Post-Apocalyptic Super Merchant #301-400
Author: 雨水
Date: 2026-03-05T21:27:10+00:00

Chapter 300: Era-Defining Technological Research

The emergence of the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier brought forth even more ideas, holding immeasurable value for the Commercial Association’s future strategic tactics.

Tu Long, of course, wasn’t content with its massive size, yet it could only carry fewer than two hundred various fighter jets, bombers, and armed helicopters. Consider that a super surface aircraft carrier, less than 300 meters long and 40 meters wide, could carry over a hundred fighter jets. The Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier, more than three times its size, showed little improvement in carrying capacity, which greatly dissatisfied Tu Long.

Thus, the design of a new airship-style aircraft carrier became one of Tu Long’s primary objectives.

The Strategic Department also showed keen interest in the airship-style aircraft carrier. After a group discussion, a new type of aircraft carrier with an airship structure was proposed and moved into the feasibility design phase. It would integrate the Commercial Association’s current technological capabilities, with each department providing top experts to form the aircraft carrier’s Design Department, tasked with designing this globally positioned strategic weapon.

The plan, codenamed “Little Bird,” naturally piqued Zhou Yuanqiang’s interest. Although he didn’t fully understand the technicalities, he eagerly inserted himself, personally taking on the role of team leader for the design group.

There was no alternative; as Chairman, if he didn’t act as team leader, who else would dare? However, Zhou Yuanqiang’s strength was that he never meddled in matters he didn’t understand, instead entrusting them to more professional individuals. Though he was the team leader, there were three deputy team leaders who were the core leaders of the entire design group. Zhou Yuanqiang was merely interested in understanding their design process. Even though the final design would eventually land in his hands, Zhou Yuanqiang enjoyed witnessing their gradual perfection during the design phase.

From its inception, the Little Bird design group boasted an immense lineup, with over two hundred elite members from various departments converging to begin the design.

The new airship aircraft carrier, true to its name, employs two airships as its main structural body, between which upper and lower decks will be built. In essence, the two airships act as pontoon bridge supports. This approach effectively handles the airships’ immense carrying capacity. The double deck system provides twice the fighter jet carrying capability, and with intelligent utilization of all available space, its initial carrying capacity reached an astonishing 600 various fighter jets.

Such a massive, new airship aircraft carrier would undoubtedly be the greatest leap in human history.

The only unresolved issue currently was what kind of propulsion system to use for such a colossal behemoth. Using air force fighter jet engines was simply impractical. From an aerodynamic perspective, to make this giant move at 70 kilometers per hour, at least a hundred engines would need to operate simultaneously.

Fighter jet engines consume an astonishing amount of fuel per hour. The consumption of a hundred engines wouldn’t be economical for the Commercial Association. It’s imaginable that if a hundred engines were used for propulsion, at least seventy or eighty tons of aviation fuel would be consumed per hour. At that point, the entire airship aircraft carrier would merely be carrying aviation fuel and couldn’t do anything else.

Therefore, the Little Bird design group first tasked the Commercial Association’s Engine Company with developing a new engine.

Upon receiving the task order personally signed by the Chairman of the Little Bird design group, the entire Engine Company had to halt other engine research and fully dedicate themselves to this project. However, developing new engine technology was no small feat, especially for propelling such a massive vessel while also meeting low-consumption technical requirements. This was extremely difficult.

Previous aircraft carriers could use nuclear energy to provide more powerful propulsion, and a single refueling was enough for a surface aircraft carrier to traverse the globe.

The Commercial Association had already established a Nuclear Energy Department, but this newly formed department consisted of only a few people, an empty shell. Relying on them, one couldn’t expect any benefits from the Nuclear Energy Department for at least two or three years. In short, using nuclear energy as engine fuel was currently out of the question.

Only one new form of energy immediately caught the attention of the Engine Company: crystal energy.

Crystal energy is incredibly versatile; the key lies in how you extract and apply its energy. Its application in electrical energy and bioenergy has had an absolutely immense impact on human thought. No one had anticipated such miraculous performance from crystal energy.

Regarding the Engine Company’s issues, Huang Changnian, being from the Crystal Research Institute, naturally had the most authority on the matter. After refining his previous experiments, he explicitly stated that crystal energy could indeed serve as a propulsion energy source and was comparable to nuclear energy. It was entirely possible to design and manufacture super thrusters based on crystal energy. More importantly, through special fission, crystal energy could also provide sustained power.

Before this, Huang Changnian had already conducted experimental research on the application of crystal energy in machinery. The results showed that crystals, as a new type of energy, could indeed replace all fuel. Even more terrifying was that it could use a special fission device to provide enormous energy, similar to nuclear energy.

Compared to nuclear energy, crystal energy is entirely non-polluting, making it a truly green energy source.

Now, Huang Changnian was somewhat unsure whether this human catastrophe was good or bad. If bad, it probably meant the massive death of humans, almost to the point of extinction. If good, it was probably these small crystals. Their appearance, as he had said before, was absolutely era-defining, changing the entire technological progress of humanity.

Huang Changnian had every reason to believe that he had only uncovered the tip of the iceberg of crystal energy, with much more waiting to be excavated.

Upon receiving Huang Changnian’s reply, the Engine Company’s Design and Research Department immediately began designing. Previously, the energy problem was simply unsolvable. Now, with crystal, this green super energy, a very small amount of crystal fission energy would be all that was needed to power the planned super thruster for an hour, fully aligning with the new airship’s global strategic objective.

Once the Engine Company overcame this problem, the new thruster could naturally proceed, and a definitive answer was given to the Little Bird design group.

In fact, the Little Bird design group did not halt due to the engine problem. Instead, they focused on optimizing the new airship aircraft carrier’s deck, striving for the most reasonable design and maximum utilization of every space. No one in the design group had experience in this area; they were essentially “crossing the river by feeling the stones,” using surface aircraft carrier decks as their sole reference.

However, the deck of the new airship-style aircraft carrier was only 100 meters shorter than the airships acting as pontoons, reaching 860 meters in length. Its width, due to the pontoon-like structural design, reached over 600 meters.

Unlike surface aircraft carriers, the flight deck of an airship-style aircraft carrier doesn’t need to be slightly upward-sloped. Compared to the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier’s 520-meter runway, the Little Bird design group redesigned it, deeming the previous 520 meters a complete waste. This was because an airship-style aircraft carrier could fly at altitudes of tens of thousands of meters, and even without a runway, fighter jets could directly detach from the aircraft carrier and start flying in the air.

The direct purpose of the deck was not for takeoff, but for the recovery of fighter jets. Therefore, a 250-meter runway could completely satisfy this requirement.

Then, after a series of optimizations, the number of fighter jets carried could be significantly increased. Carrying over 600 fighter jets was entirely feasible, and this number might even be surpassed by the final design. However, the hy-2 fighter jet was not specifically designed as a carrier-based aircraft. Therefore, the Commercial Association’s Flight Design Research Department would need to design and manufacture a completely new type of carrier-based aircraft—a bomber suitable for use on aircraft carriers—for the airship-style aircraft carrier.

Now Zhou Yuanqiang finally understood why an aircraft carrier was a massive integration of military technology; almost every component represented a new technological integration and development.

Not only did the engines need specialized development, but even the fighter jets required specialized development. And then, specialized radar systems, offensive missile systems, defensive missile systems, ground defense systems, aerial defense systems, and so on, all needed to be completely redesigned and researched to enhance the airship-style aircraft carrier’s survival and combat capabilities.

Just like surface aircraft carriers that require escorting safety vessels at close range, the airship-style aircraft carrier is no exception.

Theoretically, with ten times the air defense and ground defense capabilities of a surface aircraft carrier, and over ten times the missile attack capability, along with a massive number of carrier-based aircraft, it would be impossible for any fighter jets to break through and approach the airship-style aircraft carrier. But to prevent any unforeseen circumstances, it was still equipped with six warship airships, guarding it in all six directions—front, back, left, right, up, and down—forming its last line of defense.

The entire design plan, drawing on all available manpower from the Commercial Association, progressed with astonishing speed. By the time the design was complete, the zombie offensive wave on the Wilderness Front was also nearing its end. With the support of modern, massive aerial bombs, the air force’s bombing became the primary killing force, sufficient to crush the fourth zombie offensive.

Although there were still nearly ten million zombies on the front, they had broken through the first line of defense and were besieging the second.

However, the second line of defense was 5 meters high, incomparable to the first. So they could only surge against the wall of the defense line, their path completely blocked. Ten million zombies might seem like a lot, but dispersed across hundreds of kilometers of the defense line, they became sparse and posed little threat.

After nearly a month of continuous combat, the soldiers were exhausted. They felt nauseous just by looking at the zombies incessantly clawing at the walls every day. This nausea wasn’t due to the zombies’ disgusting appearance, but from the sheer annoyance and frustration of seeing them.

Anyone who had fought them for over a month, facing their repulsive faces daily, would grow weary.

The ceasefire on the eastern front gave the Commercial Association time to recuperate. With the level one war status lifted, all factories and companies resumed normal operations. Transport airships, laden with goods, once again proceeded along their previously halted routes. The difference this time was that these transport airships were now accompanied by dedicated fighter jets patrolling the routes to ensure their flight safety.

More than a month of trade suspension didn’t just affect the Commercial Association; it had an even greater impact on the various settlements that had already accepted Seven-Colored Currency as their circulating currency.

Many people had converted all their crystals into Seven-Colored Currency, and more than a month of trade disruption made everyone uneasy. Did the Yuanqiang Commercial Association default on its debts? Did it run off after exchanging for crystals? Or was the Yuanqiang Commercial Association conquered by zombies and became history? Or…

Yes, no one wasn’t worried, after all, too many people already had vested interests and were tied to the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

The reason there was no panic was also thanks to the fact that the Commercial Association’s offices continued to operate normally and had not evacuated. Otherwise, the situation could have spiraled out of control, throwing various settlements into chaos long ago.

It’s evident that the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s standing had deeply embedded itself in the hearts of the people in various settlements. The circulation and issuance of Seven-Colored Currency had firmly bound these settlements to the Commercial Association’s war machine. Although the Commercial Association’s “soft power” hadn’t yet fully matured, with its current pace of development, could it really be far off?

The mere issuance and circulation of a currency brought the Commercial Association everything it needed without war—that was the power of “soft power.”

The utilization of crystal energy, and its breakthrough in machinery, was like opening a valve, also opening a brand new door of technology for humanity. Research into crystal engines first led to the super thruster for the airship-style aircraft carrier. With this breakthrough, the Aero Engine Company attempted to apply this technology to ordinary fighter jets.

Unfortunately, direct utilization of crystal energy had an efficiency of less than one percent. It could only provide enormous energy after undergoing special treatment to induce fission. The fission device was also very complex; though not as intricate as a nuclear fission device, it wasn’t far off. The massive volume, and the desire to miniaturize it, had eluded humanity for nearly a century of research, and it was far from something the Aero Engine Company could achieve immediately.

But this was ultimately a goal set by humanity; at least with a goal, there would be hope, it just needed time.

One doesn’t have to worry about crystal energy leaking and causing pollution or radiation. Its green nature and energy output comparable to nuclear energy determine its irreplaceable role. Especially from the super thruster, it gave the Aero Engine Company sufficient inspiration to start developing vertical take-off thrusters, and to formally submit a feasibility proposal for a large aerial transport aircraft to the Aircraft Design Research Department, addressing the current need for escorts for the Commercial Association’s transport airships.

Currently, crystal engines can only be applied to large aerial targets, meaning this large aerial transport aircraft will be a massive behemoth of a transport plane. Its vertical take-off capability will set it apart from traditional transport planes. The key is that the vertical thruster can operate continuously, suspending it in the air like an airship, much like a tray.

Undoubtedly, the emergence of such a transport aircraft would indeed bring greater military value to the air force, and could also be applied to fighter jets, creating gigantic fighter planes.

All of this is still merely in the design phase; achieving it requires a long road ahead. But once the ideas are unleashed, and there’s a fulcrum to support it all, will it be long before the design is completed and it’s manufactured?

Beyond this, crystal, like nuclear fission, boasts an instant energy increase of tens of thousands of times, infinitely expanding its value and completely replacing nuclear energy.

As a newly established Strategic Weapons Research Department, they certainly couldn’t overlook this discovery. They had already begun researching some nuclear weapon technologies. The fissionability of crystal energy, naturally, delighted them. After several experiments, the controllability of crystal energy fission and its instantaneous release had met the requirements for strategic-grade weapons, allowing them to completely abandon nuclear weapon research in favor of developing this new type of crystal strategic-grade weapon.

The power supply issues plaguing Qingyuan City were addressed with the emergence of crystal energy. Its fissionability also led to the preparation of the first crystal energy power plant. Its green and environmentally friendly nature meant it could host more reactors, allowing this crystal energy power plant to supply all the electricity needed by Qingyuan City and Tianzhou City, with a significant surplus.

If nothing unexpected happens, the power industry will become the Commercial Association’s most important profit point moving forward.

One must know that even in Lanxi Plateau, only a few settlements had access to electricity, and even then, its use was very limited. Once night fell, everything still plunged into darkness. As the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, which started with commerce, how could it possibly give up on such a lucrative industry?

No need to mention other more backward settlements; for several years, they had virtually been in a state of primitive society. Expecting them to use electricity?

The mysteries of crystals, up until now, could basically be said to have been fully uncovered. With the discovery of these technologies, the industries that can utilize them will definitely increase, and their impact on humanity will grow stronger and stronger.

However, the fatal flaw of crystals is that they are even less durable than oil; they are finite and will eventually run out.

Each crystal represents a zombie. Billions of zombies worldwide can only provide billions of various crystals of all grades. They are scattered across the globe, controlled by countless factions. With disrupted communication and the constant presence of zombies, no one knows what the outside world is truly like. Perhaps factions in other countries have also uncovered the secrets of crystal utilization?

No one can know all of this; it’s like a mystery that needs to be explored bit by bit.

The importance of crystals compelled the Commercial Association to make collecting crystals its primary strategic objective. But even if you controlled billions of crystals globally, how many years could the consumption of various industries sustain that? Decades, or hundreds of years? And when humanity, accustomed to crystal energy, loses this resource, into what kind of chaos will it plunge?

Huang Changnian naturally understood this, so the Crystal Research Institute’s primary mission was no longer to develop applications for crystal energy, but to research the feasibility of industrially manufacturing crystal energy.

Chapter 301: The Area of Two Provinces

As long as the Commercial Association was given time, no difficulty would remain a difficulty for long.

The machine that was the Commercial Association had been built from the very beginning with the goal of possessing a powerful industrial system. Once that industrial system was perfected, transforming it into a war machine was nothing more than a matter of a single thought. The stalemate at the Wilderness Front was not a situation the Commercial Association wished to see. Having caught its breath, the association began producing a steady stream of ammunition from its armories.

The importance of crystals meant that the Commercial Association could not allow the vast number of crystals lying before the Wilderness Front to remain there. Thus, the goals for the second half of the year were set: eliminate the remaining ten million or so zombies, collect the massive haul of crystals, push their influence across the entire province, incorporate several surviving settlements into their rule, and secure the resources of the whole province.

Having experienced the offensive of this “Great Wave,” the Commercial Association truly recognized its own shortcomings.

