidable?

They had expected some danger at Zhenhui Silk Factory, but nothing this extreme! Nor had they anticipated the factory's people would be so bold—this was outright murder.

All police operations were documented. If they died here, a full force would surely be sent to avenge them. Did these people not care?

Liu Zhan, a seasoned detective, was quick to assess the threat.

"This space is too cramped, we can't maneuver. We have to break out if we want to survive!"

Everyone agreed, but a glance at the entrance showed the greatest concentration of corpses there. They were all Japanese ghosts from the war, wearing steel helmets like those in TV dramas, guarding the doorway.

Jingling, jingling.

Somewhere, a bell rang again, and the corpses seemed to move faster.

"Ah Huang, are these corpses being controlled by the bell?"

"It's the work of corpse herders from Western Hunan! Those folks are usually upright, but dealing with corpses daily, it's no surprise a few twisted villains emerge."

Corpse herders from Western Hunan?!

Fu Yang thought the name sounded pretty cool…

"Cool, my ass! If you get turned into a corpse puppet, that’d be the coolest of all."

Ah Huang scoffed at Fu Yang, then called to the officers, "Hold out a bit longer—Fu Yang and I will handle this!"

The detectives immediately closed ranks into a circle, leaving a wide space in the center for Ah Huang and Fu Yang.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Genius boy, it's time for you to learn on the spot again! Come, let's draw some flying talismans together."

Ah Huang hurriedly produced ten yellow talisman papers, laying them out on the ground.

"Where’s the brush? The ink? What are we supposed to draw with?"