This fear seemed to make him forget the shadows cast by the zombie horde. Even the term "Zombie King" became flat and insignificant in his mind. Panic began to creep in, and for a fleeting moment, he had an impulse to return to the Sanctuary City. Just like the broadcaster had said—to pick up a weapon and fight the zombies on the battlefield! Even if he died, it wouldn't matter. He would no longer fear death!
This might be what they call courage—a courage that planted such thoughts in his mind. But this impulse was quickly suppressed by him. Reflecting on his life, he considered himself to be an ordinary person, one of many millions of insignificant souls. He'd never thought that he would ever do anything great. He lived an average life and expected to die just as ordinarily. A hundred years from now, no one would remember that a man once called "Ghost Head" had ever existed.
The traces of his existence would be slowly erased by the passage of time!
