The next day, the heavy snow persisted, though it showed significant signs of weakening compared to yesterday. Early in the morning, Qiao Shan led ten brothers and several prisoners in a grand procession toward the factory, divided into three cars.
"What? You're trying to head back in this weather? Won't that be too dangerous? Over!"
Old Zhao had just reported their decision to return today to Xu Renjie, who immediately questioned it.
Old Zhao not only understood but also agreed with Old Xu's concerns. After all, driving in such weather was indeed difficult, and they might get stuck halfway.
In the past, it wouldn't have been a big deal; they could just make a call for help, and the transportation department would dispatch someone to handle the situation. But now, the only ones you might call for help on the road are the zombies, eager to rip you apart.
