Gavin stood at a modest height of 193 cm, which made his clothing dilemma relatively easy to navigate. But Madison was another story altogether.
Towering at 207 cm, Madison's feet nearly matched Durant's when he played basketball. With feet of that size, finding shoes was a challenge that required visiting specialized stores.
Now that the world had descended into chaos, could Gavin realistically expect to find NBA-sized shoes in a second-hand clothing shop in some small town? It was laughable.
Upon hearing Gavin's words, Madison quickly recognized his predicament and nodded in agreement.
"You're right—damn, my shoes are nearly impossible to find."
"It's fine if your clothes are a couple of sizes smaller. Worst case, you could wear them like tights. As long as you can squeeze your arms and legs into them, it'll work," Gavin replied.
"But shoes—one bag won't cut it, Gavin. We'll need to put food in there too. Do we really have to go to the kitchen later..."
Just as Madison voiced his concern, he abruptly fell silent.
Not far away, Gavin's brow furrowed instantly. The vehicle alarm outside the window had ceased entirely!
As the sound faded, the atmosphere in the room grew heavy, and silence enveloped the two of them.
Listening to Madison's labored breathing, Gavin took a deep breath and spoke softly.
"Old Mac, I'm not going to the kitchen. I told you I prefer to avoid risks."
At that moment, Gavin recalled the zombie trapped in the corner of the food delivery entrance on the first floor.
"I saw a zombie at the delivery port connecting to the restaurant when we were in the corridor."
"We have no idea if there are more zombies in the kitchen or how many might be lurking there," he continued.
"Wait, Gavin, what if that's the only zombie near the kitchen? Are we really not going to check it out?" Madison asked, a hint of reluctance in his voice, for alongside his nerves, he felt a pang of hunger.
Gavin had maintained an exceptional physique since his arrival in this world. His strength and speed were almost on par with the best in the world, and even without rigorous training, he kept himself in excellent shape.
Despite lacking formal weightlifting or sprint training, his bench press and 100-meter dash were near world record levels.
This physical prowess was his unique trait, the sole benefit of his time travel.
Madison, however, did not share this advantage. To keep himself competitive, he engaged in intense workouts and maintained an exaggerated diet.
At last night's gathering, Old Mac had indulged in copious amounts of wine. As for food? Did two models count as a meal?
Thus, even though it was barely morning, Madison's stomach was already growling.
He couldn't dwell on his hunger; the more he thought about it, the hungrier he became. He found himself yearning for the steak that might be waiting in the kitchen!
After a moment of silence, Gavin shook his head resolutely.
"No, I won't go to the kitchen even if there's only one zombie."
"The hall is too exposed, and the food cart with the zombie is too noisy. Evading him would be difficult, so I doubt we could sneak past without being noticed."
"Can you throw knives? Even if you can, do you have experience making precise, silent kills with throwing knives?"
Gavin patted Madison's arm.
"As long as we escape from the manor, we won't be lacking in food for at least the next six months to a year."
"Even if we avoid cities and towns filled with people, there are plenty of convenience stores along the roadside at gas stations."
"There are just the two of us. A single convenience store will last us quite a while. Food and water are indeed essential, but they shouldn't be our primary concern right now, man."
After he finished speaking, Gavin moved away from Madison and resumed his search in the boss's room.
As Gavin picked up half a box of cigars, Madison nodded thoughtfully.
"I understand. I trust your judgment. You always have your reasons, just like in the team."
"I'll leave the bedroom to you. I'll check the study. You still need two holsters for your revolver."
"Since Old Deng collects revolvers, he must have a holster. I'll find it. You need that."
With that, Madison exited the bedroom without inquiring about the second gun.
Gavin continued his search, still holding the cigar box, and soon discovered two car keys near the wardrobe.
A Rolls-Royce and a Corvette—not bad.
Gavin pocketed the keys, thinking they might prove useful later.
After rifling through the closet for a while, he felt a twinge of disappointment at not finding any secret doors.
You weren't a proper boss without a few secrets.
