Under Li Luo's command, the convoy drove into the factory in an orderly manner, like a well-trained steel army.

The sound of vehicle engines echoed in the empty factory.

The sound was like a long-sleeping beast being awakened, breaking the long silence here.

The wheels rolled slowly, raising clouds of dust. Each grain of dust seemed to be writing a new chapter, recording the difficult journey forward in this doomsday.

The vehicle's lights flickered in the darkness, like faint, flickering flames, struggling to illuminate a small area around it.

The dim light seemed to be the light of hope struggling in the end times, trying hard to penetrate the endless darkness and guide people in the direction of progress.

Inside the factory, the light was dim and gloomy, as if it was tightly wrapped in a haze of despair.

Looking from the inside, the tall factory building stands quietly like a silent giant.

The walls are covered with mottled cracks and stains, which are the deep marks left by time and disaster.

Abandoned machinery and equipment are scattered here and there, some are already rusted, like wreckage ruthlessly abandoned by time, exuding an old smell.

The shabby wooden boxes and sacks piled up in the corner seemed to have been forgotten by the world, emitting a smell of decay in the darkness.

Occasionally, a creaking sound was heard, and I didn't know whether it was the wooden box loosening or some unknown movement.

It makes one's heart suddenly tighten, as if an invisible hand is tightly grasping the heart.

Most of the factory windows were broken, and the strong wind rushed in through the holes, making a "wailing" sound, like a plaintive cry.

The ground was covered with dust and debris, and occasionally some unknown fragments could be seen, which seemed to be telling of the chaos and panic that had once existed.

The footsteps made a rustling sound on the ground, as if reminding people of the desolation and loneliness here.

Although the roof has several damages, the main structure is still solid, like a tenacious soldier who holds his position and never retreats.

In the center of the factory is a relatively spacious open space. Although the ground is a bit bumpy, it is large enough to accommodate the entire fleet.

Above the open space is the tall factory roof, which is like a huge umbrella, providing a safe area for the convoy to shelter from wind, rain and hail.

And in an inconspicuous corner, several human corpses lay there.

After half a year, the clothes on the corpse had already become tattered and fluttered slightly in the wind, as if saying their final farewell to the world.

The tattered clothes were like a broken flag, swaying weakly in the wind.

The skin of the corpse had lost moisture and took on a dry, gray-brown color, with white bones even exposed in some places.

Although their faces are blurred, one can still vaguely feel the fear and despair before death.

That frozen expression seemed to tell of the tremendous pain they had once endured, making one wonder what kind of terror and struggle they had experienced in the last moments of their lives.

Next to them, there were several zombie corpses.

The twisted limbs were like dolls being manipulated at will; some limbs were bent at weird angles, as if they were broken by a powerful force.

Most of the zombies' heads showed signs of damage, and some were smashed so hard that they were dented, revealing the black substance inside, which emitted a disgusting stench.

The stench filled the air, making one's stomach churn.

Some of them looked like parts had been cut off by a sharp weapon, and their incomplete appearance was chilling.

The hideous face is terrifying even in the dim light, and the empty eyes seem to still tell of the past madness and bloodiness.

On one side of the factory, there was a row of simple rooms with their doors closed.

There are still some blurry graffiti and slogans on the walls of the room, looming in the darkness, as if reminding people of the former bustle and busyness of this place.

Those graffiti and slogans seemed like words of hope left by people in the past, but now they seem particularly desolate in the darkness of the end of the world.

They are like witnesses of history, witnessing the struggles and hopes of mankind in the past, but now they can only silently tell stories of the past in these ruins.

Every scratch and every blurred handwriting seems to carry endless memories and emotions.

The whole factory is filled with an old atmosphere. In this storm, it is like a lonely fortress, providing people with a temporary safe haven.

However, this harbor is not absolutely safe and may face various dangers at any time.

Everyone knows that in this end times, no place is truly safe.

They must always be alert and ready to respond to possible dangers.

At this time, the convoy was parking in an orderly manner.

Li Luo was not idle. She mobilized her gold-related supernatural powers, and golden lights flashed, interweaving around the factory like flexible silk threads.

Under the influence of the supernatural power, the broken roofs slowly flew up and were pieced together again, as if they were carefully repaired by an invisible hand.

The holes in the window were also filled with golden energy, becoming extremely solid.

While Li Luo was using his special powers to repair the damage, he was planning his next move in his mind.

At the same time, in a corner where no one cares.

A slight noise was heard quietly, as if the crisis lurking in the darkness was gradually awakening.

The attention of everyone nearby was instantly attracted by this subtle movement.

When the line of sight was focused, in a pitch-black corner, several zombies with missing limbs were like demons awakened by evil forces. They dragged their incomplete bodies and slowly moved towards the people nearby.

A low roar came from their mouths. The sound seemed particularly terrifying in this silent and dark space, as if it was a call from hell, carrying with it endless gloom and despair.

"Oh no, there are zombies!"

An old man who had just been helped off the bus looked stern and shouted loudly.

His voice was loud and firm, without any fear.

"Don't be afraid, we can do it!"

The old man straightened his back and tightly grasped the weapon in his hand, which was a worn-out axe that still exuded a sense of toughness.

His face was full of traces of time, but at this moment it was filled with courage and determination.

At this moment, several people near this corner also reacted instantly, with determination flashing in their eyes.

A tall young man clenched the stick in his hand, and the stick seemed to become an indestructible weapon in his strong hands.

He rushed forward and smashed the zombie's head hard like a brave cheetah.

The zombie, who was already having difficulty moving, was hit and staggered, letting out a hoarse roar.

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