"Brother Su, thanks a lot!"
Qiu Shuo's forehead was sweating, words escaping one by one.
"Let's skip the gratitude for now. What happened here?" Zhang Su sat on the ground, looking at the bitter Lu Yubo nearby.
"Brother Su, talking about this, you're partly responsible!"
After Zhang Su's question, Lu Yubo, like a wronged big boy, immediately got teary-eyed.
"Damn, you're really good at passing the buck!"
Zhang Su felt thoroughly perplexed.
Clang.
Lu Yubo threw the machete in his hand onto the ground and said, "If it weren't for you selling us these crappy machetes, Brother Shuo and I would've been able to fight our way out smoothly!"
Hearing his companion's words, Qiu Shuo laughed free-spiritedly, looked at Zhang Su and said, "Brother Su, this knife is really useless; it can't even chop off a zombie's arm."
Zheng Xinyu and the others exchanged puzzled glances, even Tan Huajun who came over with the medical box was dumbfounded, not understanding the situation.
"I..."