What had seemed like a formidable industrial system was actually incapable of providing continuous support during high-intensity warfare. Furthermore, the barrels of the artillery batteries had exposed the Steel Department’s lack of technical prowess in metallurgy. The steel plant would need to be expanded further, as the association’s demand for steel would only increase in the future.

The issues with the armory were even more severe. Its insufficient production capacity had forced the Commercial Association into an extremely passive position. Thus, it went without saying that expansion became the consensus for everyone throughout the association. This didn’t just apply to the armory; other factories needed to expand as well. Even the Armored Vehicle Factory required expansion, as armored forces were designated as the association’s second-highest development priority.

On the second defensive line, the 150,000 soldiers were not withdrawn but remained stationed there. Their daily task was marksmanship training, and their targets were the zombies surging across the vast front. Since the long-range and high-level zombies among them had already been cleared out, their numbers were not particularly terrifying in the absence of a real threat.

Statistically speaking, each soldier only needed to kill a hundred of these ten million zombies to wipe them all out. Against these mindless creatures, this was incredibly simple; it could even be accomplished in a single day.

However, the exhausted soldiers were given a week to rest and reorganize before launching the counteroffensive. Dense gunfire once again echoed across the wilderness, and the zombies that had been clawing and snarling for a week fell one by one as they were struck in the head. This was pure target practice; by noon, there wasn’t a single moving zombie left before the front. Everywhere lay piles upon piles of corpses.

The zombies that had died a month ago had long since turned into mummified husks under the scorching sun. Because their brains had stopped functioning, the crystals could no longer provide them with energy. They emitted a thick, fishy stench that completely permeated the wilderness, a smell that could be caught along the entire front whenever the wind blew.

Regarding the extraction of crystals, the Commercial Association had already formed functional departments. Once all the zombies were neutralized, a large number of harvesters were brought in by transport ships to begin processing the zombie corpses that lined the front for two to three hundred kilometers. After digging out the crystals from their heads, the bodies were gathered for mass cremation, and their ashes were buried deep beneath the wilderness.

Zombies were humans transformed by viral infection. They were rotted and hideous in appearance, but when they truly died from being shot in the head, they weren’t much different from human corpses. To be honest, every time Zhou Yuanqiang saw the harvesters cutting open heads like they were picking fruit and easily plucking out the crystals, he couldn’t help but feel his skin crawl.

If this scene were filmed—the ground covered in corpses and the people harvesting crystals—and shown in the modern world, what a shock it would bring to humanity…

Of course, a massive operation like this wouldn’t be complete without the presence of the great director, Li Xiao. The brave Director Li was no different from an ordinary soldier, eating and drinking right on the front lines. He personally went to the first line to capture the most authentic war scenes and even sent warplanes to film the massive aerial groups at ultra-close range, striving to make this movie an absolute classic.

In private, Director Li wasn’t actually willing to risk his life like this, but how could he not follow the Chairman’s wishes? He had to film, and he had to film with intensity, aiming for a level of quality that would surpass any international standards.

Naturally, a movie was more than just a record of events. It required performances from actors, suspenseful plot points, and more touching and shocking scenes, along with greater use of special effects. However, for Director Li, who had already completed several films, and the experts in the Information Department’s special effects division, these things were second nature.

Zhou Yuanqiang admitted he was a bit wicked, squeezing out every bit of profit he could.

Who would turn down money? The first Doomsday Storm had earned 800 million dollars, and the second was currently in theaters, expected to bring in over 1.2 billion. As for the third installment, it was the grandest in scale—be it the number of actors, the number of warplanes, the scale of the zombies, the filming techniques, or its authenticity, it surpassed the previous two. Could profit even be a question?

From this, one could see that Zhou Yuanqiang had indeed become a qualified businessman. If he learned to squeeze his employees’ wages just a little bit more, he would be well on his way to becoming an outstanding one.

However, when he thought about his employees’ salaries, even Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bit embarrassed. Aside from three meals a day, many employees only received one or two hundred Seven-Colored Currency in wages. although the purchasing power of Seven-Colored Currency was strong, that amount was still very, very low. If there were some kind of international labor department, he’d likely be sued as a black-hearted businessman for over-exploiting his workers.

Fortunately, this level of treatment didn’t cause dissatisfaction among the employees in the apocalypse. Having experienced years of starvation, they had learned to cherish everything they had. He remembered that in the beginning, the life goal for countless people was simply to have a full stomach. Now they ate well, dressed well, lived in a safe environment, and even received a salary—what was there to be dissatisfied with?

Of course, as the Commercial Association developed, prices would surely rise, and he would eventually need to gradually increase their benefits.

If you want the horse to run, you have to let it graze well. Zhou Yuanqiang understood this universal truth.

Once the zombies at the Wilderness Front were annihilated, the entirety of the province beyond the wilderness lay empty. The villages, towns, and cities were all deserted. To put it bluntly, it was like a woman lying there, making eyes at you and waiting for you to enter, without a shred of resistance or defense.

An entire empty province was the Commercial Association’s greatest reward after the war. The resources of a single city had already allowed the association to adjust and develop for over a year; now, the resources of an entire province made the Commercial Association feel like a nouveau riche. With so many materials and the industry of a whole province, everyone believed the Commercial Association was about to take off like it had been fitted with rocket boosters.

This was a hard-won harvest, so the Commercial Association immediately organized personnel and resources to begin moving materials out of these cities. If they let someone else get there first, it would be a huge joke.

Qingyuan City’s geographical location wasn’t particularly good, the environment was harsh, and it was merely an emerging second-tier city. Compared to other first-tier cities, there was a significant gap. To this end, some within the Commercial Association proposed taking this opportunity to move the headquarters to a more suitable city.

To be honest, the proposal was very attractive. As soon as it was raised, many people voiced their support. Compared to pleasant, scenic metropolitan cities, Qingyuan City’s disadvantages were obvious—particularly the daytime temperatures, which stayed between 32 and 35 degrees, making it very hot. Outside the city in the vast wilderness, temperatures regularly exceeded 40 degrees.

At night, the city temperature would drop to between 8 and 15 degrees. Every household spent the night under thick quilts all year round; you would never see anyone sleeping in shorts with their limbs splayed out as they would in summer.

This alternation between hot and cold was too extreme. Those who had lived here before were used to it, but people who had fled from other regions struggled to adapt. If not for the threat of the apocalypse, they wouldn’t have stayed here for so long.

However, as soon as this proposal reached Zhou Yuanqiang’s hands, he rejected it outright.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s reply was a simple sentence: “Don’t you all find it troublesome?”

Yes, that simple sentence was enough to shut many people up. It seemed safe now, but what about the future? Without the barrier of the wilderness climate, zombies would roam recklessly and run rampant. And would these currently empty regions truly be better? Even if they moved, what if they later conquered coastal international metropolises like Shenzhen or Shanghai? Would someone then jump up and suggest moving to those cities with even better facilities?

How much time would be wasted moving back and forth? How much trouble would it cause, and for how long would it interrupt the Commercial Association’s operations?

The Chairman’s underlying meaning was simply for everyone to wait a while longer. Once they occupied a city that could truly serve as a permanent headquarters, they would move once and for all.

A crowd of sycophants began praising the Chairman’s foresight and legendary wisdom…

In truth, they had no idea that what Zhou Yuanqiang was actually thinking when he rejected it was how much manpower and resources moving would cost. When converted, that was a lot of money! Everyone had gotten used to living there over the few years anyway; it wouldn’t kill them to put up with it a bit longer. There it was—the face of a miserly businessman, exposed in all its glory.

Still, though, once they occupied places like Shanghai, moving the headquarters would indeed be a wonderful thing. But dammit, Shanghai was still ten thousand miles away; it was too far!

Setting aside all impracticalities, the priority was to secure their current interests. Thus, Zhou Yuanqiang tracked down Chen Jianliang of the Logistics Department and gave Old Chen a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Old Chen,” he said, “when there’s a naked woman right there, if you don’t put some effort into taking her, do you prefer one who’s all bundled up and fights you back?”

“Lord have mercy! How does the Boss know I visited the Lily Flower Shop yesterday? Logically, he shouldn’t know; that’s not his style!”

The conflicted Chen Jianliang thought of Xu Yuhai, the intelligence chief who claimed he could know the color and size of anyone’s underwear in five minutes. Chen felt his skin crawl and started to get depressed. “It couldn’t be that that bastard filmed me fighting for seven hundred rounds, performing with ‘kingly majesty’ and ending with a climatic scene, and then gave a series of recordings to the Boss… Heavens! Xu Yuhai, I’m going to kill you!”

Regardless, Old Chen grabbed Zhou Yuanqiang and began crying out his grievances with snot and tears. “Boss, I only go to the Lily Flower Shop once a month! It’s really only once a month! People like Mu Gushan and Zhao Hongyuan go way more often; they go almost twice a week! Boss, forgive me! I’ll change, I’ll definitely change! I’m never going back!”

Zhou Yuanqiang stood there dazed, staring at Chen Jianliang and blinking repeatedly.

The “Lily Flower Shop”—Zhou Yuanqiang had certainly heard of the name. In the apocalypse, where men outnumbered women, such places for men to blow off steam were naturally famous. Although these “physical laborers” weren’t exactly socially recognized… Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t really control it. If he ordered them closed by force, wouldn’t countless men with nowhere to vent eventually turn on him instead?

So, the Lily Flower Shop operated openly, legally, and… damn, even Zhou Yuanqiang wanted to go see what made it so attractive.

Shaking these thoughts from his head, Zhou Yuanqiang gave Chen Jianliang a reassuring look, then shrugged helplessly. “Old Chen, I was talking about the empty cities waiting for your Logistics Department to move. What I said was just a small metaphor. But seriously, you should find a decent woman and start a family. Places like that… if something were to happen, given the current medical level of the association, you figure it out for yourself!”

Chen Jianliang shuddered again and stared at Zhou Yuanqiang like an idiot. Damn it, I really confessed without being asked this time. It’s still Xu Yuhai’s fault! Why is his grandmother-level reputation so loud? Why is he the Boss’s number one henchman? Why haven’t I even made it into the top five?

“Yes, yes, yes, the Boss is right. That place isn’t good after all. If I caught some disease or other, I wouldn’t even have a place to go cry about it.”

Chen Jianliang immediately changed the subject. “As for moving supplies, our Logistics Department can completely handle the situation. We will definitely increase our efforts. We won’t leave even a single screw behind for you, Boss! We absolutely won’t let the shells produced by your hard-earned money go to waste. We’ll make sure every fen you spend is worth it. Saving every fen for the Boss is the highest goal of our Logistics Department! For the Boss—”

“Alright, alright, your flattery is giving me goosebumps,” Zhou Yuanqiang waved his hand. “Leave. I only looked for you because I wanted you to hurry things up.”

When Chen Jianliang stepped out of the Chairman’s office, he felt his back was cold and damp, truly spooked by the Boss’s “guidance.” In this day and age, even condoms weren’t reliable. Business was so good at the Lily Flower Shop that the chance of “winning the prize” was too high. If something happened, given that the People’s Hospital could only treat minor ailments, catching something would be a tragedy—one that people would laugh their heads off at.

“I need to tell Mu Gushan and the others… yeah, I’ll say it’s the Boss’s highest directive…”

Under Zhou Yuanqiang’s pressure, the fearful Chen Jianliang naturally mobilized more people, even sending the odd-job workers. He boarded a transport airship and flew toward the empty cities. However, with just the people from the Logistics Department, who knew how many years it would take to move an entire city? So, under Chen Jianliang’s use of the Boss’s name, every department had to give the green light, lending their extra personnel to the Logistics Department to speed up the collection of materials.

The 150,000 troops on the front lines returned to their military bases to rest as soon as the fighting ended.

The new recruits, who had just finished a month of training, were “bought” by Chen Jianliang with a few packs of his prized rare cigarettes given to Qiu Guorui, the military head. Their first mission was to serve as security for the “Locust Brigade” of the Logistics Department, clearing out the few remaining zombies to ensure the transport work could proceed smoothly.

While the cities were largely empty, they weren’t entirely devoid of zombies. There were still some stragglers left behind, though not in great numbers. Fifty thousand new recruits were more than enough to ensure there would be no problems. Their job was to clear out the zombies before the Logistics Department’s Locust Brigade arrived.

Accepting the packs of rare cigarettes, Qiu Guorui actually wanted to laugh. He had already intended to use this for training, yet he had managed to score some good cigarettes out of it.

Chen Jianliang controlled the Logistics Department, the most lucrative of all departments, yet he was famously stingy. Usually, getting a single cigarette out of him was difficult; these few packs of rare cigarettes were a major sacrifice for him. For that alone, Qiu Guorui could be in a good mood for several days—it was a rare feat within the Commercial Association!

The entire month of July was spent by the Commercial Association moving materials. Massive quantities of steel, electronic products, various precious metals, and a huge array of other supplies were carried by the Locust Brigade and piled onto the boundless wilderness outside Qingyuan City. Anything that could be exposed to the elements was stacked there. The reason? The warehouses and Qingyuan City itself simply couldn’t fit it all.

With the existence of the Hercules transport airships, the Locust Brigade didn’t even pass up scrap cars, hauling them all back to the outskirts of Qingyuan City and dumping them in the wilderness for future use. Chen Jianliang truly lived up to what he had told Zhou Yuanqiang—he wouldn’t let even a single screw go. If it existed, they moved it… moved it… and moved it.

By this point, the area under the Commercial Association’s rule had reached the size of two provinces!

Chapter 302: Upgrading and Expansion

The busy atmosphere within the Commercial Association was one of administrative hustle, not the frantic panic of war.

With an entire province serving as a buffer zone and the slow movement speed of the zombies, the Association—aided by their tightened reconnaissance and surveillance—had at least a month of breathing room. The advantage of this was that it gave the Association ample time to prepare for any crisis, allowing them to decide whether to stand and fight or evacuate.

Following the training exercises that had attracted the Bird Zombies, Xu Yuhai had submitted a list of applications. These included research and development for upgrading UAVs, the expansion of the Intelligence Department, more reconnaissance airships, and a massive quantity of ground-based wireless monitors. In short, Xu Yuhai was dead set on taking his Intelligence Department to the next level. He was no longer satisfied with just aerial reconnaissance; he intended to establish ground-based scouting units as well.

Xu Yuhai had already put the word out: once the Intelligence Department was upgraded, its response efficiency would drop from a five-minute window to just two minutes.

This single statement sent the entire Commercial Association into a tizzy. This guy could already find out someone’s underwear color and size in five minutes—was he still not satisfied? Now, thanks to the Boss’s harsh criticism, the results were showing. Hearing that “two-minute” promise, more than a few people instinctively adjusted their waistbands. If that madman ever claimed he could steal anyone’s underwear within two minutes, things would really get out of hand.

Since Xu Yuhai’s words often served as a weather vane for the Association’s trends, many women stopped openly drying their lingerie and matching sets on their balconies. Who knew if the previously missing underwear had been stolen by Xu Yuhai’s men? Some poor souls had their items snatched just moments after hanging them up—while they were still warm—giving those lackeys a free sample of their faint body fragrance.

For a time, the brilliant and formidable intelligence chief found himself saddled with a string of lecherous nicknames that threatened to overshadow his fearsome reputation.

