Rebirth Stockpiling: The Little Girl Sweeps Through the Apocalypse-Chapter 407

The car came to a halt just as it was about to reach its destination.

Hearing the commotion, the zombies turned their heads in unison, letting out frenzied roars before viciously lunging forward.

The man dodged left and right, evading the first wave of undead, and sprinted straight toward the person he had been longing for.

He wrapped his arms around her.

She threw herself into his embrace—only to sink her teeth into his neck.

Blood gushed out instantly.

His face twisted in pain, yet there was also relief... and liberation.

Smiling, he tightened his embrace around his wife and daughter.

Elsewhere.

Wang Qingdong and his companions trudged through the dimly lit tunnel, guided only by the flickering light of torches.

Earlier, mutated cockroaches had attacked their base, and even this secret passage hadn’t been spared.

It was only after he led the effort to clear out the mutated roaches lurking here that they could pass through safely.

That was why he knew the place so well.

After walking for about seven or eight minutes, they arrived at a hidden door.

Wang Qingdong pried open a small switch embedded in the wall, retrieving a key from inside, and inserted it into the lock.

The door was double-sided—it could be opened from either direction.

Soon, it creaked open.

The group hurried inside.

To their surprise, they found themselves in the backyard of Wang Qingdong’s home.

Encircled by high walls, the two-story house ahead was his family’s residence.

At that moment, the courtyard was eerily empty.

Wang Qingdong rushed toward the house, desperate.

But as soon as he reached the front, he spotted two zombies.

They had once been his father’s most trusted subordinates, frequent visitors who often came to discuss matters with him.

Seeing them like this, Wang Qingdong’s stomach sank.

If even these two—men of formidable strength—had turned into zombies, what did that mean for his father, who had been recuperating at home from severe injuries?

His heart pounded with dread.

As the two zombies lunged at him, he mustered all his strength to fend them off.

His companions quickly stepped in to help.

Seizing the opportunity, Wang Qingdong ignored everything else and dashed into the house.

A terrible premonition gnawed at him.

The moment he stepped inside, the stench of decay hit him like a physical blow.

His heart turned to ice.

Then he saw it—the corpse slumped on the couch in the living room, its face so mutilated it was unrecognizable.

His entire body locked in shock.

The skull had been brutally split open, the blood pooled on the floor long dried and blackened.

The body was severely decomposed, writhing with pale yellow maggots, while flies buzzed relentlessly around it.

"Dad!"

Wang Qingdong let out a guttural cry and threw himself forward, collapsing to his knees.

Though the face was mangled beyond recognition, he knew that silhouette, those clothes—it was the same outfit his father had been wearing the day he left.

"AAAAAH!"

Clutching his head, he screamed in raw anguish.

His voice was a mix of rage and helplessness.

In the past, he had been rebellious, constantly arguing with his father, but deep down, he had adored him.

Now, that man was nothing more than a cold, mutilated corpse.

No one would ever call him "brat" again, no one would chase him with a stick, beat him, then tenderly apply medicine and cook his favorite meals afterward.

A crimson fury flared in his eyes.

All he wanted now was vengeance.

But who was the killer? Where were they?

He had no idea.

Frustration, despair, grief—all of it crashed over him at once.

Then, a sudden thought struck him.

He scrambled to his feet and frantically searched the rest of the house.

"Mom? Are you here?"

"Mom, where are you? It’s Qingdong. I’m home."

"Don’t scare me like this—please, come out. I’m begging you."

By the end, his voice was thick with tears.

But after combing through every last room, he finally collapsed against a wall, slamming his head against it over and over.

His gut told him his mother was likely gone too.

A tidal wave of guilt and regret swallowed him whole.

He wept silently, tears drenching his face.

"Young Base Leader, it’s bad—everyone in the base has turned into zombies! They’re heading this way. We have to move, now!"

One of his companions rushed to his side, panic etched across his face.

But Wang Qingdong remained motionless, drowning in grief over his father’s death and his mother’s disappearance.

Hearing the others’ frantic shouts outside, the man grew even more desperate.

He ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‍grabbed Wang Qingdong and yanked him up.

"This isn’t the time to fall apart! Wallowing won’t solve anything! Don’t you want justice for Base Commander Wang? Do you want his death—and all the others—to go unanswered? Pathetic!"

The harsh words were meant to shock him back to his senses.

And it worked.

Wang Qingdong’s tears stopped.

He looked up at the man, eyes still wet but sharpening with resolve.

The man gave him a firm nod. "We need to leave. Now."

Wang Qingdong wiped his face and stood.

He ordered the companion with fire-based supernatural ability to incinerate Wang Dahai’s remains.

After kowtowing three times before the burning pyre, he finally followed the others outside.

But by the time they reached the backyard, it was already swarming with zombies.

Trying to reach the tunnel now would be suicide—they’d be trapped.

Instead, they scaled the wall on the right side of the gate and fled.

They weaved through the streets, avoiding clusters of undead, heading toward less infested areas.

Then, mid-run, Wang Qingdong froze.

There, half-buried in a pile of dead leaves, was a familiar bracelet.

It clung to a rotting wrist.

His body trembled as he staggered forward, then began clawing at the leaves like a madman.

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When he saw the dress beneath—one he knew all too well—something inside him shattered.

He clenched his fists and pounded the ground, over and over, until his knuckles bled.

But he felt no pain.

The others watched in grim silence, their own faces shadowed with loss.

They, too, had lost loved ones.

The grief was beyond words.

"Young Base Leader, they’re catching up! We have to go!"

One of them urgently tugged at his sleeve.

But Wang Qingdong stood, glaring at the approaching zombies with a terrifying intensity.

"We’re not leaving."

"Why not?" the others demanded.

Their base was gone—its people slaughtered or turned.

What was left for them here?

Wang Qingdong’s voice was steel. "If we run now, how will we ever find the ones responsible?"