"Director, director, the guest in the house successfully broke through, one escapee." The staff, who suffered a setback, called the director urgently with a woeful expression.
Daniel was eating pickles and drinking cold water. The local specialties he brought—flatbread paired with pickles—had a flavor that was indescribably sharp and refreshing. When he heard the voice over the walkie-talkie, he almost spat out his mouthful of bread.
20 zombies staring at 4 people in the house, yet someone managed to escape? Daniel was furiously outraged, while the other continued with a face like a pulled long face, "Mr. Stewart ran too fast, the cameraman was left behind."
"The person's gone, so what's the point in filming?" Daniel tossed the bread in his hand in a fit of anger, his tongue tangled with frustration as he cursed, "If we can't find him, do you believe tomorrow the whole internet will accuse us of cheating, saying we gave Mr. Stewart preferable treatment?"
