Marvel’s Death Merchant

On the second day of the mutant rabies virus outbreak, Mercy Hospital.

Under the dim light, an old man was sitting in front of the hospital bed, ignoring everything around him. He seemed to have no emotions, but his eyes were full of sharpness. It was obvious that he was a very powerful soldier.

"Sir, don't you have any family members?" A voice sounded at the door of the ward.

The old man glanced in the direction of the sound, and the wrinkles on his face were so conspicuous under the light.

Seeing the old man's eyes, the man said a little embarrassedly: "Oh, okay, I'm sorry...I shouldn't..."

The old man's eyes were full of sorrow, as if he was worried about something.

"So...are you a retired soldier?" The man at the door summoned up the courage to ask again, as if he was somewhat interested in the old man's experience. This may be because of his aura, which made him look different.

"Isn't this a veterans hospital?!" the old man asked.

"This is just our routine inquiry. Don't be too nervous, because after all, the infectious disease incident made me feel bad."

"I have no problem, but I think you should relax." The old man interrupted. Then he picked up a pack of cigarettes on the bedside, lit it, ●, and started smoking.

"Mr. Bill, you can't smoke here. I'm sorry, I should have told you earlier..."

The old man did not put out his cigarette, but asked: "Are you a doctor?"

"Well, I'm not yet, but I am an intern doctor...ahem..." the doctor said awkwardly.

"Doctor intern?" The old man was surrounded by smoke.

"I mean...I'm still learning how to be a doctor. Of course I can't speak now...Ahem, this cigarette." The man was choked by the cigarette and hesitated to speak.

"Please don't..."

"Son, go to another place for internship..." The old man interrupted him again. Although his tone was much warmer this time, this was not a safe place after all. As a warrior Bill could sense his own danger.

"Is your name William Beale?" The intern finally said his first complete sentence.

"What's wrong?" Bill said calmly.

"I came here to call you for surgery, so please..."

"Okay, I'll go with you.

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Bill walked into the operating room and followed the doctor's instructions. After everything was ready, the operation began.

After a long-term injury that recurred, he finally started surgery.

"Start anesthesia now, count from ten to one." The doctor wearing a mask said.

"Okay." Bill acquiesced.

"ten...."

"Nine..." The voices and looks of the two doctors in front of Bill gradually became blurred...

"Eight..." His eyes almost closed. The only thing that can be seen is the doctor preparing equipment. Another doctor, huh? Why are you holding your stomach?

"Seven...???" From the corner of his eye, Bill saw the doctor suddenly vomiting a mouthful of blood!

The doctor who was preparing the equipment heard the sound and immediately looked back.

"Ouch-" A zombie scratched the doctor's chest, and blood spattered everywhere. Could it be an infected zombie?

The zombies in front of him were killing the doctor crazily and knocked over Bill's bed. Looking at that ferocious face, Bill was surprised and wondering what was going on.

However, the effect of the anesthetic made Bill exhausted and he wanted to sleep.

"Can't pass out!!!" Bill's heart struggled hard. But the scene in front of him was still gradually blurring.

"Wake up...quickly..." Bill's hands clenched tightly. But the sound became weaker and weaker.

It was finally dark. "No! Wait, wait." Bill's strong military will awakened him.

The zombie in front of him opened his mouth wide and came to kill him.

Bill kicked the zombie's chin violently, causing the zombie's jaw to bleed and dislocate, and it rolled to the ground.

"God, what happened? Run." Bill looked at the zombies that were not dead yet and immediately got up and ran out.

He rushed out of the operating room, but there was the shadow of a zombie in front of him. It's about to catch up.

"Gah...ha" the zombie screamed crazily.

Bill opened a door: "Here..." The door said "Medical Equipment"

"Don't pass out...don't be afraid...you need to find some sharp weapons...kill him and then go home." The effects of the drug are still continuing.

"...Where the hell is it?!...Stay awake...Can't sleep...Look for it...Where is the weapon...Where is it?" "Where are the sharp weapons..." Bill rummaged around frantically.

"Found it!" Bill picked up a sharp cutting knife. The zombies are coming. Bill glanced out of the corner of his eye. "Crack!" He used a sharp knife and blood splattered everywhere.

Bill put a sheet around him and found a steel fork. Rushed out of the hospital. It was raining outside, and the cold rain hit the sheets, splattering them in half, and the knife was still dripping with blood.

Pedestrians were walking around. There was an evil glint in his eyes. Everyone seemed to be staring at him, and the eyes of these people could be seen shining in the shadows.

Bill was not afraid at all and quietly held the sharp weapon in his hand. The sharp weapon in his hand was so dazzling, and the blood on it added a murderous aura to it.

"It's been so long since I've had a real kill!" Bill thought to himself. More people came, maybe not people. But zombies.

Telephone poles were tilted and discarded papers were flying everywhere. Although he is over fifty years old, he is still going strong. The muscles he had trained in the military camp were still strong despite the rain.

When he got home, Bill was covered in mud. Bill looked around and saw the iron box next to the sofa that had been dusty for many years, locked tightly with an iron lock.

Bill opened the iron box, and the dust slowly fell. Because it had not been opened for a long time, the iron box made a "click, click, click, click, click" sound.

There was a set of military uniforms neatly placed in the iron box, and... a photo.

There are three soldiers in the photo. It can be seen that the one in the middle should be Bill when he was young. He was carrying a gun and fighting with his comrades in spirit. At that time, he also had a beard, but it was brown. , the current beard has long been washed white by the years. This photo should have been taken with fellow Green Berets during the Vietnam War.

Bill tied the laces of his general boots hard, and his green military uniform was ready for use.

He slapped the green beret on his head again.

"Crack--" The door of Bill's house opened, and the light inside reflected the figure of a soldier, so dazzling! !

"Yeah!!!" The gunfire of the M16 drowned them. A brave retired soldier arrives, and Bill is the most important survivor. (To be continued...)