I am the Zombie King of the Apocalyptic World
Chapter 1258 - 1253: Color 3

Chapter 1258: Chapter 1253: Color 3

"Jelly? It does seem so," Tang Ye nodded, agreeing with the apt description.

"But that’s not right, is it?"

His eyes roamed as he noticed something amiss; his own voice had appeared, and he had heard it, but it felt foreign, like that of a stranger. Yet he was certain it was his own voice that had described these colors as moving jelly—it was telling him!

As Tang Ye made this realization, the hallucinatory whispers around him became clearer. But not exactly clear—merely distinguishable enough to vaguely grasp their meaning. Many voices, each muttering to themselves, no one engaging in conversation with another. Some were singing, some reciting poetry, some playing with their toys and producing childish plot lines, and some were gaming, their minds exploding with rage.

"Yayayayaya~..."

"Hehe, come blur the lines with me, tsk tsk, you say I’m not here, but you’re the one who came looking for me at Haihui Temple."

"...blurring my memories of the stars, looking afar, that’s the bright moon of my hometown."

"Swinging the sun, shattering flakes of gold, reaching out to pull in a dream’s rosy light, the alleyways of the South..."

"Hohoho ha! Here it comes! The Red Slayer of the Super Squad... hehe, I must uphold justice! Exterminate evil! Hahaha!"

"F*ck! Teammate, I f*cking... Pitful always around me! Stupid matchmaking system! I’ll f*ck your mother! The enemy’s so damn good! My teammates are like retards! Ahhh! Stupid teammate feeds two more kills! We’re gonna lose, f*ck!"

"..."

The things in front of Tang Ye passed by faster and faster. Their colors had blended together, and gradually, Tang Ye could no longer see those bright colors. Before him was darkness, but not quite, it was dark but not dark, was it white?

"It should be white."

Internally, Tang Ye answered that person’s guess. Anyway, his current feeling was even stranger than before. He seemed to see even more things, things that could not be materially manifested, but still, they appeared before him—only they didn’t belong to this dimension. Yet, they were undeniably there. To fully describe these things, Tang Ye thought it impossible. Even the most skilled writers, who could depict anything with words, would struggle to describe it; of course, it couldn’t be drawn either. Tang Ye could only express these presences by his own inner senses.

And this darkness was odd, like projecting a film onto a white board. When the screen turns black, is it black or white?

The first reaction is black, but soon one realizes that the projected film was on a white board—how could it be black?

But at this moment, Tang Ye genuinely didn’t know if the color before his eyes was black or white. It was odd. Ever since entering this state, everything felt peculiar.

The items floating before his eyes were moving too quickly. So fast that Tang Ye could scarcely make out their forms, just a glimpse of silhouette drawings!

Their blended colors were so disorienting that even Tang Ye, a Level 8 zombie, felt dizzy.

It lasted a long time. Tang Ye didn’t know how much time had passed. In this state, he seemed unable to sense the passing of time. Anyway, things started floating by even faster until, in the end, Tang Ye felt his body spinning at high speed!

It was like lying down, like standing up... Everything before his eyes began to distort, like looking up from the bottom of a well with no view of the sky, only seeing irregularly placed bricks.

"What does this feel like?"

"I don’t know."

"Hehe, isn’t it fun?"

"It’s boring."

"...What is it like outside?"

"I don’t know."

"Hehe, I am Li Henian..."

"I am Li Henian too."

"But you’re fake."

"You’re the fake one."

"We’re both fake."

"We are all fake!"

"Hahahaha!"

"Heheheh."

"...I think we both have a name."

"We’re not Li Henian."

"You are my confidant, and I am also yours."

"We understand each other well."

"I can feel the sadness in your heart."

"I can feel the sadness in yours too."

"I killed someone."

"I’ve killed someone too."

"Is that person dead?"

"That person has died, but it seems they’ve also not died."

"That person has already done what they wanted."

"So why should we be sad?"

"We are one person, I am me, you are also me, I am you; you see the mirror, the person inside, that’s our soul."

"He is weeping, wishing he weren’t so unique."

"I want to look at the sky outside the window."

"Because that brings peace, right?"

"It’s just like me."

"Why would someone do something to hurt us?"

"Because we never had anything, and if we did, we would quickly lose what we never had."

"Why must it be this way?"

"..."

"Look, that’s us..."

"I’m sorry..."

"I’m glad, to see you..."

"No... we are one person, goodbye."

Tang Ye didn’t know who he was speaking to. The place was crowded and lively, in a quiet, profound night. Sometimes somebody would pass through the street, and amidst the dim room lighting, countless voices at a gathering were faintly detectable, yet unheard.

Within the twisted space, Tang Ye came to his senses, always wavering between lucidity and madness. Sometimes he would leap from one extreme to the other, unaware of the transition.

What he saw before him was the same as before, indistinguishable between white and black—as if a wall stood a mere millimeter, even a few micrometers away, blocking his view of everything outside. Stuck on that monochromatic wall in his eyes was something like a clump of mud.

"I’m back."

He murmured strangely, just like those other voices. It seemed to be his memory—"white wall," tirelessly white, becoming tiresome upon prolonged gazing. The eyes would blur, seeing pure white or pure black as other colors. They reflected other hues.

Only that clump of mud allowed Tang Ye to see other colors because it differed entirely from pure black or white, pleasing to the eye, unlike any previous color.

It’s as if... the mud wasn’t yellow. What color was it?

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