The Martial God who started at Mantuo Manor

Page 207

"Don't use your hands!"

Saya Takagi trembled even more violently.

But she... had no other choice.

He could only suppress the urge to vomit, lower his once proud head, and like the lowest of slaves, carefully and slowly lick the weapon that symbolized absolute violence and masculine power with his tongue.

The stench of blood still lingered in the air. Saya Takagi's pale cheeks were stained with blood that wasn't hers. She mechanically and humiliatingly performed her "duty," and every slight tremor of her body betrayed her inner collapse.

In this suffocating atmosphere, Qin Hongmian made a move.

She licked her bright red lips, as if she had just tasted something delicious.

With a swaying waist, she walked gracefully towards Wang Meng, her steps exuding a seductive charm. Her gaze was bold and direct, filled with undisguised desire and scrutiny, finally settling on the object that symbolized absolute power.

"And what about us?"

Owner?"

She parted her red lips slightly, uttering words respectfully, yet her tone was full of cunning teasing and probing, like a beautiful snake flicking its tongue, testing the lion's bottom line.

Before she could finish speaking, Wang Meng's arm shot out like an iron clamp, pulling her into his burning embrace!

The immense force caused her to gasp in surprise as her body slammed solidly into his hard chest.

He ignored her astonishment, but his gaze swept past her shoulder and coldly swept over Mu Wanqing, the "disciple" who remained silent and had a complicated expression not far away.

"How can you compare to them? They are Japanese pirates!"

Wang Meng's voice was deep and clear, carrying an undeniable cruelty: "The Japanese pirates only deserve to be dogs, don't they?"

This statement is less of a question and more of a declaration of truth.

At the same time, his large hand, which was holding Qin Hongmian, slid down and forcefully and mercilessly grasped her pert buttocks, his five fingers sinking deep into their amazing elasticity, as if trying to mold that perfect curve into his own shape.

"Well……"

Qin Hongmian's body went limp instantly, like water without bones, and her entire weight leaned on Wang Meng.

That domineering, possessive force, instead of causing her pain, acted as a catalyst, causing her to let out a short, strangely trembling cry from deep in her throat.

"Wang!"

The sound was soft and gentle, more like a small animal's deliberate, fawning whimper when it was trying to please its owner than a dog's bark.

"Really, there aren't any zombies left?"

Wang Meng muttered to himself, more to confirm than to ask.

He walked straight to the heavy iron main door of the stadium and pushed it open effortlessly.

"Crench!"

The door hinges emitted a teeth-grinding groan, and a cool breeze rushed in, dispelling the lingering stench of blood and decadence within the building.

He took a step out.

There wasn't a single zombie outside the door.

The empty playground and the road leading to the school gate were covered with sticky, not yet fully congealed pools of blood, and countless shocking, dark red drag marks.

Those traces, chaotic and disorderly, resembled countless dying bodies struggling and climbing futilely on the ground, finally being forcibly dragged away by some force, stretching all the way to the outside of the school gate.

The entire campus was cleaned up spotlessly.

This is undoubtedly good news, saving us the trouble of cleaning up low-level fish.

But at the same time, it was also the worst news imaginable—it proved that the being that emitted the inhuman screams possessed overwhelming power capable of easily slaughtering the entire campus horde of zombies.

But Wang Meng had no interest in getting to the bottom of things at the moment.

He doesn't have much time.

Even with unobstructed roads, it takes at least seven or eight hours to drive from here to Mount Fuji.

Now, the entire Honshu Island has become a zombie paradise. You can imagine that the highways must be filled with countless abandoned vehicles and even more terrifying hordes of zombies... Go as far as you can.

Without the slightest hesitation, he identified the direction where the school bus was parked, and strode towards the only means of transportation.

The women practically had to jog to keep up with his steady, powerful strides.

Rei Miyamoto was abandoned. Wang Meng had lost interest in her. Although she was alive and Wang Meng could have killed her, there was no need to leave her alone in despair.

Good!

However, just after rounding a low-rise administration building, Wang Meng suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Qin Hongmian and the others following behind him were caught off guard and almost bumped into his back.

They steadied themselves and looked ahead in the direction of Wang Meng's gaze. The next second, everyone's breath caught in their throats, and a chill ran from the soles of their feet straight to the top of their heads.

The scene before me was like a painting of hell.

Not far away, a standalone teaching building was tightly surrounded by a boundless, strangely colored ocean of rotting flesh and blood.

Thousands upon thousands of zombies, like iron filings attracted by a magnet, piled up, squeezed, and climbed wildly, forming a writhing, nauseating mountain of corpses.

The deep, concentrated roars, like muffled thunder from the depths of the earth, made people's eardrums buzz.

On the rooftop of that teaching building, a dozen blurry figures were fighting desperately.