In truth, it wasn’t just the Intelligence Department. Many departments had submitted upgrade reports. The problems exposed during the recent attack necessitated department-wide upgrades, additional personnel, and solutions to a series of encountered issues.

Looking at the thick stack of applications on his desk, Zhou Yuanqiang was dumbfounded.

Personnel were already scarce in the apocalypse; there were shortages everywhere. With so many requests for expansion, where was he supposed to find the people? If it were supplies, he could just buy them in the modern world and bring them over. But people… Damn it, the ring didn’t allow him to transport living things. He was out of options.

Rubbing his temples, Zhou Yuanqiang realized he was doing that more and more lately. No wonder they said those in power aged quickly from overthinking; there were simply too many difficult matters to handle. This wasn’t a good sign. He only governed a territory the size of a piece of tofu, and it was already this much trouble. If his territory grew larger and his population increased, wouldn’t he work himself to death?

Seeing Zhou Yuanqiang leaning back in his chair with his eyes rolling back, Ren Xinyun, who was standing nearby, couldn’t help but giggle. Very few people in the entire Association had ever seen him make such a face.

In reality, the core problem of the Association was its population. Previously, the various departments functioned appropriately, and the distribution of resources was balanced. However, the attack by over a hundred million zombies had exposed too many flaws. Most importantly, the armory needed to triple in size immediately. The necessary personnel could only be drawn from other departments, so it was no surprise everyone was screaming for more staff.

“Looks like I’ll have to find a way to snatch… er, no, ‘attract’ some more people over here.”

Zhou Yuanqiang rubbed his hands together, his gaze falling once more upon the newly drawn map in his office. It marked all currently explored regions and the locations of various settlements. Each settlement was labeled with its population and combat strength, allowing one to see exactly what they wanted at a glance.

“The 50,000 people at Maple Leaf Town are all tough fighters. Now that the east is clear of zombies, we can have them migrate here. Then there’s this spot; these scattered settlements add up to about 100,000 people. We can have the troops ‘invite’ them over. And here, here, and here—these three places. All in all, we can scrape together about 300,000 people, which should ease the population crisis a bit.”

Zhou Yuanqiang stroked his chin, calculating as he paced before the map. When his eyes landed on the blood-red text marking approximately three million people on the Lanxi Plateau, he shook his head with a bitter smile.

The Association needed people, but the time wasn’t yet right to pluck the fruit of the Lanxi Plateau. He needed to wait a bit longer for it to ripen. Then there were the various factions to the north under the General. Through the infiltration of the Intelligence Department, their combined population had been estimated at roughly 2.6 million.

Counting the scattered settlements in other regions, about half of the remaining twenty million survivors were now visible on his map.

The map showed a three-way standoff. White represented the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s sphere of influence, green represented the Lanxi Plateau forces, and red represented the northern forces. The colors also indicated their stance: Lanxi Plateau was friendly, while the northern factions had rejected the Association’s requests for established trade and currency circulation.

Despite multiple attempts, the other side welcomed trade with open arms but strictly forbade the Association’s currency from circulating locally. Their firm stance suggested they were well aware of the dangers of “soft knives” and economic subversion.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t in a hurry. For now, they were being suppressed by the zombies. Although the General’s Crystal Warrior units were growing larger and he had shifted from seizing county seats to seizing major cities, his development was still lagging far behind. Even if he secured city supplies, what of it? Building a “Steel Legion” wasn’t something that could be done overnight.

Zhou Yuanqiang had spent a massive amount of effort and utilized the vast resources of the modern world to acquire all sorts of machinery and equipment. It had taken him over a year to reach this stage.

Zhou Yuanqiang truly didn’t believe the other side could develop faster than someone like him who possessed a literal cheat code. Moreover, while they were developing, he was too. Having the resources of an entire province would only cause the gap between them to widen, eventually leaving the General in the dust.

Still, certain targeted preparations were necessary. For those who refused the circulation of the Association’s currency, he naturally had to deploy more spies. He needed to keep every one of their movements firmly within his grasp. Only then could he develop in peace.

Zhou Yuanqiang had no intention of suppressing them out of spite, but he knew the history of the apocalypse well. Wars were often triggered by the lust for power. For various reasons, two factions might engage in a life-or-death struggle even while surrounded by zombies. He didn’t necessarily want to rule everything, but the problem was that others wouldn’t see it that way.

The best way to ensure peace was to make sure the entire continent had only one voice—his voice. Only then would there be no war or internal strife. Only then could he safely generate massive wealth, earn more money, and expand the Association’s territory.

Naturally, he assumed the other side had sent intelligence agents of their own. He needed to tell that fellow Xu Yuhai to be more vigilant. If someone infiltrated a key department without being noticed, the fearsome intelligence chief would likely die of embarrassment.

He had Ren Xinyun note down the scattered settlements he had circled on the map. She naturally understood what needed to be done.

While matters in the post-apocalyptic Commercial Association were buzzing with activity, they couldn’t be resolved overnight. The primary goal was to bring the 300,000 people from those settlements under control so that various departments could draw personnel for their upgrades and reorganizations. This would likely take a month or two. Barring any accidents, this period would be another time for him to keep his head down and amass wealth.

Returning to the steel plant in the northern suburbs of Mogadishu, Somalia, it was already night, unlike the afternoon in the apocalypse.

The entire steel plant was a hive of activity. Patrol teams were everywhere, and laser searchlights swept across the tops of the walls. A massive armed force was more than enough to ensure security. Since the plant’s inception, though al-Shabaab and the Transitional Government fought frequently, the flames of war rarely extended to the northern suburbs.

It wasn’t because the al-Shabaab members were kind-hearted; it was because Zhou Yuanqiang’s US dollars were working. al-Shabaab was dirt poor, and Zhou’s money was incredibly attractive. To get more weapons to arm more men, they naturally knew how to behave once they had taken the cash.

The steel plant, established since the New Year, had grown in scale thanks to the machinery Zhou Yuanqiang brought over periodically from the apocalypse. Within the 6,600-hectare industrial park lived nearly 10,000 employees and over 1,000 armed personnel. For a sparsely populated country like Somalia, a population of 10,000 was equivalent to a second-tier city.

In Mogadishu, the northern suburbs where the steel plant was located began to bustle. Various vendors seeking a living started gravitating toward the plant.

Everyone knew that the steel plant’s benefits were the best in central Somalia. Everyone who worked there had pockets full of money. Most importantly, the Boss was a high-ranking military officer who paid wages on time and never defaulted.

The various rumors circulating were enough to fill a thick novel.

Because of this, every able-bodied man in central Somalia who met the previous recruitment criteria was rubbing his hands in anticipation, waiting for the plant to hire again. In particular, the soldiers under this Major could receive a $50 subsidy, which was enough to tempt any young man in Somalia.

Currently, the steel plant only occupied a small portion of the 6,600 hectares. More factories were being built. Zhou Yuanqiang’s goal was simple: to create a comprehensive industrial park. Everything in this park was being prepared to be converted into a military-industrial complex. If necessary, all it would take was a quick shift to turn it into a massive cluster of armories.

While 6,600 hectares seemed like a lot, it was actually a bit small for Zhou Yuanqiang’s plans.

So, after throwing down another $500,000, several al-Shabaab leaders in central Somalia simply sold him a vast stretch of land adjacent to the steel plant. For al-Shabaab, land was plentiful; there was wasteland everywhere, and almost all of it was unclaimed. That $500,000 was essentially money for nothing. As they counted the cash, they cursed Zhou Yuanqiang for being a fool.

Thus, Zhou Yuanqiang had an excuse to start hiring again. He partitioned off a large section of the newly acquired land near the coast. Under a total lockdown, he began constructing a small shipyard.

Somali pirates were certainly famous; very few people hadn’t heard of them. The long coastline made Somalia the country with the longest coastline in Africa. The tragedy, however, was that Somalia had almost no navy. The coastal waters were treated like international waters—ships came and went as they pleased without needing any permission from a Somali navy.

Customs was essentially non-existent. The vast majority of ships never docked at Somali ports; only a tiny fraction ever arrived at the few existing harbors.

In the modern world, everyone understood the importance of a navy. A navy’s strength often represented a nation’s power. Even the air force took a backseat to the navy in terms of strategic reach. The reason was simple: range was the air force’s weakness, necessitating the navy as a springboard. Since the Earth is mostly covered by oceans, a navy can appear in almost any corner of the globe—something an air force cannot achieve.

Although a small shipyard wouldn’t do much at first, Zhou Yuanqiang needed a platform for research and development. If he could develop an airship-based aircraft carrier, what else was impossible?

Between the bustle and the brief moments of leisure, Zhou Yuanqiang realized he had been away from his family for too long. Furthermore, Yan Yuhe had been quite mysterious in her calls, urging him to come back. Thus, after arranging everything in Somalia, Zhou took a flight back to City S.

Even the capital of Somalia, Mogadishu, felt desolate and lacked skyscrapers. So, upon returning to City S, the noise hitting his ears, the heavy traffic outside the airport, and the dense crowds were all incredibly welcoming.

“There’s really no place like home and one’s own country!”

Just as he let out a sigh of sentiment, he saw Yan Yuhe smiling at him near the airport exit. Not having seen her for several months, she exuded even more mature feminine charm. She wore a sexy silk top with spaghetti straps, and her long legs were encased in fine-mesh fishnet stockings paired with high heels. Almost every man walking out of the airport was stealing glances at her.

Poor Zhou Yuanqiang. Ren Xinyun and Jiao’er were no longer enough to satisfy his powerful physical constitution. Despite working hard every night, he still felt half-starved. Now, suddenly seeing Yan Yuhe in such an alluring outfit—with her bra peeking through the silk camisole and her explosive figure—he felt a distinct surge of heat in his lower half.

“What are you looking at? Don’t you recognize me?”

Seeing the look of masculine conquest in Zhou Yuanqiang’s startled eyes, Yan Yuhe couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride.

Women were like that. For the person they liked, they wanted the other to see everything. But for someone they didn’t like, even a casual glance would make them frown. Of course, shamelessly promiscuous women were an exception, as they wished every man would look at them.

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “You know my standards. If it isn’t beautiful, I usually don’t look. The fact that I’m staring naturally means a goddess has appeared.”

Yan Yuhe pursed her lips and laughed. “I knew you were a smooth talker. No wonder no one likes you.” She glanced around and realized she was attracting more and more eyes. Although she was used to it, she still frowned slightly. “You’ve been on several flights; you must be tired. Let’s get home quickly.”

Men are strange creatures; they don’t like others looking at what’s theirs, yet they love looking at what belongs to others. It was a classic case of wanting what they had while eyeing what was in the pot.

Zhou Yuanqiang was no exception. In his mind, Yan Yuhe was already his woman. Although they hadn’t shared any deep “communication” yet, it was bound to happen eventually; it was only a matter of time. Therefore, he didn’t want the sexy Yan Yuhe to be ogled by too many men. He nodded, walked over to take her hand, and led her outside.

Yan Yuhe didn’t pull away. She asked, “Is the steel output enough? Do you want me to help you find more orders?”

“It’s just a small steel plant. Five thousand tons is enough to keep us busy.” Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and gave the hand of this woman—who was always thinking of him—a squeeze. “Right now, I’m communicating with the local tribes. I plan to focus on exporting raw ore. Many countries buy that in bulk. Compared to a steel plant, it’s a much faster way to make money.”

Yan Yuhe had been paying close attention to Somalia. She hadn’t had much of a concept of the country before, but she was very familiar with it now.

“Yuanqiang, Somalia is still too dangerous. There are too many instances of people crossing the bridge then demolishing it. What if they wait for you to build everything up and then use some trumped-up charges to deport you? What will you do then? Our domestic economy is strengthening now, shaking off the shadow of the financial crisis. There are plenty of opportunities here. Why don’t you just come back?”

Zhou Yuanqiang simply smiled. He didn’t explain, didn’t argue, and didn’t refuse.

In the modern world, almost no one could guess what he was actually doing. Even those who were suspicious were fooled by his businessman persona. Within his military training base, the layers of security and defense made it nearly impossible for anyone to infiltrate. Signal jammers running 24/7 kept the entire base in a communications blackout. While this made people suspicious, his identity as a merchant—combined with several failed reconnaissance attempts by others—eventually led them to give up.

“Yuhe, why did you ask me to come back this time?”

Yan Yuhe sat in the driver’s seat. After Zhou Yuanqiang sat in the passenger seat and closed the door, she started the car and pulled out of the airport parking lot. Then she blinked and said, “My birthday is in half a month. My parents want to make a big deal out of it. They also want to introduce me to some ‘excellent’ men they know.”

Zhou Yuanqiang was stunned. “And you mean…?”

Yan Yuhe thought for a moment before making up her mind. “I want you to come back with me. I want to introduce you to my parents…”

Chapter 303: Prosperous Shanghai

“You… you’re not joking, are you?”

Zhou Yuanqiang blinked piteously, clearly stunned by this sudden and somewhat blissful news. He stammered, “We… we’ve only held hands. You haven’t even officially agreed to be my girlfriend yet. We… we haven’t even kissed, and you want me to meet your parents? This… isn’t this too fast?”

Seeing that there were no cars ahead, Yan Yuhe leaned over and gave Zhou Yuanqiang’s lips a light, fleeting kiss. She let out a soft laugh and said, “Now, can we say we’ve kissed? Don’t be ungrateful. Do you have any idea how much pressure I’m under by bringing you to meet my parents? By your current standards, you don’t even meet one-tenth of what my parents expect.”

Zhou Yuanqiang touched his lips, looking somewhat dissatisfied. “That—that counts as a kiss? In my mind, we should at least have a French kiss or something for it to count. This… this doesn’t count. Why don’t you pull the car over so we can properly discuss the technical aspects of kissing?”

Looking at Zhou Yuanqiang’s lewd expression, Yan Yuhe simply rolled her eyes and continued driving testily.

“Where are you living now?”

Yan Yuhe felt like a bit of a failure. She had fallen in love with this man, yet she didn’t even know where he lived, and there were so many things she didn’t understand about him. Throughout the year, they had both been busy with their own careers; sometimes they wouldn’t see each other for two or three months, keeping in touch only through occasional phone calls.

In short, Zhou Yuanqiang felt like a complete enigma to Yan Yuhe—mysterious and incredibly attractive. Perhaps her ability to fall in love with him despite their difference in social status had something to do with this. Wasn’t it said that the more mysterious a man is, the more he fascinates women?

Zhou Yuanqiang thought for a moment and said, “Actually, my parents are also in City S. How about you drop me off at home and meet them as well?”

Since it was confirmed that Yan Yuhe accepted him, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t want to hide anything. At the very least, showing her where he lived could give her a sense of security. Ever since he learned of the Yan Corporation’s existence, Zhou Yuanqiang understood that based on his public persona, he was indeed a toad trying to eat swan meat; the gap in their status was enormous.

Of course, “public” did not include his secrets from the apocalypse—those, Zhou Yuanqiang intended to take to his grave. What he wanted Yan Yuhe to know was simply the villa where he resided. He wanted to prove he wasn’t a man of no means; owning such a large villa proved he had some foundation.

Yan Yuhe hesitated for a moment before nodding. But when she heard the address Zhou Yuanqiang gave, her eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly.

