“Ha ha ha ha, that bastard old man must have killed himself with his own experiments! Ha ha ha, the bastard old man has kicked the bucket, turned to ash!” After a few laughs, he suddenly remembered something and frantically rushed into the debris.
“Damn old man, release my soul contract before you die, damn it! I haven’t lived enough, I don’t want to die yet!” Montor, with all his strength, began to clear the debris, searching for the soul contract that would free him from his fate.
Just then, the most unexpected thing happened. As Montor was clearing near the core of the cave, there was a sudden clatter, and amidst the flying debris, the zombie boy emerged, crawling out from the rubble.
“Uh!” Stunned by the sight before him, Montor stared at the zombie boy, whose gaze was vacant, his head slowly turning like a malfunctioning robot, seemingly examining himself.
“Yikes! A zombie!” Montor turned to run but then thought it was odd. That kid was tougher than a cockroach; if he wasn’t dead, it meant the old bastard wasn’t dead either. At that moment, the zombie boy began to move again. With a clatter, he bent down, grabbed a stinky foot, and with a swift motion, pulled Oliver out from under the debris.
