The Walking Dead: reborn as Carl

　　The two brothers, More and Daryl, had already started drinking. They sat directly on the ground, smoking cigarettes and drinking them down.

　　Unlike the other two who just chatted and boasted while drinking, as if they had endless things to say, the two brothers of Moldariel, although they just sat together drinking, were unusually silent.

　　Perhaps it's because the two brothers know each other too well, or perhaps there's no need to express what they want to say.

　　"Hey, how's your drinking?" Sean sat next to the two of them with a dozen beers.

　　Moore threw Sean a bottle of wine and a cigarette.

　　This time, Sean hesitated for a moment and lit a cigarette. Although he had quit smoking, it didn't matter whether he quit smoking or not in this world.

　　I opened the beer, took a big gulp, and found that feeling.

　　It seemed as if the world outside was no longer the end of the world, and everything was as normal as before.

　　Moore took a sip of wine and said with a smile, "Sheriff, tell me, has the world become better or worse?"

　　Sean was stunned for a moment, then smiled, "For good people, it becomes bad, and for bad people, it becomes good.

　　The end of the world is nothing more than the collapse of the social structure. For humans, it is just that the living environment has become difficult, which is far from the real end of the world. "

　　"Hey, Sheriff, you are optimistic. Do you think the world is getting better or worse for us?"

　　"It's hard to say, but the bad ones must be the majority." Sean shook his head and took a sip of wine.

　　Moore nodded and drank in silence.

　　Daryl suddenly said, "Sean, how long are we going to stay here? I observed this afternoon that there are a lot of zombies in this town."

　　"I don't know." Sean frowned, somewhat helplessly, "But we have to stay here for a while. We will start searching for supplies tomorrow."

　　Daryl said calmly, "The food we found here is enough to last us for quite some time, and there is plenty of gasoline in the gas station. Where is the safe place you mentioned?"

　　Sean said, "Besides food and gasoline, we are still short of more important things. If we go to the countryside, those things will be hard to find."

　　Moore nodded and said, "Brother, the sheriff is right. We still need weapons. We have too few weapons and too few people."

　　"People?" Sean was stunned. There was no one in the thing he was talking about.

　　"That's right, people." Moore smiled, "You don't think we are the only ones who survived, right? Judging from the current situation, people are the most important resource."

　　Sean said helplessly, "But these people alone are enough to give us a headache."

　　Mor shrugged and stretched. "That's because there are too many burdens among this group of people. The people I'm talking about are useful people who can fight."

　　At this time, Daryl said faintly, "The human heart is hard to predict."

　　Sean rubbed his temple and forced a smile. "Okay, let's not talk about this anymore. Let's drink. We'll talk about tomorrow's matter tomorrow."

　　After that, Sean called out to Glenn and Dale who were chatting, "Glenn, Dale, do you want to have a drink together?"

　　Glenn, who was holding a shotgun and grinning, couldn't help but look at Dale.

　　Dale nodded. "Go ahead. Someone has to stand guard."

　　Glenn nodded, holding his shotgun, and came to Sean and the others.

　　Moore curled his lips and said, "It's just a broken shotgun, what's the big deal?"

　　Glenn smiled but said nothing. For a man, the excitement of touching a gun for the first time is indescribable.

　　This shotgun was found in the only lounge in the convenience store in the afternoon. In addition to this shotgun, there was also a pistol.

　　Including Sean's Beretta, three guns were found in one convenience store.

　　The popularity of guns is a bad thing in a stable modern society, but in the end times, it is an absolute good thing for these survivors.

　　Sean handed Glenn a bottle of beer and said, "Although we found a few guns, we still don't have many bullets. When we get to the right place, I will teach you how to use guns, but the prerequisite is that we have to find some more bullets."

　　Moore curled his lips, "It's not that easy to practice shooting from scratch. We don't have so many bullets to waste."

　　Sean asked, "Moir, how many bullets do you have left?"

　　"Not much left. Don't even think about my bullets. If I hadn't bought a 'family bucket', they would have been used up long ago."

　　Sean smiled nonchalantly, "There's a police station and a gun store in this town. We'll go check it out tomorrow. As long as it hasn't been robbed, we won't be short of guns and ammunition."

　　"That's the best." Moore opened another can of beer.

　　"One more thing, Moore." Sean looked directly at Moore, "You need to tone down your racism."

　　Sean's words seemed to have stimulated Moore's taboo. Moore immediately became furious and yelled directly;

　　"I've already restrained myself, okay? I don't need your reminder."

　　"Hey, Mor, calm down." Daryl quickly grabbed Mor, "Mor, you will attract zombies."

　　Perhaps it was the word "zombie" that made Moore regain his composure, but the anger on his face was still extremely obvious, and he stared straight at Sean.

　　"I'm sorry, Moore, I didn't mean to offend you." Sean shrugged. "I know you've been restraining yourself. I don't mean anything else. I just want to remind you."

　　"Hey, Moore, what's wrong? Are you drunk?" a voice sounded.

　　Everyone looked subconsciously and found it was Karl. Karl had come over at some point, looking like he was enjoying the show.

　　Sean frowned slightly, "Karl, go to bed with your mother early and don't run around."

　　"It's still early." Carl protested weakly.

　　"Don't listen to him, come here, little brat." Moore demonstrated what it meant to change his expression in an instant and gave Carl a malicious smile.

　　Carl hesitated for a moment, then walked over as he was told.

　　"Moir, what are you doing?" Although Sean knew that Moore couldn't really do anything to Carl in front of him, he still couldn't help but feel a little worried.

　　"Why are you so nervous? What else can I do?" Moore put one hand on Carl's shoulder, opened a can of beer and stuffed it directly into Carl's hand.

　　Carl was speechless for a while. This guy's bad taste was really low-level. However, Carl didn't say anything and took a sip of beer.

　　Fortunately, the smell of alcohol is not strong, and even a body that has never been exposed to alcohol can tolerate it.

　　Sean said sternly, "Karl, what are you doing? You are not yet an adult, how can you drink?"

　　"Wake up, Sheriff." Moore hooked one hand around Carl's neck and picked up the beer bottle with his other hand and clinked it with the beer bottle in Carl's hand.

　　"It's the end of the world, and you're still saying that minors can't drink. Isn't that nonsense?

　　In this world, apart from you and his mother, who else would care whether he is an adult or not, let alone the zombies."

　　Sean was silent.

　　Moore leaned close to Karl's ear, and the strong smell of alcohol sprayed Karl's face. He whispered to Karl, "Boy, grow up quickly."

　　Carl couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth slightly. Moore was quite interesting.

　　The dim candlelight could not illuminate his entire face.

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