The Walking Dead: Starting as a Cowboy

Chapter 178 A figure flashed by

Caesar's ears twitched slightly, and he turned his head to look out the window.

"Amy, could you make me a pot of tea?"

"Huh?" Amy looked up, paused for a moment, looked out the window, then put down her things and walked into the kitchen. As she passed Caesar, she patted him on the shoulder. "Get up."

"Okay." Caesar patted his butt and got up.

In the study, Daryl sat on the sofa, exuding the chill of the valley.

Amy brought out a teapot and some desserts.

Eat slowly.

Daryl nodded and eagerly grabbed something and stuffed it into his mouth.

"How is Woodbury?" Caesar asked after Daryl had finished wolfing down his food.

Daryl licked the crumbs off his fingers. "The governor isn't in charge anymore. It's mainly Andrea's responsibility. Andrea said the governor even tested her a bit."

"Andrea should be undetected, but Carol is even better hidden."

Caesar nodded.

Woodbury appears calm on the surface after the raid, but undercurrents are already swirling. The residents haven't given up on escaping Woodbury; they've just kept their intentions hidden.

The governor had no patience to appease the masses and was single-mindedly focused on revenge. Once a target location was identified, he would take drastic measures.

"According to the plan, we will inform Carol that we can take action now, but we must not harm innocent residents. We will also tell the governor to start recruiting soldiers as soon as possible."

"I've already chosen the location for the decisive battle; it just needs a few days to prepare."

Caesar recounted his progress and asked Daryl to inform Carol and the other woman as well, so they could understand the overall situation.

"Okay, I'm leaving now."

Daryl arrived in a whirlwind and left in a whirlwind, quickly disappearing into the night.

"Okay, he's gone. Let's rest."

"Wait a minute. Um... um...

The temperature in the valley was still quite low at night, and Daryl soon arrived at the Bison Pass.

On the high walls of Buffalo Pass, Mohr chuckled as he drank his strong liquor.

"Hey, little bro, out so late?"

Daryl raised his head, removed his cloak to reveal his face, hesitated for a moment, and then strode toward the high wall.

Moll gave a wink to the team members around him, and they wisely dispersed, keeping their distance from him.

As you walk into Moor, you can clearly see Daryl's face.

His shoulder-length hair almost covered half of his face, and through the parting of his hair, one could vaguely glimpse his sharp eyes.

Moore frowned and said with feigned disgust, "Brother, you should get a haircut. You look really disheveled."

Daryl ignored Moore's comments, plopped down in a chair, and looked at the scenery outside the valley.

The mountain wind howled through the Bison Pass, capable of significantly lowering a person's body temperature.

Daryl tightened his clothes, only to see Moore take a sheepskin and cover Daryl with it.

"Hey, this goatskin cover keeps me warm at all."

The two brothers didn't say much; often at times like these, neither of them was good with words.

They stayed quietly together, enjoying this rare time together.

Daryl quickly stood up, tossed something to Moore, and strode downstairs.

"I'm leaving."

Moore reached into his pocket and found a Bible. He chuckled and shouted, "I've already memorized this Bible!"

"Whatever."

Daryl answered from afar and mounted his horse.

"Open the door!"

Moll shouted.

With a creak, the heavy door swung open, and a cold wind blew in.

Daryl pulled up his mask, squinted, and urged the horse forward.

Watching Daryl's figure gradually shrink until it disappeared into the night.

Mohr watched calmly, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes.

Beneath the seemingly calm surface of Woodbury, as Daryl relays Caesar's orders, a turbulent undercurrent begins to surface.

The governor glanced at the street outside the blinds. The street was crowded, but he could sense that everyone was acting in a panic, which was completely different from the peaceful and stable atmosphere of the past.

Growing impatient, the governor turned and sat back in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the entire room.

Everything in the room was cleaned, the windows were reinstalled, the fish tanks were cleaned, and even his own daughter was buried by him.

Everything around him seemed to be telling him that nothing had changed.

But the piercing pain in his heart and the throbbing pain in his arm reminded him that everything had changed.

The governor looked at his only remaining hand, opened it, clenched it into a fist, opened it again, clenched it into a fist.

Ultimately, his emotions erupted.

The room was filled with the sounds of various objects being smashed, as well as a man's low growls.

The men standing outside the door cowered with their heads down, trembling all over.

The governor's temper had become much worse; he often beat and scolded them, and they dared not fight back, only able to cover their heads and endure the blows.

After the governor finished venting his anger, he walked out of his office, his hair disheveled, giving him a ruthless, lone wolf-like appearance.

The governor didn't even glance at the people around him before walking away.

The men waited until the governor had walked quite a distance before opening the door and going inside to clean.

The governor walked up to Milton's laboratory and barged in without knocking.

The door slammed against the wall with a bang, startling Milton, who dropped his tools to the floor.

"The Governor?"

Milton called out tentatively.

"It's me," the governor said coldly as he entered.

Milton breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the governor's expression.

The governor came in without saying a word, just staring at Milton, who was filled with dread.

After a moment of stalemate, Milton spoke.

"You still haven't found any news about that group?"

"They hid very well; nothing was discovered."

The governor's words were somewhat disheartening, and Milton didn't know how to comfort him, so he could only offer simple words of comfort.

Suddenly, the governor asked casually, "Milton, you haven't said anything to anyone else, have you?"

"What did you say?" Milton looked up at the governor blankly.

Seeing that look in his eyes, the governor knew that Milton was still Milton, smiled, and the atmosphere relaxed.

He patted Milton on the shoulder. "It's alright, you can focus on your experiment."

Milton only realized that the governor had been testing him after he left the laboratory.

A chill ran through me.

Woodbury was quiet and dark at night, and the two rows of torches that usually lit up the streets were not lit.

The streets were completely dark.

The patrolmen strolled lazily through the streets, each one of them looking tired and sleepy, muttering complaints about the governor.

To avoid any traitors informing on them, everyone was cursing the governor.

They left slowly, leaving behind a trail of gossip.

A petite figure flashed by.