The apocalypse is coming.
The first priority is to arm oneself, then find food and secure a shelter.
This line of thinking is quite reasonable.
Jiang Lingling nodded slightly, didn't say anything, and continued leading Han Zhan, weaving through the hotel.
At this moment, the sounds in the hotel became noticeably more chaotic, occasionally mixed with the sharp screams of women and fierce roars.
Upon hearing these sounds, Han Zhan and Jiang Lingling exchanged a glance and quickened their pace.
Time was running short, and there wasn't much left for them.
Fortunately, the place where the food was stored was not far away, and when they arrived, two chefs in chef uniforms were already at the door of the storage room.
These two chefs wore white chef coats, one fat and one thin, the thin one was short and swarthy-looking, while the fat one was over six feet tall, resembling a sturdy iron tower from afar.
Han Zhan saw them, and they also saw Han Zhan and Jiang Lingling.