“Is there a problem?” Zhou Yuanqiang asked.

“Are you sure that’s where you live?” Yan Yuhe was utterly shocked. She felt Zhou Yuanqiang was becoming more and more mysterious. The place he mentioned was an area where the upper crust of City S resided—the wealthy and the powerful. Any residence there would cost at least tens of millions. How could Zhou Yuanqiang, who always kept a low profile and didn’t even own a car, live there?

Zhou Yuanqiang gave a bitter smile. “Do you think I’d get my own home address wrong?”

It wasn’t until Zhou Yuanqiang directed Yan Yuhe into a massive villa estate and she saw the security guards’ attitude toward him that she finally believed he truly lived there. She realized she understood this guy less and less.

Upon hearing the servant’s report that their son was back and had brought a beautiful girlfriend, Su Lan and Zhou Anpu were overjoyed. Only Zhou Xiaojing was out playing; otherwise, with her personality, she would have rushed out long ago.

To show their enthusiasm, Su Lan and Zhou Anpu walked to the garage to welcome their son and their potential daughter-in-law.

Yan Yuhe’s outfit was sexy, but to Su Lan, who had lived in the countryside for a long time, it was a bit too revealing. In the words of the elderly, she looked like a vixen. Although Zhou Anpu had a more open personality, even he frowned slightly, wondering if a woman who wore so little was… loose.

Their original enthusiasm naturally cooled quite a bit, but they remained very polite, smiling as they watched the two walk out of the garage.

“Yuhe, these are my parents, Su Lan and Zhou Anpu.” Zhou Yuanqiang introduced them, then pulled Yan Yuhe forward. “This is Yan Yuhe.” He scratched his head. “My… girlfriend, I guess.”

With Zhou Yuanqiang’s sharp eyes, he could naturally see that the smiles on his parents’ faces were tinged with a bit of dissatisfaction. Considering their traditional views, there was nothing he could do. An outfit he found sexy and appealing represented a lack of propriety in their eyes. The generational gap wasn’t something that could be bridged by living in the city for a year or two.

Yan Yuhe was, after all, a young lady from a prestigious family. Her manners were impeccable, which helped her regain some points in their eyes.

However, when she saw a large vegetable patch in the beautiful courtyard, she was momentarily stunned, finding it quite bizarre.

Zhou Yuanqiang gave a wry smile. “You know I used to be a country boy. My parents worked the land their whole lives; they’re used to it and can’t stay idle. Besides, they don’t know anyone in the city, especially in this area, so their only hobby is planting some vegetables and tilling the soil.”

Yan Yuhe nodded. “I can understand that. My father is the same; he can never stay idle. No matter how late he gets home, he has to keep working for a while. He once said that once a person slackens, they become uncomfortable all over, losing their past shrewdness and judgment. I suppose there’s a common ground there.”

In reality, rural people, even those with humble mindsets, value social matching. Since their son was now a billionaire, Su Lan, after sitting down, naturally unleashed the gossiping power of a rural woman. She grilled Yan Yuhe about her family background and so on—she had to vet her for her son, after all.

But when she heard about Yan Yuhe’s family background, she suddenly couldn’t ask any more questions. She realized that her billionaire son was no different from a poor boy in front of others. It wasn’t that she wasn’t good enough for her son; it was likely that her son wasn’t good enough for her.

However, there were gains. At least Su Lan and her husband’s impression of Yan Yuhe changed significantly. Her clothes might be a bit “vixen-like,” but she was a city girl, and that was forgivable—after all, plenty of girls on the street wore even less. Furthermore, Yan Yuhe’s personality was genuinely likable; she wasn’t pretentious, and she was beautiful… They truly couldn’t find a reason to oppose such a potential daughter-in-law.

During the meal, Zhou Xiaojing returned. The family was naturally happy together. The meal was light, consisting of the green vegetables from the courtyard.

Yan Yuhe stayed until the afternoon before leaving, but this time Zhou Yuanqiang drove her home. It was clear she was very happy. “This feeling is something I’ve never had before,” she said. “It’s truly wonderful. No social climbing, no sarcasm, no flattery—just complete freedom.”

Zhou Yuanqiang just smiled. “Are you more at ease now? No more anxiety in your heart?”

Nodding, Yan Yuhe didn’t deny it. She just stared intently at Zhou Yuanqiang. “How many more things are you hiding from me? When you were a Consultant at the company, you only made tens of thousands a month. How could you afford a house worth tens of millions?”

“If you’re willing to give me a real kiss for once, I’ll tell you!”

Of course, the reply he got was: “Go jump in a lake! We’ll discuss that after I pass the test with my parents.”

Zhou Yuanqiang stayed in City S for a week, mainly to handle some affairs for the trading company. Various departments of the Commercial Association needed expansion, and the Commercial Association lacked the capacity to manufacture certain equipment, so they had to be purchased in the modern world. However, having secured the resources of an entire province, he believed that soon they could completely break their dependence on the modern world and switch to exporting goods to it instead.

As Yan Yuhe’s birthday approached, her parents called several times a day to urge her back. Left with no choice, Zhou Yuanqiang accompanied Yan Yuhe on a flight to Shanghai.

Zhou Yuanqiang had no real impression of Shanghai; what he knew was limited to the tip of the iceberg seen in news and newspapers. As for his number of visits to Shanghai, it was zero. For this, the largest international financial metropolis in the country and one of its most famous cities, his deepest impression was probably stuck on the Oriental Pearl Tower… There was no helping it; Zhou Yuanqiang simply didn’t care about places too far from him. In his own words, he was just a commoner who only cared about his own limited surroundings.

The flight from City S to Shanghai was only two hours, which was very short.

When the flight landed at Pudong International Airport, it was still morning.

Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bit sentimental. No wonder rich people could travel a thousand miles for business and still have their families expect them back for dinner. The reason? It was the convenience of air travel. As long as the timing was right, they could be home in an hour or two. Preparing a meal also took an hour or two—the timing was perfect. For them, spending several thousand on a flight was no different than a regular person dropping a buck or two on a bus.

Upon arriving in Shanghai, Zhou Yuanqiang, a local expert in City S, became as blind as a bat. He looked at the smiling Yan Yuhe and said, “We’re on your turf now. I’m counting on you to show me the high life from now on.”

Shanghai held too many records: the largest city on the mainland, the largest industrial city, the largest foreign trade port, and so on. There were simply too many “mosts” to count.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, City S already had enough people, but Shanghai had even more. Just the airport alone was a sea of moving heads. Outside the airport, the interlocking streams of traffic had almost no gaps. The bustling noise of prosperity replaced all other sounds; his ears were filled with a constant humming.

“Damn, if the Commercial Association wants to retake Shanghai in the future, with a population of over twenty million—plus the floating population—how the hell are we going to manage? Shanghai is a great place, though. Ultra-modern architectural concepts, a perfect structural system, and a powerful industrial system… using bombs isn’t the best option. Do we really have to rely on ground troops to slowly grind down the zombies inside to retake Shanghai without destroying it? But the casualties would definitely be heavy… This is a real headache!”

Unconsciously, Zhou Yuanqiang’s thoughts had begun to leap through space again.

“Are you starstruck?”

It wasn’t until Yan Yuhe’s voice called out that Zhou Yuanqiang snapped back to reality, doing nothing but laughing awkwardly.

A burly man dressed casually stood before a pink Lamborghini. Seeing Yan Yuhe exit, he nodded and said, “Miss, your car is here.”

Yan Yuhe simply gave a slight nod, opened the door, and signaled for Zhou Yuanqiang to get in. Then, she started the engine and merged into the flow of traffic.

Zhou Yuanqiang pointed to the burly man still standing behind them. “Aren’t you giving him a ride?”

Yan Yuhe shook her head with a wry smile. “If I gave him a ride and my father found out, he’d lose his job. Don’t worry, he has a car; he’ll be following behind us in a moment. He’s been my family’s bodyguard for several years now; he knows the rules.”

“Aren’t bodyguards supposed to wear black suits and ties with sunglasses? This doesn’t feel right.”

Yan Yuhe burst out laughing. “Have you been watching too many movies? Do bodyguards always have to look like that? Actually, in this heat, don’t you think it’s better to dress more casually? A black suit doesn’t improve their abilities. Of course, for some important occasions, they still have to wear the suit and tie you mentioned for the sake of propriety.”

Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head with a bitter smile. “You ‘upper-class’ people lead such complicated lives. Simple things are turned into a mess.”

This was Zhou Yuanqiang’s first time in a sports car. Although there were plenty of cars in the apocalypse and he could have whatever he wanted, the problem was that he had much cooler helicopters. Who would bother with sports cars? That was old-fashioned. If he wanted the thrill of speed, that was no problem; there were over a thousand fighter jets at the military base, and with his status, he could take his pick. If he wanted romance… well, the existence of airships allowed you to treat the sky like a lake for rowing.

However, the powerful feel of a sports car and the roar of the engine were still very exhilarating. No wonder all those playboys loved these things; besides being flashy, they were lethal weapons for picking up girls.

The place Yan Yuhe took Zhou Yuanqiang was not her home, but her private little getaway in Shanghai.

“This is my little nest. Only one or two close friends know about it; even my parents don’t.” When she opened the door, the decor inside truly matched Yan Yuhe’s personality—pink was the dominant color, and it was full of romance. Upon entering, one could smell a thick, pleasant fragrance—the same scent Zhou Yuanqiang often smelled on Yan Yuhe herself.

After settling in, Zhou Yuanqiang asked, “Am I just going to stay here until your birthday?”

Yan Yuhe covered her mouth and laughed. “Of course not. First, you have to blend into my social circle. Give them a good impression to earn some points. Getting to know them will be a huge help for your future development. Through them, you can influence their parents, which in turn can influence my parents. It’s a sort of indirect approach.”

Zhou Yuanqiang rubbed his nose. “Upper-class society, playboys, high-society ladies… why do I feel like I’m in a movie?”

“Just treat yourself as an actor and perform well.” Yan Yuhe checked the time. “Rest here for a while. I need to go home and see my parents. Also, once word gets out that I’m back, many friends will surely want to get together. So, get some energy and prepare to pass the first test with my friends.”

Zhou Yuanqiang rolled his eyes. “Why do I feel like I’m heading to an execution? And don’t you think all of this is a bit too cliché?”

Yan Yuhe glared at him. “This is just how high society is. Who cares if it’s cliché? It’s like how we need to eat normal meals—do you feel like eating every day is cliché? Life is just like this. It’s only because too many people know about it that it stops being fresh and becomes what you call cliché. Do you expect the people around me to squat at a street stall to eat snacks or go to a tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant? It’s not that they can’t, but their status doesn’t allow it. It would reflect poorly on their families. What would people say?”

Listening to this lady’s lecture, Zhou Yuanqiang could only throw up his hands in surrender. “OK, I get it. I completely understand.”

After Yan Yuhe left, Zhou Yuanqiang took a good look at this little nest. Especially when he saw the large wardrobe full of clothes, his eyes lit up. He tiptoed over, almost wanting to open it and peek at some intimate female garments. Unfortunately, he stopped himself. “That… seems… like it wouldn’t be right, wouldn’t it?”

Forcibly suppressing the thought, Zhou Yuanqiang could only sigh and collapse onto the large pink bed. Smelling the lingering fragrance on the sheets, his heart stirred with restless impulses.

“A woman’s room truly has a different kind of attraction. Every little detail can catch a man’s eye,” Zhou Yuanqiang muttered to himself. He thought for a moment and then shook his head with a bitter smile. “What do I have to be afraid of? Damn it, when I let out my killing intent, all those delicate little girls and soft playboys who have never seen a drop of blood will probably have their legs go weak and collapse on the floor.”

Thinking of that scene, Zhou Yuanqiang felt much better!

However, before that, he still needed to make some minor preparations. He was here to “apply” for the position of a son-in-law, after all. He had to put on a good performance and couldn’t lose face. But what exactly did he need to prepare? An attack helicopter? A fighter jet? A tank? Rows of missiles… Good grief, why did it feel like he was going to war?

Chapter 304: The Circle

The prosperity of Shanghai is not particularly obvious during the day. It is only when night falls that you can see the nightscape of a hundred million lights, a beauty so breathtaking it leaves one gasping.

It was only early evening, and the sun’s afterglow had not yet completely dissipated, but the streetlights had already flickered on. Neon lights on the skyscrapers shimmered with a mesmerizing glow. The cars passing along the streets wove together thin threads of light like a painting. The flickering billboards became the finishing touch that adorned the entire city.

An opulent nightlife of decadence began to play out quietly, as countless facets hidden in the darkness revealed their seductive, corrupting side.

Yan Yuhe’s private little suite was located on the 55th floor of a high-rise. From the window, one could get a bird’s-eye view of a vast stretch of the night scene. Unlike City S, Shanghai’s confidence came from its historical depth. As a city striving to become the world’s largest financial center, its prosperity was far beyond what anyone else could imagine. Of those who had held high office in Shanghai, which of them had not eventually risen to the central government to become a top-tier figure?

From this point alone, one could see how important Shanghai’s position was within the country.

At seven o’clock, Yan Yuhe called. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t have much to pack; he wore the same set of clothes as before—simple but decent. They looked plain but wouldn’t cause him to lose face or breach etiquette. After all, no matter how expensive the clothes one wore, there would always be someone wearing more expensive ones. Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t be bothered to engage in such comparisons; there seemed to be no necessity for it.

Downstairs, Yan Yuhe was waiting in her Lamborghini. Her attire was focused on elegance and nobility, carrying the temperament of a well-bred young lady from a prestigious family, a completely different style from her previous sexiness.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but feel it was a bit strange. A Lamborghini was a supercar, and it didn’t quite match Yan Yuhe’s current look. It was like forcing wildness and tranquility together; no matter how one looked at it, something felt off. At the very least, she should have been driving a sedan more suitable for a noble lady rather than a flashy sports car.

Seeing Zhou Yuanqiang come down, she gave a faint smile—natural and generous, completely lacking her usual boisterous manner.

Zhou Yuanqiang took the driver’s seat while Yan Yuhe sat in the passenger side, constantly giving directions. However, Zhou Yuanqiang’s mind was not really on driving; instead, he stole glances at Yan Yuhe from time to time. He remarked, “How did you swap your skin and become a different person?”

Yan Yuhe was taken aback for a moment before finally regaining a trace of the personality Zhou Yuanqiang was familiar with. She scolded, “No pearls from a dog’s mouth! What do you mean ‘swap my skin’? I just changed my clothes. Since I’m back in this circle, I have to revert to the personality I always had here. Why do you think I ran off to work in City S? It’s because the circle I live in is exhausting.”

Every day, every single person had to pretend to be a lady or a gentleman. The men had to be refined, cultured, and pedantic about the quality of life, clothing, and so on. Who wouldn’t be tired of such a fuss? At the very least, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t want to live that kind of life; wearing a mask and hiding one’s true personality would be draining.

Yan Yuhe didn’t object to Zhou Yuanqiang’s attire, simply pointing the way for him to drive.

The gathering place was not in the bustling urban area but out in the suburbs, right by the sea.

