Expelled for Laughing at a Funeral in Zombie Apocalypse

"Ha!" I couldn't hold it in. My facial expression relaxed, and I laughed out loud.

"What was that sound?" The priest was startled by the sudden laughter in the quiet, solemn atmosphere.

A man in a black suit covered his face with a handkerchief, weeping. He was the boss of our shelter company. We all called him Mr. G. Today was his mother's funeral.

Discovering that the funeral proceedings had been interrupted, he put away his sorrowful expression, his face turning iron-blue.

"Someone is causing trouble," the secretary whispered to him.

"Hahaha..." The laughter grew louder. I could no longer control myself.

The people around looked at me with fearful expressions. Their faces were complex—I couldn't tell whether they were infected by my demonic, wild laughter or felt sympathy for what I was about to endure.

"Enough!" Mr. G rushed onto the platform and grabbed the microphone. "This is outrageous! Stop this at once!"

He pointed at me angrily, and everyone looked in the direction of his finger.

Among a sea of dark suits, a man with an explosion of hair, wearing a white lab coat, was laughing uncontrollably, clutching his stomach.

I was laughing so hard I could barely stand, forced to kneel with one hand on the ground for support.

The sound nearly pierced the heavens, as if mocking everything in this world.

The security guards stood stunned until Mr. G kicked one of them viciously. They finally reacted, rushing forward to pin me to the ground and stuffing a rag in my mouth.

"Throw him out! Now! Immediately!" Mr. G said expressionlessly, holding his forehead.

No one dared to breathe loudly, afraid they might be next.

The atmosphere of the funeral was completely ruined by me. Many people bowed their heads, biting their lips—not because they were particularly sad, but because they were afraid of failing to hold back their laughter like me and being punished together.

Some even bit their tongues until they bled, just to suppress their laughter.

My booming laughter echoed from the stairwell—while waiting for the elevator, I had spat out what they'd stuffed in my mouth, and more laughter escaped my throat. "You ignorant fools!" I laughed and shook my head.

"Hey!" Someone finally couldn't hold it in. He grinned and let out a laugh, then immediately realized what stupid thing he'd done. Fortunately, he could still stop.

His expression transformed into painful sobbing in 0.1 seconds. He fell to his knees, beating his chest and stamping his feet. He looked at the photo of the boss's mother, covering his face in tears, as if it were his own mother lying in that coffin.

Mr. G impatiently waved his hand. "Enough! Continue with the proceedings, priest!"

The priest cleared his throat. "May her kind, noble soul rest in heaven. We offer her our purest, highest blessings..."

"Laugh if you want to. I know you almost couldn't hold it in either," I said to the two security guards escorting me.

I noticed that although they held me between them, their free hands were pinching their own thighs, desperately suppressing their laughter.

They didn't understand me, and I understood that. Not everyone could start over like I could.

I didn't know why, but I had the ability to be reborn. Until now, I had been reborn 1,000 times. Each time I died, my consciousness would slowly revive, and when I opened my eyes, I would find myself waking up in the lab among the experimental equipment, time seemingly returning to those days of researching the "zombie virus antidote."

Through 1,000 cycles of reincarnation, I had clearly realized one thing—behind the "zombie virus, zombie vaccine, and zombie antidote," there existed a massive conspiracy. The scientific spirit compelled me to uncover the truth.

So, this should be my 1,001st rebirth? I wondered what method of death awaited me this time.

The elevator descended all the way to the bottom level. There was a garbage disposal hatch here, shaped like a cannon.

They operated the cannon, aiming at the forest several kilometers away.

"I'm very sorry, Dr. Dick." One of them tugged at my explosion of hair and removed my clothes.

"Don't blame us." The fat security guard stuffed a flashlight in my mouth. "Thanks for helping with my birthday before. You should find this useful."

"That's enough!" The thin security guard shook his head. "Outside is full of zombies. If he uses a flashlight, he's definitely asking to die."

"Ready!" They covered their ears.

"3! 2! 1! Fire!"

I was ejected from the garbage cannon like a shooting star, stark naked. I bit down hard on the flashlight in my mouth, no longer daring to laugh.

After tracing a reasonably graceful arc, I struggled to grab onto the crown of the tallest tree in the forest. The acceleration nearly snapped it.

"Thank God!" I wiped away sweat, grateful for this thrilling landing. I didn't want to die from a fall before I'd even started anything this time.

When I steadied myself on the branch, I spat out the flashlight and gripped it in my hand.

On the distant horizon, the apocalyptic fortress towered into the clouds, its iron-black walls impregnable.

I raised my arms and shouted—"Just wait and see! I will prove that my theory is correct!"