When leaving the car late at night, Yu Solan is the norm, but Shirley has to rely on coffee to refresh herself. Fortunately, there are many vending machines in the hospital, which store a large amount of canned coffee. Solan does not need to drink it. When Shirley throws coins, he just looks at the vending machine thoughtfully. Mineral water and carbonated beverages, tea drinks and canned coffee. Unlike the University of Washington, the vending machines here only provide Nestle, and there is no sign of the choice coffee at all.

“It’s really a cumbersome job.”

The vehicle started, and the seven-seat Toyota Prado drove away from the hospital parking lot and was about to drive to the residential area in the south of the city.

"Search in the vast crowd, from the scene of the crime to the murderer, if the zombies could be easily caught, then over the years, we would have been almost wiped out by humans. Believe me, Shirley, the ability and lifespan of zombies are closely related. You will never hope that only old antiques will be left in the same category, right?"

Shirley was drinking coffee in big gulps. She hadn't been able to sleep well the night before yesterday, and her dark circles were still hanging on her face. Now she was going to take out a car to catch the bad guys. It was really not too much to drink.

"You and me... are useless." She drank a can of it in a few sips and put it in the empty bottle in the storage box: "You open your mouth and keep a zombie, and you have all your own words. I just distinguish it... That Walker is a zombie, right?"

Shirley couldn't hide her uneasiness. Although Solan never verbally admitted it from beginning to end, and acted like a kind patron saint, how could she not know the true identity of her senior partner at this point? She was so powerful that she looked like a god and a demon, and the group of pure walking dead, God, she couldn't even help but feel for being grateful in her heart, for being an extremely devout believer.

"A zombie with some thinking ability or a psychopath whose dietary structure has been changed, I will never admit that he is a zombie, including Martha Walker. I will see you later." Solan said calmly: "The puppet master can easily mass-produce zombies, but zombies... Humph, that's not how it is produced."

The gentle whisper, accompanied by the night in the outside city, made Shirley shudder again. She exclaimed softly: "Yes, I haven't asked you before, Solan, your zombie can only be made by the so-called puppet master, right? Then, zombies... take a bite? Or do you use some magic? Sorry, I just can't help it..."

Seeing Shirley being curious and nervous, and nervous, Solan smiled softly. He looked at the navigation device and it was time to drive down the main road after another half a mile: "It's normal. When Optimus Prime first met Tom, he knew that he should tell him first that he was from the planet Sabottan and wanted to grab the source of fire from the Decepticons."

However, Solan saved the process of self-introduction and saved Shirley from the mountains and forests, allowing her to witness so many strange things, but immediately left her hands behind. Poor Shirley, after sleeping tiredly and waking up again, she found herself lying on the dissection table in the autopsy room. The pair of dark circles contained countless resentment.

"Um……"

Shirley didn't say anything anymore, just waited silently for the car to arrive at her destination.

What the hell does Solan want to do?

How many secrets are there to be discovered in him and his world?

Of course Shirley had this kind of question in her mind, but Solan obviously didn't have the energy to teach her a big class, or she didn't want to, but she pulled her into the passage again. Now, the curiosity was here, which made her have to grasp every word of the other party and make sure that her random thoughts were not too outrageous.

Can't sleep...

Dark circles...

"It's all your fault."

Solan turned around in surprise: "What are you?"

"Uh...huh, it's okay!"

Shirley was in a state of emotion again, but Solan just smiled, but now he didn't have the heart to pay attention to this. The car had already entered the residential area, and Walker's house was outside the three door numbers in front.

He sniffed his nose and did not smell the strange smell in the air. The moonlight in the sky was clear and the night flies and white moths were flying around the street lights on the deserted streets. Everything seemed very peaceful, but it was like the last calm on the sea before the storm came.

When Shirley got out of the car, the first thing she did was to take out her pistol and even bounce off her security. She combed her golden hair into a ponytail and her bangs never blocked her view. However, in this environment at night, the white down vest was a bit too obvious. But considering that the other party should not move the gun, this exposure should be harmless.

Solan patted her on the shoulder and said, "Relax your shoulders and focus your strength on your wrists and legs. What you need to pay attention to is the speed of flexible displacement and gun removal."

Shirley nodded, her shoulders were no longer tense.

Although Shirley was nervous, Solan naturally had no scruples. He quickly walked outside the three door signs, and the Walker's house was there. At a glance, it seemed that this was a very ordinary double-storey American wooden house, but when you looked closely, the details worthy of the attention of passers-by were everywhere.

In contrast to the surrounding neighborhood, the lawn that should have been flat and clean had obviously not been repaired for a while, but it was not too bad, far from reaching the exaggeration of being completely abandoned. But the glass windows of the house were all broken. It was obviously caused by the neighbors after the case of O'Leyle Walker was exposed, and the vanguard must have no time to repair the window sash, or she disdains this at all?

The newspaper box was stuffed, and the floor was spread out better, including newspapers, emails and brochures, with a wide variety of contents. Solan reached out and clicked twice, and then accurately found the earliest newspaper. But looking at the date, the headlines published a news report about the Olympic fire, and the author was Nina.

"These two guys... really put all their energy on killing people." Solan was extremely ashamed: "Why don't you do the job of picking up newspapers? I found out early, otherwise they would not be overwhelmed by the complaints from their neighbors, right?"

Shirley stood aside and stared at the news on the newspaper's homepage, but she was not reading this familiar article, but looking at the avatar in the author's column.

"Nina..." she whispered: "What did she think when she knew you were... well... knowing these secrets?"

Solan put the newspaper in the report box and took a lot of effort to completely put it in. He looked around and found that in addition to the large pieces of broken windows and stones, there were many traces of dumping garbage. It is no wonder that the neighbors dislike Martha Walker so much. Among the remains of the corpse found by the police from the beef shop, many of the acquaintances and neighbors who belonged to Walker were disgusted and hated. If Martha Walker was really an innocent person, then she would have been harmed by her husband.

Fortunately, she seems to be only less innocent.

"Nina..."

Solan sighed softly and chuckled: "It's funny, I'm just revealing my identity and knowing Nina. Instead of asking me about her mental journey, it's better to ask her mobile phone number and you can chat slowly by yourself. How about it, I'll copy you a copy?"

Let her chat with his girlfriend?

Shirley grinded her back teeth hard, deliberately, Solan definitely did it on purpose. He is not the kind of innocent boy with a terrible emotional intelligence, he must have done it on purpose!

"Well, Officer Adams, please do not have private chats during the mission!"

After that, she walked towards Walker's house first, holding a loaded gun in both hands, stepping on the standard tactical pace, and leaning on the side of the door in an exquisite manner. Then she looked at Solan, nodded, and then pressed down the handle of the front door by herself.

Solan was still standing next to the newspaper box, facing the main entrance of Walker's house at a distance of twenty feet. Seeing that before he could nod, Shirley gently opened the door. He twitched gently, and it was nothing.

With a gentle creaking sound, the moonlight shone in the entrance hall, but more darkness was still lurking around, and the depths were even more silent. Shirley swallowed hard, and the palms of her gun were sweating, but she still took the next step firmly and stepped onto the floor of the entrance hall.

The task was assigned in silence, and Solan stood outside the house and took a deep breath.

It seems that there is no smell of the walking zombies.
Chapter completed!