This place was also brightly lit. A large cluster of low-rise buildings was built along the shore, filled with man-made coastal plant life. As Zhou Yuanqiang drove, he looked around; the cars parked here were exclusively world-famous luxury brands. This made Zhou Yuanqiang feel a bit tempted: “If I run out of money in the future, I could come here to make a haul. Just based on these luxury cars, I could easily clear a few hundred million.”

Under Yan Yuhe’s direction, he parked the sports car. She explained, “There’s a small mountain range in front of here that blocks out the noise of the city, yet it’s very close to the city and convenient for travel. Naturally, this place is loved by everyone. we usually come here for gatherings.”

The gatherings here didn’t take place in private rooms, but were calculated by individual small manors.

For example, the one Yan Yuhe had reserved this time was Manor No. 22. The area inside was massive, primarily focused on landscaping and gardens, with a small number of buildings used for resting. Each manor was designed according to a different style—styles from across the country or from foreign lands. Naturally, the usage fee wasn’t low; a single night cost 200,000, and including the food and drinks for a series of parties, holding a gathering here would cost around 500,000.

It might seem like 500,000 isn’t a lot, but who knows how many people in this country can’t save that much money in a lifetime? And here, it was just for one night or a few hours…

The gap between the rich and the poor was displayed nakedly in places like this. Perhaps a lobster on the table would only be pecked at for a few bites before being discarded. In the eyes of an ordinary person, the price of that lobster would require several months’ salary to match.

Yan Yuhe was very familiar with the place. She led Zhou Yuanqiang and quickly found the manor she had reserved.

Zhou Yuanqiang was like a country bumpkin entering the city, eyes wide with wonder. Who was Zhou Yuanqiang? A year and a half ago, he was just a poor laborer, with a salary hovering around 1,700 or 1,800. With his status of not wearing a single brand-name item, forget about entering a place like this—if he even got close, he’d probably be knocked out by some ultimate move and blown into some obscure corner.

He had been busy in the post-apocalyptic world with no time for enjoyment, struggling for survival. Even after things stabilized, there were many matters to handle, and he had to mess around in Somalia, the very synonym for poverty. Even if he had money and power, he hadn’t had the chance to enjoy places like this.

Moreover, having held a “peasant mindset” for over twenty years, even if he controlled trillions in wealth, hearing that a single gathering here would cost five or six hundred thousand… it was out of the question. Even if you killed him, Zhou Yuanqiang wouldn’t want to spend that money. In his mind, spending a little bit of money at a roadside food stall, setting up a steaming hot pot, and ordering a few crates of beer where you could cross your legs and eat and drink to your heart’s content… or calling over some friends to play drinking games… that’s what you call an enjoyable life.

The five or six hundred thousand spent here would be enough to visit food stalls for a lifetime.

Of course, these were just Zhou Yuanqiang’s small thoughts. If Yan Yuhe knew, it would probably make her cough up blood.

Inside the manor, a group of waiters was already busy setting up everything needed for the gathering; they were nearing the end of their preparations. As the host of this banquet, Yan Yuhe naturally had to arrive early. She led Zhou Yuanqiang to a swing under a towering tree, watching the waiters gradually depart. “There are still about ten minutes; people should be arriving soon.”

Zhou Yuanqiang looked at the dozen or so remaining servants and the rows of tables laden with various gourmet foods and fine wines. His stomach began to feel hungry. Heaven knows, he had flown to Shanghai in the morning and stayed in his room ever since, only returning to the post-apocalyptic Commercial Association a few times to work on preparations… he hadn’t had time to eat a thing.

When it was almost time for the guests to arrive, Yan Yuhe naturally went to the manor entrance to wait for her friends.

Thinking that Yan Yuhe wanted him to stay here to be introduced later, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head. Looking at the mountain of food, he swallowed his saliva. “Food is the people’s heaven; I’ll eat something first.” He didn’t care about etiquette. His year and a half in the post-apocalyptic world had taught him that the stomach is paramount. How many stories had started from a hungry stomach?

Taking advantage of Yan Yuhe’s absence, Zhou Yuanqiang walked light-footedly to the dining table. He unceremoniously picked up a fork, impaled a piece of still-warm steak, cut it into two pieces with a knife, and began to eat greedily.

Tasting the steak here, Zhou Yuanqiang finally understood what “value for money” meant. Based on the culinary skills here, there was no question—it was far better than some restaurants in City S. Not just the steak, but the small pastries and such were also exquisite. Even the red wine here was top-tier, absolutely incomparable to what was available outside.

Perhaps he was too hungry, or perhaps the food was too delicious, but Zhou Yuanqiang’s eating manner was somewhat disheveled. He held a fork in one hand and gripped a glass of red wine in the other, taking a gulp and then a bite.

Soon, Zhou Yuanqiang seemed to discover a new continent. On the table, a large lobster sat emitting a thick fragrance, as if it were intentionally seducing him. Needless to say, Zhou Yuanqiang, who had never eaten lobster before, went straight for the kill. He raised his fork and lunged at it with flailing arms.

However, it seemed someone else had the same speed as Zhou Yuanqiang, also aiming for the lobster.

Apparently, both sides noticed each other. After a brief freeze, they both continued their motions. Each person cut a large piece of meat from the lobster, dipped it in sauce, and then sneakily put it on their plate. That fellow, who looked to be about thirty and was doing the same thing as Zhou Yuanqiang, winked at him and said, “Go over there to eat. People are coming soon.”

Hearing this, Zhou Yuanqiang felt like he had found a kindred spirit. He followed the man behind a cluster of flowers and sat down on the grass. The two said nothing and immediately started eating. In any case, neither had much grace, and they polished off the large pieces of lobster meat like a whirlwind.

The other man seemed somewhat satisfied. “My old man lectured me all day, and then I had to rush over here. I haven’t eaten all day; I’m starving to death.” He looked at Zhou Yuanqiang and asked, “You haven’t eaten all day either?”

Zhou Yuanqiang drained his glass of red wine in one gulp. “I’m not as dramatic as you; I only haven’t eaten for most of the day.”

“How come I don’t seem to have seen you before? Are you a new friend of that girl Yan Yuhe?” The man sized up Zhou Yuanqiang, straightened his clothes, and reached out his hand. “Let me introduce myself. Yu Zhenhua, a good-for-nothing playboy. Being lectured by my old man every day is my required course.”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t expect the other party to be so frank and straightforward. He reached out his hand. “Zhou Yuanqiang, a small businessman. Nice to meet you.”

Yu Zhenhua looked at Zhou Yuanqiang with a strange expression. “You’re probably not from Shanghai.” Zhou Yuanqiang nodded. “It’s my first time in Shanghai. Please look out for me.” Yu Zhenhua found it a bit odd that Yan Yuhe would bring Zhou Yuanqiang to this place, but his personality wasn’t one to dig for roots. He said casually, “Just because you’re a friend of that girl Yan Yuhe, if you run into any trouble in Shanghai, just say you’re a friend of mine, Yu Zhenhua. It’ll help a little bit.”

Zhou Yuanqiang just smiled politely. This was clearly a joke. Do you think you own Shanghai? Furthermore, with his skills, anyone who crossed him would be the unlucky one. This… it didn’t seem like there would be any troublesome matters he couldn’t handle. Even if fists couldn’t solve it, he could just haul out a heavy machine gun and go on a wild strafing run—okay, problem solved.

The two didn’t talk deeply, but they seemed to have a good impression of each other. After all, they had just been comrades in sneak-eating.

Soon, the voices of a group of women came from outside, moving from far to near, occasionally accompanied by the voices of men. With Zhou Yuanqiang’s hearing, he could clearly determine there were as many as seventeen people, all seeming like very good friends. He really hadn’t known that Yan Yuhe, whose personality was sometimes quite cold, could make so many friends.

“Why is she here too? Didn’t she say she was going to England? What the hell!”

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t the only one with sensitive hearing. Yu Zhenhua also heard voices he didn’t want to hear. With a bitter face, he said, “It’s over. That little tail… should I hide? But so many people saw me come in; hiding will only make things more troublesome.”

Zhou Yuanqiang chuckled, feeling that the other man was quite childlike. He said, “You can hide for a while, but you can’t hide forever. What is it, a woman chasing you? In my opinion, you might as well agree to date her. Maybe after she gets to know you, she’ll realize you’re not actually her type. Women are like that: the more they can’t have something, the more they want to investigate. It’s usually just a temporary fever.”

Yu Zhenhua’s eyes lit up. “Why didn’t I think of that before? No wonder the more I hide, the more she pesters me. Turns out it’s just a woman’s curiosity at work.” He smiled at Zhou Yuanqiang. “Thanks, you really woke me up from a dream!”

Just then, Yan Yuhe’s voice came from outside, asking the waiter where Zhou Yuanqiang had gone. Zhou Yuanqiang pointed outside, and Yu Zhenhua understood. The two immediately acted like old friends, walking out from behind the flowers while laughing and talking.

Yan Yuhe looked curiously at the two men chatting so happily. For a moment, her mood became complicated. She first nodded with a smile to Yu Zhenhua and said, “Big Brother Yu, so you were hiding in the back. I was just saying I couldn’t find you and was afraid you’d slipped away again.” She glanced at Zhou Yuanqiang. “Big Brother Yu, do you two know each other?”

Yu Zhenhua laughed a few times. “Of course we do. Can’t you see we’re having a great conversation?”

At this time, from a cluster of women nearby, a very delicate girl ran over happily, shouting, “Big Brother Yu, so you really are here! I thought they were lying to me.”

Normally, Yu Zhenhua’s smile would have vanished instantly, followed by him coming up with all sorts of excuses to deal with her before fleeing. But he had been awakened by Zhou Yuanqiang’s words. This time, he didn’t hide at all. Instead, he said warmly, “I was just thinking of calling you later. I didn’t expect to run into you here. Why, didn’t you go to England? Why are you here?”

The delicate girl was actually stunned for a moment before becoming even more joyful. “I heard you were coming here, Big Brother Yu, so I rushed back from England specifically for you.”

Naturally, Yu Zhenhua’s behavior—the complete opposite of his usual self—immediately surprised everyone present. Even Yan Yuhe couldn’t believe it, whispering, “We used to call those two Tom and Jerry; they were always playing hide and seek. Big Brother Yu isn’t hiding today?”

Only Zhou Yuanqiang understood the reason. It was mainly that Yu Zhenhua’s girl-chasing skills weren’t up to par; otherwise, he would have seen the problem long ago.

As it was likely a private gathering, the people present were Yan Yuhe’s usually close friends, and they were mostly female, with only four males. They were likely people who gathered often and were familiar with each other. Therefore, Zhou Yuanqiang, a completely strange man, immediately became the center of attention.

To be honest, Zhou Yuanqiang’s appearance was indeed not very outstanding. His build was average, and he didn’t have much of a special temperament. At first glance, you couldn’t see anything remarkable about him; he was a very ordinary type of person. If you were on the street, he would be the kind of person people ignore because he was truly too plain and ordinary.

Being surrounded by a bunch of giggling women and watched like a monkey in a zoo made Zhou Yuanqiang feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Yuhe, aren’t you going to introduce this friend to us? I heard you found a boyfriend… it wouldn’t happen to be him, would it?”

A few of those close to Yan Yuhe were already sizing up Zhou Yuanqiang, occasionally shaking or nodding their heads, making Zhou Yuanqiang completely unsure whether they were satisfied or not.

Yan Yuhe was generous, however. She took Zhou Yuanqiang’s hand, raised it, and said, “Zhou Yuanqiang, my boyfriend. This gathering today is mainly to introduce him to all of you. Alright, if you have any questions, ask him. Consider it his test to see if he can pass my sisters’ inspection.” After speaking, she wriggled out of Zhou Yuanqiang’s grip and ran off smiling.

“Wait, no…”

Zhou Yuanqiang began to feel flustered as he looked at the dozen or so women closing in. Although they were all quite good-looking, some even beautiful, this formation was quite intimidating. He subconsciously straightened his clothes and said with a smile, “Let’s talk things through properly. I promise to answer everything I know and cooperate with you with total sincerity.”

In reality, his heart was perfectly calm. What kind of scene had he not witnessed? Would he be afraid of a mere dozen women? What a joke!

To the women who were used to refined gentlemen, Zhou Yuanqiang’s performance felt fresh. Thus, the dozen women began to interrogate him: “Huh, such an ordinary man, not handsome at all. Why would Sister Yuhe fall for him? Also, looking at your clothes, the fit is decent, but the material…”

Well, there it was. People’s eyes were sharp; he was exposed immediately. They could tell at a glance that the fabric of his clothes was low-grade.

Chapter 305: Scaring the Hell Out of Them

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s mind, shouldn’t the noses of the wealthy be pointed toward the sky? He assumed that young ladies from prestigious families would have been pampered since childhood and be completely unreasonable.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang soon realized that the education these people received from a young age was far beyond what an ordinary person could imagine; they were a group of truly refined individuals. Summing up his frustration, he thought, Goddamn it, I’ve been lied to by those urban novels. How come the rich heiresses and playboys in those books all act like bullies? Isn’t that just a bunch of nonsense?

Come to think of it, these people had private tutors from childhood. The schools they were sent to used the most advanced educational methods. The groups they interacted with were all upper-class elites. Their social circles and every aspect of their lives were, without exception, the best. Would their character really be like the hoodlums described in novels? Claims of men coming to blows over a woman at the drop of a hat, or women acting like brainless trophy vases, were pure fabrication.

Of course, because they were born into a different social strata, heiresses and playboys inevitably possessed a certain pride. A tendency to look down on others was common, and Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t deny that.

Listening to the dozen or so women gathered around him, they effectively criticized his every trait until he seemed to have no redeeming qualities. Perhaps his only merit was having no merits at all. Faced with their gossipy questions, Zhou Yuanqiang was beginning to feel like raising a white flag in surrender. Unfortunately, there were no flags to be found here, so he had to endure being judged and analyzed…

Finally, the women dispersed, and the few men around his age finally had a chance to approach.

Yu Zhenhua looked at Zhou Yuanqiang with sympathy and said, “Now you finally understand how formidable they are? It’s true that we don’t have much common ground with them. Look at the questions they just asked—do you like shopping? What kind of cosmetics do you prefer? Are those questions a man can even answer?”

A few of them chuckled. After they sat down, one young man with a relatively ordinary appearance but the distinct aura of someone in a high position smiled and spoke. “Wei Haoning. I started helping my father with company affairs from a young age. Brother Yu mentioned you’re also in business, so I’ve finally found a friend I can talk shop with.” He glanced at the others and shook his head with a bitter smile. “They’re all young masters who don’t care about work at all.”

Yu Zhenhua shrugged and said, “I’ll call you Qiang-zi, since I’m several years older than you. Haoning is the genius among us. He graduated from Harvard at nineteen and is already a group president. Even his old man is preparing to step back to the second line and leave the company entirely in his hands.”

Needless to say, he had run into a heavy hitter. Compared to someone like this, Zhou Yuanqiang felt like he could only weep in shame.

Zhou Yuanqiang reached into his pocket and pulled out the business cards he had prepared, handing one to each of the men present. Originally, he had considered having business cards made of gold, but he figured that would likely leave people with the impression of a nouveau riche boor. So, he had simply found a small print shop and spent eight bucks for a single box.

I bet these are the cheapest business cards they’ve ever received.

