The man who saved you from zombies a couple of days ago held a katana ready to rid you of zombies at any moment, which, no doubt, are in the abandoned store, which was now unnecessary.

You picked up a rustling package of chips from the floor, throwing it into a backpack slung over your shoulder. The light of the flashlight in your hand sometimes blinked, and if lady Fortuna is still on your side, you will find not only food here, but also batteries, which are now more needed than ever in all this chaos. The broken glass crunched under the hard soles of his shoes with every careful and slow step. Vergil listened.

"Be quiet, otherwise you'll be able to handle everything on your own."