True to his word, Madison located not just one but two revolver holsters under the low cabinet beside the bookcase in the study.
A lush potted plant sat atop the cabinet, yet Madison overlooked it as he untied the rope.
Meanwhile, while Gavin strapped on the holster, Old Mac also retrieved half a pack of Wrigley's gum and seven or eight exquisite watches. The boss had quite an eclectic taste.
After a thorough search, the two reconvened at the door. Madison's bag was notably heavier, with most of the cotton stuffing cleared out.
Gavin displayed the car keys to Madison.
"The boss's room doesn't overlook the parking lot. Let's head back to your room, gather your clothes and shoes, and then figure out our next move."
As for the other rooms, Gavin was firm in his stance. He was unwilling to risk their safety in a manor teeming with nearly three hundred zombies.
With a nod, Madison agreed, and the two promptly opened the door to leave.
This time, with the car alarm no longer providing cover, they moved cautiously and finally reached their destination.
Upon re-entering Madison's room, Gavin grabbed the rope, approached the bed, lifted the quilt, and began stuffing all the large-sized clothing and shoes from the closet into the quilt, wrapping it securely.
After tying the package into a sizable backpack, he removed the saber from his back and handed it to Old Mac, then slung the package onto his shoulders.
Old Mac fastened the saber to his backpack, and the two gathered by the window, crouching to observe the situation in the parking lot.
The view was still poor. They could only see a handful of scattered cars, and the road from the parking lot to the manor gate remained obscured.
That was to be expected. What kind of manor would feature a view from its floor-to-ceiling windows cluttered with cars and helicopters?
Realizing this, Gavin stepped away from the window, picked up a bottle of wine from the coffee table, and said to Madison, "Grab a bottle too, Old Mac. If we want a clear view of the parking lot, we'll need to strategize from the side of the villa."
"I'm fine," Madison replied.
With that, after exiting Madison's room, they both appeared armed with a saber in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
They made their way to the right side of the corridor, arriving at the door at the corridor's end that led to the outer stairs.
Through the doors and windows at the corridor's end, the complete parking lot, including the crash site of the helicopter, was finally revealed to them in its entirety.
The boss's room faced the front of the manor, while Gavin and Madison's rooms overlooked the yard at the back.
The manor's parking lot and helipad were arranged in a T-shape alongside the manor, connecting the garden area to the villa's side stairs.
Now standing at the corridor's end, Gavin could clearly see that the crashed helicopter had come to rest in the left corner of the T-shaped parking lot.
In its descent, it had smashed down upon and ignited eight or nine cars.
Surrounding the burning wreckage of the helicopter and vehicles was a restless throng of zombies.
Although the alarm had ceased to sound and no longer drew the undead, the zombies congregated at the heart of the explosion showed no inclination to depart. Instead, they continued to circle the epicenter as if on a relentless patrol.
Whenever the patrolling zombies encountered a car obstructing their path, they would momentarily erupt into a frenzied state, either running wildly or relentlessly battering against the vehicle.
The cacophony they created sent ripples of agitation through the entire horde.
Gavin and his companion stood in the corridor for more than three minutes, during which the zombies exhibited signs of agitation five times, their accelerated pace leaving both men breathless.
"You run so fast..."
After lamenting the environmental toll, Madison could not help but mutter in frustration.
Gavin quickly grasped Madison's shoulders and whispered, "It seems that when zombies are halted by obstacles, they easily descend into a manic state, inciting chaos among their ranks."
"So when we lure the zombies away, we must also strive to guide them to an open area, preventing them from causing inexplicable disturbances and unnecessary trouble once they come to a stop."
"It's up to you to decide. I can't think too deeply about it. I just want to recover my Tyrannosaurus Rex!"
Madison nodded in agreement, then raised her hand to point at a blue Dodge Rex situated near the center of the parking lot.
While this car was not particularly expensive, Madison had enhanced the engine beyond its original specifications, empowering the Tyrannosaurus pickup truck to launch forth with a catapult-like force, boasting horsepower that rivaled or even surpassed that of the Dodge Mammoth.