Indeed, these cards were beyond ordinary; even the paper quality was worse than standard A4 paper, leaving everyone present stunned.

“Chairman of the Somalia Steel Group?”

Following the sound of their sharp intake of breath, Zhou Yuanqiang felt quite smug. He swept his gaze over them and chuckled inwardly: If you’re going to play this game with me, I’ll scare the hell out of you. With a title like this, whatever “group” you guys have can just stand aside.

However, Yu Zhenhua soon asked doubtfully, “Does… does Somalia even have a steel group?”

“Of course it does.” Zhou Yuanqiang nodded with absolute certainty. “Does Brother Yu suspect I’d use a fake title to deceive you?”

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t actually lying. His steel plant in Somalia was indeed named the Somalia Steel Group. In a hellhole like Somalia, there were no regulations regarding corporate names anyway—you could stick the name of the country on it and no one would care. Thus, a small steel plant could suddenly feel like a national-level super conglomerate.

Only someone who truly understood Somalia would know that there was no such thing as a “Steel Group” there; the place was practically synonymous with a wasteland.

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang say this, who would dare suggest he was just bluffing? Yet the situation felt strange. A chairman of a steel group who was this young, Chinese, and used such low-grade business cards? Strange, definitely strange.

For Wei Haoning to manage his father’s group before the age of thirty, he was certainly shrewd. He merely smiled faintly and said, “There truly is always a higher mountain. I also have a steel company under my command. I hear iron ore exports from Somalia are quite active. If there’s a chance, we could collaborate.”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind and said generously, “No problem. Although Somalia is chaotic, no one turns down money. They’re happier than anyone when business comes knocking.”

At that moment, Yan Yuhe walked over and said, “Come over here. Stop huddling together as a group of men and leaving us women to ourselves.”

Two long rows of tables were filled with food. It was enough food for twenty or thirty people, let alone a dozen. However, when it came to eating, Zhou Yuanqiang noticed that the others only ate a little bit at their leisure. Meanwhile, he had filled his plate to the brim like a starving ghost, making people seriously wonder if he had just arrived from Africa.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s appetite was naturally large, and because of his gene reinforcement, his physical constitution required him to eat more than the average person.

However, under Yan Yuhe’s fiery gaze, he obediently put his plate down and smiled awkwardly. “I haven’t eaten anything since this morning. I’m a bit hungry.” Yan Yuhe rolled her eyes at him and whispered, “Couldn’t you wait until they all leave? I’ll find a restaurant and eat with you then.”

By that logic, this table full of delicacies was just a decoration for the gathering, no different from the flowers and grass here.

Such waste, such a total waste…

Zhou Yuanqiang was certain that if his subordinates from the wasteland saw this scene, they would probably tear these people limb from limb.

Facing such delicious food—especially those two large lobsters—he decided he couldn’t let them go to waste. Zhou Yuanqiang felt he had to do something. Only those who had lived through the apocalypse understood how difficult life could be and the supreme importance of food.

Because of this, while everyone was chatting, Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly clapped his hands and said mysteriously, “Does everyone think that I’m just an ordinary man, and wonder why Yuhe would fall in love with someone like me? Haha, actually, I want to say that everyone has their strengths; the key is how you uncover them.”

Yan Yuhe didn’t expect Zhou Yuanqiang to say this so suddenly, and even she found herself wondering how she had fallen for him.

Before giving them time to ask questions, Zhou Yuanqiang said, “Actually, I know a few small magic tricks. Since this is our first meeting, I’d like to share them with everyone.”

Yu Zhenhua wasn’t particularly interested, and a busy man like Wei Haoning was even less so. Only the bored women became excited, chirping and asking Zhou Yuanqiang to perform like some famous magician or another.

Yan Yuhe walked over and whispered, “When did you learn magic? Don’t mess it up and become a laughingstock.”

Zhou Yuanqiang gave her a reassuring look, walked to the two rows of food tables, and said loudly, “In fact, the magic you usually see is child’s play. Although I haven’t mastered it, I look down on those kinds of tricks. Alright, everyone keep your eyes open and watch my performance.”

He turned around and chuckled in a corner where no one could see. Looking at the tables full of food, his peasant mindset began acting up again…

The others saw Zhou Yuanqiang first put on a show of making some strange, mysterious hand gestures. Then, he suddenly braced himself against the tables, and while running along them, he swept his hand across.

In an instant, everyone’s eyes went wide. What they saw were the foods on the table being seemingly swallowed by the air, vanishing as Zhou Yuanqiang’s hand moved. Almost everywhere his hand passed, the food above disappeared completely, leaving behind only the pristine white tablecloths.

At this, even the composed Yu Zhenhua couldn’t help but stare with wide eyes.

The waiters standing nearby were even more slack-jawed. Professionalism was thrown out the window in the face of this magical scene. They just wanted to know how this very real food had simply been vanished. What bothered them even more was… damn it, the serving platters were all made of solid silver! If they just disappeared like that, the staff would lose more than just a layer of skin as punishment.

For a veteran like Zhou Yuanqiang who had used his storage space to transport countless items, a single swipe meant not even a crumb was left behind.

Staring at the two empty rows of tables, everyone stared at each other in shock. Compared to those who pulled birds or flowers out of hats, this trick was top-tier. More importantly, Zhou Yuanqiang had no props prepared; he had simply vanished the items with a casual gesture.

The first to react was Yan Yuhe. Her face was full of shock as she asked, “How… how is it all gone?”

Zhou Yuanqiang just smiled. With a wave of his hand, a large bouquet of fiery red roses appeared. He said, “For you!” He didn’t know if a certain woman whose balcony in the Commercial Association was now bare was currently cursing in the street. Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but feel a bit mischievous.

Yan Yuhe was stunned again before happily taking the flowers.

Truth be told, this was actually very romantic. At the very least, the women behind her were already clapping, calling for another trick.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind. He pushed the two rows of tables together into one and began a dazzling performance. Within his massive storage space, he had all sorts of things, from daily necessities to weapons and equipment—even planes and tanks.

Especially gold, and countless pieces of jewelry and diamonds.

With a wave of his hand, a gold bar appeared and was placed on the table. Under the sunlight, it shimmered with its unique golden glow.

In reality, everyone present was wealthy. While gold was valuable, it wasn’t anything extraordinary in their eyes. They were just surprised. Since a gold bar was so heavy, how had Zhou Yuanqiang been carrying it, or was the bar just a fake prop?

But what happened next truly shocked them.

Gold bars were taken out one after another, quickly being built into a small mountain of gold. Zhou Yuanqiang only stopped when the two tables began to creak in serious protest.

Before they could recover from the shock, Zhou Yuanqiang swept his hand again, and the entire small mountain of gold vanished. But then, he took out various sizes of gemstones and laid them across the table. Under the lights, they sparkled like a sky full of stars, creating a dreamlike scene.

“So beautiful, it’s really so beautiful…”

The infatuated women had already begun to gasp in admiration. They had many diamonds and jewels of their own, but looking at what was on the table, there were at least a thousand pieces. This was certainly not something they could easily possess. After all, no matter how rich someone was, they wouldn’t likely pour all their wealth into a pile of gems that couldn’t be eaten and could only be looked at.

Zhou Yuanqiang merely smiled and swept his hand once more. The entire tabletop became empty and white again.

Speaking of gemstones, after the Commercial Association had neutralized the offensive of over a hundred million zombies, the entire empty province and several large cities belonged to him. Before that, the association’s stock of gold and diamonds had already been staggering. After taking over the whole province, they had filled a massive warehouse.

Under these circumstances, a mere thousand gemstones meant nothing to Zhou Yuanqiang.

Of course, he wouldn’t bring out something like crystals, which were even more translucent. He could be flashy, but he wasn’t stupid. If something didn’t exist in this world, even showing it once could expose him. What he had done just now was exaggerated, but it could be explained away as magic. The people here couldn’t tell the difference between real and fake anyway.

There was actually a bit of a mischievous streak in Zhou Yuanqiang’s personality. He blinked his eyes and started plotting another trick.

“Is my magic different from theirs?”

He didn’t need to ask. Everyone present was in utter disbelief. Even Wei Haoning began to look at Zhou Yuanqiang with newfound respect. His business acumen told him that this man was definitely not as simple as he appeared. Or was his claim about the Somalia Steel Group true? Over the past year or two, the steel industry hadn’t been easy; iron ore prices were rising while steel prices dropped. Finding a cheaper source of iron ore was a top priority for many steel companies.

Zhou Yuanqiang pulled off a tablecloth and smiled mysteriously. “Next, I’m going to bring out something big, so I need to use this tablecloth as a prop.”

Everyone was drawn in. Even Yan Yuhe was full of excitement, saying, “Magicians always have a beautiful female assistant. How about it? Do you need my help?”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and handed the tablecloth to her. “Of course. Just hold it up like this to block their view. When I say you can take it away, then you take it away.”

In reality, the tablecloth was just to block people’s sight so that when the item appeared, it wouldn’t be too shocking. Once Yan Yuhe was ready, Zhou Yuanqiang produced an aerial bomb weighing over a hundred kilograms and said with a chuckle, “You can take the cloth away now.”

The result was predictable. Everyone’s face changed instantly, followed by a chorus of screams and a complete uproar.

Zhou Yuanqiang introduced it with a grin. “Just an aerial bomb. Even if it explodes, it would only turn this manor into ruins. It’s no big deal, no big deal.”

This introduction made everyone feel even more faint. Enough to destroy the entire manor and you call it no big deal? Do you have to destroy the entire city of Shanghai for it to be a big deal? Although no one knew if the thing was real or fake, who wouldn’t be terrified seeing an aerial bomb nearly as tall as a person?

Thus, by the time Zhou Yuanqiang put the bomb away, no one had the heart to stay any longer. One by one, they made excuses and slipped away.

If they stayed any longer, who knew what other hellish thing Zhou Yuanqiang might produce? Even if it was just a prop, it could easily cause a heart attack. It was better to leave. Regardless, the goal of the evening had been met—at least they had met this man who was both ordinary and extraordinary.

Only Yan Yuhe seemed very unhappy. Dragging Zhou Yuanqiang along, she left the manor in a huff.

The unfortunate waiters looked at each other and then stared collectively at the empty table. How were they going to explain to their supervisor that the food and tableware had all been vanished by magic? Their supervisor would likely skin them alive. A tragedy, tonight was destined to be a total tragedy for them.

As for Zhou Yuanqiang, he was quite happy as he left. Ignoring Yan Yuhe’s anger, he drove fast and soon brought her back to her little “pink nest.” He was smiling so much that Yan Yuhe thought he was planning something else, but then he asked, “You definitely didn’t get to eat anything just now. Are you hungry?”

Yan Yuhe breathed a sigh of relief but gave a huff. “I’m too angry to be hungry. The performance was going well, why did you have to go and scare people? You ruined everything.”

Zhou Yuanqiang just kept smiling. He pulled Yan Yuhe to the dining table and gave a casual wave. To Yan Yuhe’s astonishment, plates of delicacies appeared—especially those two large lobsters, which were actually still steaming. Her eyes went wide as she pointed at the food, unable to find the words.

“It’s still hot. Eat up, it saves us from having to run to a restaurant later.”

Zhou Yuanqiang unceremoniously picked up a knife and fork, cut a large piece of lobster, and handed it to Yan Yuhe. Then he cut a piece for himself and began to eat contentedly.

Damn it, after all that effort and running around, wasn’t it all for these two big lobsters? I worked hard for this!

Chapter 306: I Quite Admire You

After staying in Shanghai for a week, Yan Yuhe’s birthday finally arrived.

During this week, the scenarios Zhou Yuanqiang had imagined—like Yan Yuhe’s admirers showing up for a duel or some “sour grapes” types making snide remarks—didn’t actually happen. Life was remarkably ordinary. After that first gathering, Yan Yuhe hadn’t taken Zhou Yuanqiang to any other parties. She was constantly busy, though he wasn’t quite sure what she was occupied with.

Fortunately, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t find it boring staying alone in her private apartment. The place was filled with her feminine scent, making a long stay quite bearable. Moreover, there were matters in the post-apocalyptic world that needed his attention from time to time. By hopping between the two timelines, time slipped away quietly.

“Tonight is my birthday. My father is hosting a banquet at home.”

When Yan Yuhe appeared, she looked somewhat dejected. “Even though they help me celebrate every year, it’s never just about the family. In truth, our lives are spent moving from one banquet to another. Socializing is our primary objective because this entire society is built on connections. You have to smooth over every interpersonal joint. Only by doing that can you ensure your company and your career expand step by step.”

“Just a bunch of guys using a birthday as an excuse to talk business,” Zhou Yuanqiang muttered with a smile. “If you want, just the two of us can celebrate this birthday. How about it? Forget about the banquet.”

Yan Yuhe shook her head. “The invitations have already been sent out. Things are beyond the point of changing; otherwise, it would significantly impact my father’s business.”

Zhou Yuanqiang sighed. “Well then, for your next birthday, we won’t need any of this nonsense. We’ll celebrate it by ourselves, free and easy. we could go to the sea, the forests, the fields, the grasslands, or even snow-capped mountains. As long as you like it, we can go anywhere.”

“Mhm!”

Clearly, the romantic side of Yan Yuhe was moved. What could be more touching than being able to spend one’s birthday according to one’s own wishes?

After giving Zhou Yuanqiang a light kiss, Yan Yuhe left again. She had a mountain of preparations to make. Applying her makeup alone would take at least two or three hours. Zhou Yuanqiang thought somewhat mischievously that if every party was this much trouble, wouldn’t a small portion of one’s life be wasted just on makeup? What would be the point of life then?

Considering it was Yan Yuhe’s birthday after all, Zhou Yuanqiang had to set aside his usual casual attitude. In such a formal setting, he needed to pay at least some attention to etiquette.

As for luxury suits and the like, the Commercial Association—which controlled an area the size of two provinces—collected everything usable. What could he possibly lack? If Zhou Yuanqiang wanted clothes from world-famous boutiques, someone would deliver them within fifteen minutes. But he didn’t want that. As a ruler, he was the one who changed others, not the one to be changed by them.

Since it was a birthday, he naturally had to prepare a gift. Zhou Yuanqiang racked his brain but couldn’t think of anything suitable.

Gold or silver? People at this social level wouldn’t find that special. Jewelry went without saying. But besides those, he really couldn’t find anything else worth giving. This was genuinely giving Zhou Yuanqiang a headache, and as the sky began to darken, he still hadn’t come up with a good idea.

Having learned from the previous gathering, Zhou Yuanqiang made himself a bowl of noodles to line his stomach before heading out.

The birthday banquet was being held at Yan Yuhe’s home, a massive seaside villa. If his villa in City S was considered large, then Yan Yuhe’s family villa was on another level entirely. His entire property, including the yard, wasn’t even half the size of their front garden. It felt like a public park.

Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t imagine how much a villa like this would cost in a place like Shanghai, where land was as expensive as gold.

Because Zhou Yuanqiang arrived in Yan Yuhe’s pink Lamborghini, he entered easily. He found a vacant spot and parked. Seeing the rows of world-class luxury cars around him, he felt another wave of emotion. Even the cheapest among them cost over a million. Just how much wealth was sitting in this front garden?