The desperate scene was horrifying enough, but what truly made everyone's hearts stop was the enormous creature standing out from the crowd of corpses in the center.

It was a monster the size of a small giant.

It was three or four meters tall, with abnormal proliferation of muscle tissue all over its body, bulging like lumps of deformed tumors, stretching its rotting skin to the thinness of a cicada's wing.

Its arms were disproportionately thick, with palms larger than millstones. With each casual swing, it could smash any ordinary zombies that got in its way into a pile of minced meat, just like swatting flies.

It simply stood there quietly, yet it exuded a kingly, suffocating sense of oppression.

All the zombies that had disappeared from the campus had obviously been attracted, or rather, summoned, to this place.

This is good news; the road leading to the school bus has been cleared.

But this was even worse news, because they saw the "reason" for clearing the road.

Qin Hongmian's face, which always wore a charming smile, was now completely drained of color, leaving only an intense and unyielding solemnity.

Mu Wanqing subconsciously gripped the spear in her hand, her palms covered in cold sweat.

As for the other three women, their reactions were even more extreme.

Only Wang Meng, faced with this terrifying scene that could drive any normal person to the brink of mental collapse, showed no fear on his face. Instead, a cold, excited glint flashed in his eyes, like a hunter discovering rare prey.

"So... it was still up there."

he whispered.

Wang Meng's gaze did not linger on the little giant for long, but moved slightly upwards, finally settling on the monster's broad shoulders.

There stood a woman.

She had a cascade of long, brown hair that, even in the dim light, still shimmered with an ominous pale red luster.

Her skin was as white as fine porcelain, devoid of any color, creating an extreme and nauseating contrast with the rotting, bloated flesh of the monster beneath her.

She stood quietly on the shoulders of giants, a gentle breeze ruffling her hair and the hem of her skirt, her expression as serene as if she were overlooking a garden from her own balcony, rather than a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood.

This bizarre and twisted scene sent a chill through everyone that was far more profound than that of a simple horde of zombies.

Just then, three low moans, filled with extreme terror and disbelief, burst forth simultaneously from the mouths of Shizuka Marikawa, Saeko Busujima, and Saya Takagi: "Takahashi-sensei!"

The three people's voices were distorted with fear, more intense than when they had seen any horrific sights before.

Shizuka Marikawa's already unfocused pupils suddenly contracted, staring intently at the figure in the distance, her lips moving silently.

For the first time, a childlike, pure fear appeared on Saeko Busujima's usually composed face.

Saya Takagi, who was in charge of the translation, collapsed to the ground with her legs giving way.

She pointed in that direction, turned to look at Wang Meng, her voice trembling so badly she was practically grinding her teeth to powder: "It's...it's her!"

Momoe Takahashi... is the school's (Mandarin) Japanese teacher!

How could she... how could she be on that thing?

Chapter 76: I told you, next time, I'll kill you!

"Uncle-Master, there are people over there!"

A shout, tinged with both gasps and surprise, rang out from the rooftop of the teaching building.

His answer was the sharp sound of wind breaking and the muffled sound of a sharp blade cutting into rotting flesh.

On the high-rise building, a dozen or so figures dressed in dark blue Taoist robes formed a simple sword formation to defend against the surging tide of corpses.

The longswords in their hands moved with fluid grace, their light flickering and flashing. Amidst the chaos of the swords, one zombie after another that had climbed to the edge of the rooftop had their heads precisely severed or were cut in half at the waist, tumbling like tattered sacks as they plummeted from the edge of the building, dozens of meters high.

However, there were simply too many zombies.

Kill one, and three, five, or even ten will fill the gap. They are tireless and fearless; their only instinct is to climb upwards and tear these fresh, fleshy creatures apart.

Even more deadly is that these Taoist priests' bodies have all become younger to varying degrees.

They possessed decades of refined skill and their understanding of swordsmanship had reached a state of perfection, but their young bodies could not withstand such high-intensity, continuous combat.

Their robes were already soaked with sweat.

It slid down their still-childish faces.

Everyone's breathing became heavy and labored, and a burning, tingling sensation came from their sword-wielding arms. Even though their swordplay remained exquisite, their speed and power were inevitably diminishing.

"clang!"

With a crisp sound, the longsword in the hand of a young Taoist priest collided with the teeth of a zombie and was knocked away.

The zombie's bones were harder than anyone could imagine.

The Taoist priest leading the group was none other than Zhang Cuishan.

His eyes narrowed, and with a backhand slash, his sword, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, instantly pierced the zombie's eye socket.

He drew his longsword, drawing out a trail of foul-smelling black blood, and quickly glanced at the weapon in his hand during the brief moment of inattention.

All he could see was the hundred-times-forged longsword that had been with him for over twenty years; its blade was now covered with a dense network of tiny cracks, like a spiderweb.