I’m Not Planning to Survive This Apocalypse
"Haah…hah…huff!" The teenager wheezed, out of breath, noticing that his hands were trembling while his palms were red. The number of Grassmen that appeared this time was four times the previous times.
His eyes were a bit cloudy while his head felt tipsy, a sign that he had overexerted himself until exhaustion had long since kicked in. His chest heaved up and down as he wiped the sweat that tried to cover his eyes, turning around to see a calm figure of Compass Carburettor.
Having not even broken a sweat, sporting at most a couple of tears on his clothes, calmly gazing at the horizon while rotating his sore wrist, Compass Carburettor looked like he was used to such situations.
Seeing such a scene, the teenager blurted out unconsciously, "How?"
"How what?" Compass Carburettor turned around, asking.