The only person who could look at all this as if it were nothing but fleeting clouds was likely Zhou Yuanqiang.

Had he not seen enough things destroyed in the post-apocalyptic world? No matter how precious a car was, back when Zhou Yuanqiang first arrived and people were struggling on the brink of starvation, someone would have been willing to help him acquire these ownerless luxury cars for just a few pieces of flatbread.

Therefore, beneath his awe, he suddenly felt that these luxury cars were really just a yard full of flatbread. It was nothing special. To use a more exaggerated comparison, he could spend a few bucks, buy a few, eat one, and throw one away. That was the value of these world-class cars: a few pieces of bread.

Zhou Yuanqiang even thought about visiting the post-apocalyptic version of Shanghai. After these so-called high-society elites were infected and turned into zombies, would they be any different from other zombies? Or perhaps they were superior even as monsters, becoming Special Infected or high-level zombies?

“Hehe!” Zhou Yuanqiang chuckled to himself, watching these successful professionals and upper-class elites, feeling deeply nostalgic.

Likely having received instructions, a butler around fifty years old approached shortly after Zhou Yuanqiang got out of the car. He asked politely, “Are you Mr. Zhou Yuanqiang?”

Zhou Yuanqiang nodded, and the man smiled. “The Master requests your presence.”

“The Master?” Zhou Yuanqiang was puzzled. He didn’t have any acquaintances in Shanghai.

The butler seemed momentarily stunned, but then explained, “That would be Miss Yan’s father…” The habitual title had made his mind lag for a second. He smiled again. “Yan Yuhe’s father. You understand now, right?”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know what this big boss wanted with him before the birthday banquet had even started. Thinking about his purpose for being here—which was simply to meet them—he gestured for the butler to lead the way. He followed behind, wondering what questions the old gentleman would ask or if he would make things difficult for him.

Amidst these chaotic thoughts, they entered the main building of the massive villa estate and went up to the third floor. After walking down a long corridor, they finally stopped in front of a door.

The butler knocked politely and said, “Master, Mr. Zhou has arrived.”

A steady voice came from inside. The butler nodded, opened the door, and said to Zhou Yuanqiang, “Mr. Zhou, please enter.” After Zhou Yuanqiang stepped inside, the butler politely closed the door and stood guard outside instead of leaving.

The room didn’t feel like a simple room to Zhou Yuanqiang, but rather a suite.

Specifically, it was a suite-style study. The layout was somewhat like a library, but with major differences. You wouldn’t find the solemnity of a library here; instead, there was a subtle, pleasant atmosphere that made one feel happy. The materials used for the bookshelves were particularly exquisite, emitting a scent that could calm the mind. Although Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know what kind of wood it was, he knew it must be incredibly expensive.

In this vast study, sits a middle-aged man at a large desk. He was observing Zhou Yuanqiang as he entered, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly in an unreadable expression.

When Zhou Yuanqiang saw him, he was somewhat surprised. He hadn’t expected Yan Yuhe’s father to look only thirty-five or thirty-six at most. However, his reaction was limited to surprise; there wasn’t a trace of panic. He simply walked toward him at a steady pace and sat down opposite him with a smile.

“You aren’t afraid?”

Yan Shangyang was quite curious about this young man. One should know that his own aura had reached a point where he commanded authority without even being angry. Yet, it had no effect on the person before him. Even someone of equal status wouldn’t normally be this confident. According to the data he held, this young man didn’t seem to have anything particularly outstanding about him, so how could he be so composed?

Zhou Yuanqiang countered, “Why should I be afraid?”

“Haha, very good, very good!” Yan Shangyang said “very good” twice in a row. He gently flipped through the book in his hand and said, “As a father, I can’t help but worry about my daughter’s affairs. You should understand why I called you here.”

Zhou Yuanqiang maintained his light smile. “I don’t quite follow. In this day and age, love is a matter of freedom. No one has the right to interfere, not even her father. Besides, I am unmarried, and your daughter is single. I have feelings for her, and she has a good impression of me. That is enough.”

Yan Shangyang laughed, closed his book, and said, “Do you really believe it’s that simple?”

“Things are inherently simple. It’s only the complicated thoughts of people like you that make them complex, driving simple matters into a dead end.” Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t afraid of anything. In terms of power, he could decide the fates of millions. With one roar, countless people would tremble. If he wished, thousands of warplanes and a massive army would move without hesitation at his command, sweeping everything aside.

Imagine that—what did he need to be afraid of?

Truthfully, Yan Shangyang wasn’t someone with an extreme temperament. He didn’t get angry at Zhou Yuanqiang’s words. Instead, he tapped on the desk and said, “Things are not as you think. From birth, we are destined to be different from ordinary people. You common people only need three meals a day to be satisfied. But we cannot. We have many responsibilities. I can only say that you are not suitable for my daughter, nor are you suitable for our social circle.”

Zhou Yuanqiang let out a “pfft” and laughed. “Are you referring to money?”

Yan Shangyang said proudly, “My daughter will always be the best. Although she grew up in this kind of family, she isn’t a big spender. Do you know that the daily allowance of some other heiresses is a number most people can’t touch in a lifetime? If it’s about money, with the wealth of the Yan Corporation, she couldn’t spend it all even in ten lifetimes. I am talking about responsibility, and also your personality—it’s not a fit.”

“Responsibility? Expanding the Yan Corporation?”

A flash of contempt crossed Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes. A group worth ten billion—and in Renminbi at that—was merely a drop in the ocean compared to his own wealth. What kind of “career” was that? He said, “Indeed, that kind of responsibility isn’t something I want. However, please believe that your daughter’s eye for people is surely a hundred times better than yours.”

Yan Shangyang finally became angry, because the Yan Corporation he valued as much as his own life had received nothing but a contemptuous look from this arrogant young man. Although Zhou Yuanqiang hid it quickly, how could it escape Yan Shangyang’s eyes? He laughed loudly. “Based on your small steel plant in Somalia? Or the magic tricks you performed at the gathering? Based on those, are you certain you can support my daughter and ensure she doesn’t suffer even a bit of hardship?”

He pointed toward the brightly lit party lawn in the distance. “Do you know how many young talents love my daughter? Every single one of them is a future leader of the peak of wealth.”

“Do you think those second-generation heirs will truly love your daughter? Their lives consist of nothing but wine and women. What kind of happiness can they bring her? To them, women are like clothes—isn’t that the most honest description? Besides that, what else is there? They were born just to wait and inherit their parents’ wealth. I may not have money now, but don’t forget that wealth is created by people. Have you never heard the saying, ‘Don’t look down on a youth just because he’s poor,’ Uncle?”

Seemingly hitting a sore spot, Zhou Yuanqiang’s tone grew slightly more intense, but he didn’t lose his cool.

This reaction actually earned Yan Shangyang’s appreciation. He had seen many young men, but few possessed this level of calm under pressure. He said, “I admit what you said is true; perhaps I was a bit too biased. Everything in this world is indeed created by people. The peak of wealth is unpredictable. You might be in a high position now, but in the next moment, you could very well fall. Young man, that is exactly what I mean by responsibility.”

“Setting everything else aside, I quite admire you. But to have my daughter, there is still a gap.”

Yan Shangyang stood up and returned the book on the desk to the shelf, smiling faintly. “For the sake of your composure, I can give you a chance. By next year’s birthday, I need you to prove that you are stronger than the others. You have only one year. If you cannot prove it, her next birthday will be when you lose her, because I will personally arrange the rest of her life for her. Do you understand?”

Zhou Yuanqiang shrugged his shoulders and said, “Thank you very much, Uncle. I imagine if it were anyone else looking at someone with my status, they would have sent someone to threaten me or tried to throw money at me to make me leave. Reality is quite harsh, isn’t it?”

Yan Shangyang could only manage a wry smile, caught between amusement and frustration by Zhou Yuanqiang’s words. “She is my daughter. Do you think I’m not a qualified father?” He checked his watch. “Alright, time is about up, and the celebration is about to begin. I think the person Yuhe wants to see most right now, besides me, is you.”

As he left the study, Zhou Yuanqiang felt as if he were in a dream. At least things hadn’t gone the way he initially expected. Yan Shangyang’s attitude was actually quite open-minded; at the very least, he hadn’t had him thrown out. This made Zhou Yuanqiang reflect—no wonder the man could control ten billion in wealth; just look at his magnanimity…

Thinking about the one-year “proof” period, Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly wanted to laugh. This simply meant he had to speed up the progress of his business in Somalia a little bit.

When Zhou Yuanqiang emerged behind Yan Shangyang, the radiant Yan Yuhe’s eyes flashed with surprise, followed by a sense of relief. At the very least, this was a good sign. Her father hadn’t immediately excluded Zhou Yuanqiang. Furthermore, appearing like this was somewhat of an acknowledgment of Zhou Yuanqiang’s identity to those present.

Yan Yuhe suddenly felt that this might be the happiest birthday she could remember.

Thus, her earlier gloom vanished. Like a joyful sprite, she continuously greeted the arriving guests, appearing even more beautiful than before.

Yan Shangyang only brought Zhou Yuanqiang out; he didn’t introduce him around, instead busying himself with his own networking. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind; this was exactly how he liked it. He avoided the noise of the banquet and sat quietly under a large tree, holding a glass of chilled wine, savoring it while watching the ultra-luxurious party.

Sometimes, in Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, people were no different from one another. The real distance wasn’t between people, but between amounts of money…

The so-called root of all evil actually referred to money. It could change too many things, yet human society could never survive without it. It was like a curse passed down through generations; money was humanity’s shackles, something they could never break free from. Every person’s life was bound by it, from birth until death.

In that case, was he also lost under the spell of money?

Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t figure it out. Perhaps only by standing at the peak of wealth could one truly escape its bindings? When you controlled money, you could command it, rather than letting it command you. But Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know just how much money one needed to master it.

“If I could cause a global financial tsunami just by stomping my foot, would that be the moment I finally conquered money?”

Amidst his musings, Zhou Yuanqiang took out the birthday gift he had prepared from his storage space.

It was a Seven-Color Medal of the Commercial Association, tucked inside an exquisite box. The seven colors shimmered under the lights. It was crafted from dozens of precious metals. Those familiar with it would call it the “Medal of Protection.” It represented the supreme will of Zhou Yuanqiang and the Commercial Association. In the entire Commercial Association, even a high-ranking figure like Qiu Guorui was nowhere near meeting the conditions to receive one.

By giving it to Yan Yuhe as a gift, Zhou Yuanqiang was essentially giving her a promise. She would be under his protection for the rest of her life…

Chapter 307: Rhino Tank

With Yan Yuhe’s birthday behind him, Zhou Yuanqiang’s life returned to its usual rhythm.

First, he returned to Somalia to oversee a major expansion of the steel plant, while various other small factories were also accelerating their growth. The massive demand for labor was already sending shockwaves through the nerves of the entire country. Even in Somaliland to the north, people heard whispers of a colossal industrial park in central Somalia that was like a paradise.

The industrial park had rapidly expanded to employ twenty thousand people. Combined with a large tract of land acquired from al-Shabaab, the area—now filled with organized layouts of asbestos-roofed housing and uniform planning—was no different from a mid-sized Somali city. More importantly, no employees were allowed to carry firearms within the park; everyone was subject to the unified management and dispatch of Zhou Yuanqiang’s Steel Group.

Armed security had expanded to fifteen hundred men, more than enough to ensure the site’s safety. Faced with the strict no-firearms rule, the workers only had to look at the benefits and the peace provided to accept it. To the Somali people, who had endured over a decade of turmoil and civil war, this place was a sanctuary. Who would refuse any requirement to stay?

The rise of the industrial park was the birth of Somalia’s largest enterprise, though none could yet say if it would be profitable.

To lower the guard of various regional factions toward the park, Zhou Yuanqiang mobilized his employees to exert influence and pressure on their respective tribes. Not stopping there, Zhou personally visited influential tribal leaders to discuss employment, allowing each tribe a certain quota of young people for jobs.

Given their previous cooperation on ore mining and the current employment opportunities presented to them, these tribes, who had lived in poverty for generations, simply could not refuse.

One by one, the tribes of central Somalia began to issue statements of support for the industrial park. They declared that any form of sabotage would be seen as a challenge to the dignity of the Somali tribes and would be met with tribal retaliation. The industrial park was “sacred,” bringing hope to disaster-stricken Somalia, and Zhou—now a Somali citizen—was hailed as an envoy sent by Heaven to bring a piece of pure land to this war-torn region.

No faction could ignore the influence of the tribes. Their soldiers, warriors, and followers all hailed from these tribes. Though they appeared loyal to their commanders, if the tribes issued an ancient summons, their first loyalty would always be to their people.

Under these circumstances, several factions that had been restless and ready to move were forced to bitterly halt their plans.

As Zhou Yuanqiang had said, as long as he was given time, these so-called factions were nothing more than insignificant clowns. With the joint statements from the tribes, the industrial park was safe for at least the next year or so. No one would dare risk the wrath of the tribes to attack him.

Moreover, he was no soft persimmon.

Setting aside the fifteen hundred security guards at the park, he had five thousand soldiers at the training base who had basic military cohesion, plus fifteen hundred special soldiers hidden in the deep mountains. With an armed force totaling eight thousand, he had effectively become a true major warlord in Somalia.

The construction of the industrial park followed a semi-military model. Supported by the Commercial Association in the post-apocalyptic world, Zhou Yuanqiang firmly believed that within a year, this place would be known as a land of miracles.

Compared to the heated growth of the Somali industrial park in the modern world, the development of the Commercial Association in the post-apocalyptic world could only be described as “balanced.” The lack of population meant that the countless machines harvested from across the empty province could only be stored in temporary warehouses. Although the three hundred thousand people from the scattered settlements Zhou had previously designated had moved to Qingyuan City, this only satisfied the upgrades for the Association’s various departments. To increase their war potential, they needed many more people.

The Sand Viper light tanks had played an eye-opening role during the last large-scale zombie offensive.

Their armor wasn’t particularly thick, but it was enough to withstand the zombies’ attacks. Their breakthrough capability was like a sharp blade, constantly cutting through the zombie ranks, breaking their momentum and weakening their impact. The two heavy machine guns mounted on each tank allowed them to slaughter within the crowds, while the main cannon served to eliminate high-threat targets.

With only thirty tanks, they had built a wall of steel that the zombies could not cross.

The development of the air force was advancing daily. Specifically, the appearance of the Bird’s Nest carrier seemed to change the dynamic where the air force relied on the navy. Those who knew about the “Little Bird” project were left speechless by the Association’s massive investment in the air force. Barring any accidents, the air force’s position as the Association’s primary military wing would be unshakable.

In August, Mu Gushan resigned from his position as the commander of the special forces and officially took over as the Commander of the Army, promoted to the rank of Major General.

As one of the Chairman’s most trusted confidants, Mu Gushan’s background wasn’t particularly flashy. He had served as the early head of the Marketing Department before Zhou Yuanqiang appointed him to lead the newly formed special forces. He had overseen the special ops, the Crystal Warriors, and the sniper units. Now that he had suddenly been appointed Army Commander and promoted to Major General, he had finally moved into the public eye.

Replacing Mu Gushan was Zhao Hongyuan, the former head of the sniper units.

It could be said that every one of the early followers of Zhou Yuanqiang was now a powerful figure holding significant authority.

