Chapter 424 Her Homeroom Teacher
Chapter 424 Her Homeroom Teacher
Bang!
The ss in front of Theresa shuddered as the zombie studentnded squarely before her.
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It pressed its face against the windshield, its gaping, withered mouth opening wide like a bottomless pit.
A rasping wheeze escaped as it gnawed at the ss, its jagged teeth scraping and squealing in a way that made her skin crawl.
“Hehehehe!
Hehehe!”
Bang!
Just as it bit down with renewed force, the windshield wiper snapped up from below, its steel edge dragging across the ss before catapulting the zombie backward.
Beneath, the bulldozer’s spinning des whirred viciously.
In the next heartbeat, the creature was caught and shredded into pieces.
<i>Boom- </i>
Theresa floored the elerator, and the Zombie Reaper roared to life, thundering toward the zombie- infested middle school.
“Aooo-
“Aooo!”
From the school grounds, the zombies poured out in a frenzy.
Theresa plowed through them without slowing, the Zombie Reaper’s des cutting down everything in its path.
Her mind filled with the crisp chime of kill counts.
Six thousand three hundred and ten.
Six thousand four hundred and eighty.
Six thousand five hundred and ny
Six thousand eight hundred and eighty
Seven thousand and three.
Eight thousand <i>nine </i>hundred <i>and </i>fifty<i>. </i>
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Chapter 424 Her Homeroom Teacher
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By the time she had nearly cleared the area outside the ssroom wing, the tally was just shy of nine
thousand.
She figured that sweeping through the building’s interior–and making one more pass on her way out- would push the number past ten thousand.
Now, she had only one priority–tracking down the high–level zombie rumored to be here.
At that moment, on the rooftop of a nearby ssroom wing, a group of survivors spotted her.
“Look! Someone’se to our school!”
“She’s killing zombies! She’s wiping out all the zombies!”
“Do you think she’s here to rescue us?”
“Rescue? Don’t be stupid. No one rescues anyone anymore. They’re definitely from another camp!” a boy of about 16 or 17 said coldly.
“Yeah. Look at their gear–look at that vehicle. It’s heavily modified. They’re from another camp, hunting for supplies.”
“If they find us, they’ll take our food!”
“And probably kill us!”
“What now? Mr. Collier hasn’te back yet!”
“Keep your eyes on them and make sure they don’t notice us. We’ll go warn Mr. Collier.”
The teens–boys and girls alike–hurriedly conferred on the rooftop.
“Okay!”
“Got it!”
After a brief discussion, three of them hurried off, leaving four behind to keep watch from the rooftop.
From above, they saw Theresa step out of her vehicle and head toward the office building.
Their expressions instantly shifted.
Theresa entered the building.
She remembered this middle school vividly–mainly because multiple missions had once been broadcast over the radio, calling for raids on this very ce.
Back then, it was described as a private institution that operated year–round, with no summer or winter breaks, and maintained strict lockdown management. That meant the campus was packed with supplies.
The grounds reportedly housed three separate supermarkets, and the cafeteria rivaled those ofrge universities<b>. </b>
Each food stall stocked staples like rice and flour in bulk.
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Chapter 424 Her Homeroom Teacher
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When that mission went out, several teams had attempted to breach the school, but none had seeded.
Eventually, a warning spread. A Level 4–or possibly higher–zombie king roamed the campus. A monster- beyond terrifying.
With that thought in mind, Theresa moved directly toward the office building.
If the creature had once been a teacher, this was the most likely ce to find it.
She pushed open the ss doors, their surface dulled beneath a thick coat of dust, and stepped into a vast hall.
Inside stood two rows of withered green nts, long dead. The walls were lined with framed profiles of the school’s most distinguished teachers.
On the far wall, bold characters proimed: ‘Educating and teaching is a pleasure.
Her gaze swept the disys, absorbing every detail.
Two gold–framed portraits, one on either side, caught her attention.
One read Marzia Dalton; the other, Barrett Collier.
Both biographies were lengthy. Barrett appeared to be a teacher in his thirties or forties. Marzia, over seventy, had been retired but brought back to teach again.
Theresa’s eyes lingered on Marzia’s face, and she froze.
“What’s wrong?” Quentin asked.
“She used to be my homeroom teacher,” Theresa said quietly.
Quentin blinked in surprise.
He had rarely heard Theresa speak about her past.
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