Chapter 91
Psychopathic Serial Killer
The warm yellow light shone on the walls, and the air was filled with the sweet aroma of alcohol and the spices of roasted meat, creating a cozy atmosphere.
Blood splattered in flakes onto the rough wall, accompanied by a burst of angry curses.
"Damn, why is it so hard to chop off a head?!"
"Damn, wasn't it easy to cut them down in the movies? Damn! Damn! Damn!!!"
Ford, his head covered in blood, staggered to his feet. Looking back, he saw blood everywhere—on the floor and walls—and screamed in despair, "Damn it! How am I supposed to clean this up?!"
Looking down, he saw that he had struggled to slit the necks of two or three people, and there were three heads piled up beside him—his handiwork.
Unfortunately, the ground was a mess, a pool of blood, and very slippery to step on.
Ford complained for a moment, then lowered his head and continued chopping at the corpse.
After Ford finished hacking the body, the entire restaurant couldn't bear to watch anymore; it was a scene straight out of a deranged serial killer.
Ford slumped into his chair, grabbed a bottle of liquor from the table, and was about to pour it into his mouth when he squinted at the label on the bottle and suddenly threw it against the wall.
"Too much, what a waste."
Ford searched under the table with a pained expression, smashing the poisoned bottles one by one. Then he picked out an unpoisoned bottle, opened it, and blew into it.
The liquor, like a scalding flame, flowed into his stomach, and Ford let out a comfortable sigh.
He looked at both sides of the dining table; on one side were piles of headless corpses, and on the other side were heads that had lost their bodies.
Ford paused for a moment, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. He was sure he wasn't seeing things.
"Damn, this guy died and still turned into a zombie!"
Ford felt he had discovered something incredible: among the pile of heads beside him, one head suddenly moved its mouth.
Like a fuse, the other heads started moving as well.
Ford stroked his chin. "So, you can become a zombie even without being infected with the virus."
"No wonder, no wonder..."
Sunlight streamed through the windows into the restaurant, softening the violent atmosphere within.
With a creak, the door was pushed open, the wind blew into the restaurant, and the smell of blood filled the air.
Wayne froze as soon as he entered the restaurant. In the dimly lit restaurant, which was slightly illuminated by sunlight, a burly man was eating the leftovers on the table, devouring meat.
The ground and walls were covered in blood, as if it belonged to a deranged killer with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Corpses were placed together, and heads were placed together.
"Yeah, Wayne, you're here." Ford, gnawing on a turkey leg, casually pointed to a seat: "Sit down, what are you looking at?"
Wayne felt a bit dizzy from the sight and tried to take a deep breath to calm down, but after inhaling the smell of blood, he couldn't hold back and turned to leave the restaurant to find a place to vomit.
When Wayne returned after calming down, Ford had already found a large sack and filled it with the heads.
"I'm back. Find some people to help me clean up these bodies and get all the blood out of the house."
"By the way, I shouldn't let the residents see me. It wouldn't be good if they thought I was a psychopathic killer."
Hearing this, Wayne looked up and glanced at Ford.
He nodded to himself. You don't just look like it, you *are* it!
Wayne wisely kept quiet. He knew Ford didn't care whether the ranch residents knew these people had been killed by him; he was just worried that they would be frightened by the fact that Ford had killed people and that the news would reach Caesar.
Ultimately, this will affect Ford's future position.
After all, as the head of a ranch, one must always consider the opinions of the ranch residents.
Wayne found several of Ford's henchmen, and together they disposed of all the bodies and cleaned up the restaurant.
Ford then rode his horse, carrying a sack, followed by Wayne and the others, to Caesar's Ranch.
Caesar Ranch is a peaceful and tranquil place.
The ranch people stayed up late last night, which was unusual for them in the apocalypse.
Many people got drunk, and even after sobering up, many still smelled strongly of alcohol.
Caesar held Amy and stayed in bed.
Caesar heard a faint sound and a hurried report.
Caesar suddenly opened his eyes and saw Amy sleeping in front of him.
Amy hugged Caesar, wrapping her arms and legs around him like an octopus.
Caesar pinched Amy's cheek, carefully separated Amy's hands and feet, and covered the naked Amy with the blanket.
He casually picked up a bathrobe from the clothes rack and wrapped it around his body.
Caesar stepped out of the stone house and saw Daryl and Morales standing at the entrance to the flower garden.
"What's wrong?"
Caesar walked over and opened the wooden fence of the flowerbed.
Daryl looked at Caesar: "Ford is here, the new manager of the Leon Ranch."
Caesar narrowed his eyes. "He's here to surrender?"
"Yes." Daryl nodded.
"What a pleasant surprise!" Caesar had no doubts and a smile appeared on his face.
After Caesar cleaned himself up, changed into a cowboy outfit, and rode his horse to the council chamber.
The council chamber remains the same as before; it hasn't been renovated or rebuilt yet.
Upon entering the conference room, one sees Ford and Wayne, along with a few others, sitting upright in their chairs.
Upon seeing Caesar's arrival, Ford and the others immediately stood up, smiling warmly as they said, "Hello, I'm Ford, temporarily managing Leon Ranch."
"Hello, I'm Ford, temporarily managing Leon Ranch."
"This is Wayne."
After both sides introduced their members, Caesar, seeing their friendly attitude, didn't keep a cold face and pointed to the chair.
"Sit down, sit down, everyone. I know why you've come, and I don't intend to do anything to your ranch."
"But I'm still very happy that you can join our ranch family."
Ford knew it was just polite talk, but he still smiled and agreed a few times.
"So, what are your demands?"
After some pleasantries, Caesar got straight to the point and asked.
It's time to plan for my own benefit.
Ford's eyes lit up, and he pointed to the people around him, saying, "My goal is to become the captain of a combat squad on the ranch."
"My old men will also be joining the combat squad."
"Of course, they don't have to join my team."
Ford's words were watertight; if he allowed all his original squad members to join Caesar's Ranch, they would still be members of his own squad.
So, do they listen to Caesar or to you, Ford?
The very existence of this possibility raises suspicions; Ford simply wanted status, not a private army.
Caesar laughed heartily: "That's all?"
Ford gave a simple, honest smile: "Boss, we're just trying to make a living."
"At Leon Ranch, although we can still graze cattle and sheep, there is no place to grow crops. If we continue like this, we will definitely starve to death."
"We have to survive."
"Of course, I also brought a gift."
Ford picked up a large sack, opened it with a憨厚 smile, and said, "Look, these are all the people who opposed us joining Caesar's Ranch."