Crazy Group

Gerald looked at the two of them from a distance, the half-bitten lunch he couldn't take another bite of because of the crazy thing in front of him.

Oliver stood straight, put his sword into his scabbard, then looked focused straight ahead. As for Leah, who was seen using a shotgun twenty meters away from him, she rarely used one.

“There is no difference in strength after I moved to slaughter 50 zombies today.”

Oliver looked at his hand, his wrist didn't feel heavy. His hand hurt quite a bit the first time he used the zombie-slaying sword.

“My physical strength is well developed. Even though my height is 186 cm and it doesn't grow anymore. Maybe it's just reaching the optimal height.”

Oliver touched his chin. An image flashed, if he grew unstoppably, it would be highly unpleasant.

"I don't want to be a Titan either." Oliver shook his head. Gunshots rang out, and Oliver saw Leah shooting again—one zombie from a direction not too far down.

"You can use the shotgun better now, Leah."

Lea
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