Like a signal, Mu Gushan’s appointment as Army Commander gave the ground forces infinite room for imagination. Everyone in the Commercial Association knew that the ground forces’ development was the slowest. The air force already had over a thousand aircraft, yet the army’s ace weapon was only thirty light tanks. It was frankly embarrassing to mention.

As many expected, the first thing Mu Gushan did after taking office was to bring a thick stack of application documents and dump them right in front of Zhou Yuanqiang. He looked pitiful, but his tone was resolute. “Boss, you deal with it. Either approve this, or I, the new commander, will resign after a few days and go back to being a common soldier.”

Zhou Yuanqiang laughed. “Brother Mu, of all people, you and I get along the best. I’ll never forget the concern you showed me, however stern, when I first arrived in the wasteland. It’s August now; another two years have passed in the blink of an eye. We aren’t who we were back then, and we have responsibilities to fulfill.”

Mu Gushan seemed touched for a moment. But he quickly glared and said, “Boss, stop trying to change the subject. If you don’t approve this, I can’t function as Army Commander. Look at the artillery units—half of them don’t even have full barrels. The weapons are outdated, the updates are slow…”

Zhou Yuanqiang scratched his head. “I wouldn’t say updates are slow. The Commercial Association has only been formed for two years.”

He leaned back in his chair and gestured for Mu Gushan to sit, saying softly, “Making you the head of the Army was the signal to start building up the ground forces. Otherwise, would I have sent you out there to suffer?”

Mu Gushan’s face lit up immediately. He grinned and said, “I was wondering why you suddenly put me in charge of the ground forces. So there was a plan all along?” He blinked and pushed the documents forward. “Then sign them quickly.”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “There’s no rush to sign!”

But Mu Gushan didn’t care; he stubbornly insisted that Zhou sign them then and there. These were important documents that technically required a Commercial Association meeting, but under Mu Gushan’s badgering, Zhou Yuanqiang exercised his special authority as Chairman. He reviewed them one by one and signed his name.

Once the major applications were signed, Mu Gushan didn’t linger. He hurried off, beaming with joy.

When Mu Gushan arrived at the Armored Vehicle Factory as the new commander, he instantly brought a surge of vitality to the previously stagnant facility.

To be honest, the status of the Armored Vehicle Factory had been quite awkward. It was rated as a Class A facility, on par with the aircraft and airship factories. Yet, despite the massive human and material resources poured into it, the factory was rather quiet, producing nothing but troop carriers day after day. When they produced the Sand Viper tanks, they thought it would be their time to shine, but it turned out to be a flash in the pan—an order for only forty tanks (ten of which were in modern Somalia).

After finishing the Sand Viper order, the factory fell silent again, as if the great movements outside had nothing to do with it.

The sudden appearance of the Bird’s Nest carrier had undoubtedly pushed the air force’s strength to unprecedented heights. Industries related to the air force were reaping the benefits. Only the Armored Vehicle Factory, tied to the ground forces, felt extremely slighted.

Mu Gushan first inspected several key areas of the factory and then called an impromptu meeting. He stood at the head of the table, looking at the eager faces of the factory’s core personnel. “I’m glad to be here today, and I know what you’re all hoping to hear from me.”

He paused and continued, “Before I took over the Army, I already knew the ground forces were struggling. It’s a complex, systemic issue. When this factory was founded, its main purpose was building armored troop carriers. As the Association grew, the factory expanded to build armored cars and eventually the Sand Viper light tanks.”

“However, there are two major factors restricting the development of this factory: first is steel, and second is fuel. We all know what kind of world this is. Zombies roam everywhere; they’ve destroyed everything and turned the continent into a no-man’s-land. Our sources of steel used to be limited to salvaging scrap, until the steel plant was established.”

“We now have complete cities and no longer need to build them from scratch. The air force’s demand for steel is negligible. Thus, a massive amount of steel has accumulated, and that bottleneck has been resolved. But what about fuel… this remains the Commercial Association’s oldest problem.”

“If the Armored Vehicle Factory wants to truly be Class A and stand alongside the aircraft factories, we must solve these two issues.”

Mu Gushan spoke all this in one breath. He paused, looking at the crowd listening intently, and added, “But in my view, what does the Association’s motto of ‘planning ahead’ mean? Since the steel problem is solved, we can start manufacturing the products we’ve already designed and tested. We don’t have to wait for the fuel to arrive before we build. At worst, we build them and wait for the fuel to start them up. That’s better than just waiting around doing nothing.”

“Can the Army be called an army without tank units or armored divisions? They say a new official brings ‘three fires.’ My first fire will be the fire of the tank units.”

Mu Gushan stood up abruptly. “The Chairman has personally signed the order to form armored units, including heavy tank units and light tank breakthrough units. Therefore, from this moment on, the Armored Vehicle Factory will operate twenty-four hours a day to reclaim the glory of our ground forces. We will let the world know that when our heavy tank units are complete, the power of this King of War will, under the Chairman’s will, sweep across the continent and completely annihilate the zombies!”

The roar of machinery began as the fully equipped factory roared to life.

The heavy tank, which had been designed and tested long ago, was officially approved for mass production. It was named the Rhino Tank. It prioritized powerful propulsion and massive armor. Though speed was sacrificed, its impact force was such that it could plow through an endless sea of zombies like a ship through waves.

Its performance might have been lacking compared to modern main battle tanks, but as a heavy tank specifically designed to deal with massive zombie swarms, it was more than powerful enough.

In the wasteland, the first priority was always the zombies; everything else came after. The Rhino Tank had been designed with the possibility of human warfare in mind, and it could handle that task just as well. After all, who else in the wasteland possessed a significant number of tanks? Combined with air support, its thick armor would be a nightmare for any ground force.

The initial approved production was one hundred Rhino Tanks and one hundred and fifty Sand Viper light tanks, which would form the ace of the ground forces.

Another approval transferred two-thirds of the armed helicopters to the Army. This undoubtedly boosted the ground forces’ combat capability, giving them modern equipment and better adaptability to the environment.

This series of changes was only the beginning. The rapid expansion of artillery groups and the manufacturing and deployment of new surface-to-surface missiles began one by one.

Witnessing the “Spring of the Army,” everyone marveled at Mu Gushan’s favor with the Boss. Things that others couldn’t get done before were now being accomplished by him. Every measure he took had a profound impact on the ground forces. It was foreseeable that once the tank units were formed, the Army’s combat power would increase exponentially.

In reality, only Zhou Yuanqiang understood that it wasn’t just about Mu Gushan being his favorite. It was that the Commercial Association, having absorbed the resources of an entire province, simply couldn’t consume them all. Outside Qingyuan City, the piles of steel were larger than the city itself, filled with scrapped cars, construction steel, and all sorts of precious metals. If they only built aircraft, they would never use it all.

Therefore, the tanks that hadn’t been built before due to steel concerns now caught Zhou Yuanqiang’s eye.

In his view, this steel only had value if it was turned into weapons, rather than rusting away in the wasteland. That didn’t suit the Association’s interests, nor did it suit Zhou Yuanqiang’s style. Since the time was ripe, mass production of tanks was put on the agenda.

While the air force’s combat capability was strong, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t want to put all his eggs in one basket. Having a tank unit gave him another ace to play, ensuring he wouldn’t be left helpless if his air force was ever grounded or restricted.

The appearance of tanks would surely test the Association’s logistics.

Parts wear, fuel consumption, mechanical issues, and maintenance difficulties—even in the modern world, these were massive headaches. To get immense power, you needed high-horsepower engines, which turned the tanks into absolute gas-guzzlers, consuming nearly as much as a fighter jet.

Extreme fuel consumption and easily worn parts would surely fray the nerves of the Logistics Department.

In close-quarters combat, it wasn’t so bad. But once the front lines stretched out, whether logistics could keep pace with the tank units became a deciding factor in whether the tanks could even fight. It could be said that the person who jumped the highest when the tank units were formed wasn’t the head of the steel plant or the parts suppliers, but Chen Jianliang of the Logistics Department. He could already foresee his future life being consumed by these steel monsters.

However, that wasn’t even the biggest headache. The key issue was the Commercial Association’s fuel system. Part of it relied on the previously captured refinery and oil wells, while the rest was supplemented by fuel Zhou Yuanqiang brought from the modern world. Only with both was the air force barely sustained. The formation of the tank units meant that no matter how hard Zhou Yuanqiang worked, he couldn’t satisfy the appetite of these fuel-hungry beasts.

Moreover, with the Association’s current development, factory expansions, more machinery, and the planned opening of private vehicle ownership, the demand for fuel was skyrocketing. Relying solely on small wells and personal smuggling was becoming unrealistic.

Therefore, finding new oil fields became an urgent problem that Zhou Yuanqiang needed to solve.

Chapter 308: A Settlement in the Basin

The Commercial Association’s exploration efforts had never ceased…

The number of exploration airships was increasing rapidly. Countless buried people and resources were being discovered by industrious explorers. They were like ants searching for a source of food; once they found something, they immediately summoned more people to transport it. Like a swarm of locusts, the transport airships could dismantle and haul away supplies, factories, and equipment from any secured area, leaving absolutely nothing behind.

As one of the first explorers to graduate, Zhao Datong’s achievements were hardly worth mentioning compared to those of his peers.

One could tell by his name alone—Zhao Datong—that he possessed a simple and honest character. Before the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was founded, he had lived in the refugee camp of the wilderness settlement. He was a man alone, waking up early every day to hunt zombies just to secure enough food for the day. In the post-apocalyptic world, his honest nature made life difficult; he was the type who was easily bullied by others.

Zhao Datong was a man from the countryside. Before he turned thirty, his life had consisted of back-breaking labor in the fields. His wife and five-year-old son were now things of the past, having become two of the billions of zombies when the end of the world arrived. After fleeing his village, he had been a drifter. He had teamed up with others and raided towns for food… After struggling to survive for half a year, he finally arrived at the wilderness settlement.

With his temperament, he wasn’t originally seen as fit for the job of an explorer, but he believed he had a natural talent for it.

Indeed, Zhao Datong’s luck was poor. He knew he wouldn’t be assigned one of the first batches of exploration airships, so he didn’t even bother applying for one. Instead, he spent all his saved crystals to buy enough gasoline, found a motorcycle, and after repairing it, he took his gun and rode out of the city alone, heading into the vast wilderness.

Relying on his memory of the old world, he pinpointed various sites containing resources valuable to the Commercial Association, and his wealth began to accumulate steadily.

He might not have been as well-off as the others, but the frugal Zhao Datong believed that by saving every penny, he would eventually reach his goal. While other explorers were out indulging in wine and women, he would quietly eat his dry rations, keeping his gun close as he led his gradually expanding exploration team into uninhabited regions.

Nearly a year had passed. While others were still renting the Commercial Association’s exploration airships, Zhao Datong surprised everyone by using all his savings to apply for and purchase the first private exploration airship.

The nature of an explorer’s work was tied to danger and opportunity; no one knew what risks the next trip might bring. Consequently, few people actually saved money, and people like Zhao Datong were even rarer. His move was branded as foolish by his fellow explorers. After all, the Commercial Association’s rental airships were also under the command of the renters; there was effectively no difference from owning one.

What was even more unbelievable was that Zhao Datong, after bringing his exploration team and packing enough grain and food to last two or three months, vanished from everyone’s sight.

Three months passed. No one knew where his exploration team had gone or whether they were dead or alive. Given the cruelty of the post-apocalyptic world, people were inclined to believe that Zhao Datong and his crew had surely met their end. Even the Exploration Department had flagged their names in yellow, adding them to the list of the missing.

But only Zhao Datong knew he was still very much alive.

Though he was a simple man from the countryside with little formal education, he understood that the Commercial Association’s development would require more resources. He had to beat everyone else to the punch and find resources that would significantly impact the association’s future. Only by doing so could he earn a first-class exploration medal in one go and live comfortably for the rest of his life.

The Qaidam Basin is approximately 800 kilometers long from east to west and 300 kilometers wide from north to south, covering an area of about 260,000 square kilometers.

At that moment, the exploration airship led by Zhao Datong was soaring over the Qaidam Basin. This place was a world of salt. The lakes of all sizes were filled with glistening white salt crystals. Most notably, the towering oil wells and abandoned refineries scattered about confirmed its reputation as the “Treasure Bowl” of the region.

“Do you see it? This place is vast and boundless, hiding immense wealth—both the kind we can see and the kind we can’t.”

Zhao Datong was in high spirits. He knew that as the first person from the Commercial Association to reach the Qaidam Basin, the coordinates recorded in his notebook were enough to earn every member of his team a first-class exploration medal. He firmly believed that his exploration of the oil wells would allow the Commercial Association to easily reap the rewards of the entire Qaidam Basin.

Perhaps moved by Zhao Datong’s excitement, every explorer was jubilant. Hadn’t they spent three months out here in the wind and sun specifically for the medals they would pin to their chests?

After three months, the helium stored in the airship’s gas bags was running low. It was no longer as easy to maneuver as it had been at the start. This led Zhao Datong to decide that this would be their final scouting flight. After returning to their base and resting for the night, they would head back to Qingyuan City the next morning.

After flying over stretches of desolate land, the airship appeared over the central region of the Qaidam Basin. This was a grassland area inhabited by the survivors of the basin. They had established their own settlement here. Although there were fewer than ten thousand people, Zhao Datong understood how vital these ten thousand people would be to the Commercial Association; they would certainly add a significant achievement to his record.

In the decade before the apocalypse, the government had poured massive amounts of funding and labor into the Qaidam Basin. The emerging cities, the soaring oil wells, and the refineries all required a massive workforce. One could almost say that the people in this central settlement were all professionals in the mining and petroleum industries—ranging from ordinary workers and engineers to managers.

As the exploration airship appeared over a small patch of prairie, the people working below instinctively waved their hands, as if welcoming back a relative returning home.

Given Zhao Datong’s personality, it had been easy for him to integrate into this settlement. From the time he arrived, it had only taken three days for him to lead his team in blending in. As an explorer, his responsibility was to promote the Commercial Association. Out of gratitude to the association, Zhao Datong certainly hadn’t forgotten this duty.

Consequently, the posters he carried became the most popular items in the settlement. Every day, a crowd would gather around him, asking questions about this and that.

Zhao Datong’s honest face and the simple, sincere smile he wore when he spoke made people more inclined to believe everything he said. Those who now yearned for the Yuanqiang Commercial Association naturally helped Zhao Datong explore the Qaidam Basin.

Calling it “exploration” was perhaps an overstatement, as most in the settlement were workers from the mining and oil industries who were intimately familiar with the area. Under their guidance, oil wells were located, and Zhao Datong began recording their condition, the approximate number of zombies in the vicinity, and the potential presence of Special Infected.

The people here were the biggest help in allowing him to record all this data within three months.

These memories flashed by in an instant. Under the control of the flight crew, the exploration airship slowly descended toward an open space in front of a large cluster of tents.

Below was a group of children chasing each other. On this prairie, they lived a carefree life, still enjoying their happy moments.

A few hundred meters from the settlement were patches of tilled fields. As it was now August, the second crop of the season had just been harvested, and they were preparing for the third planting. Most of the people in the settlement were busy in the fields; only a small number of warriors chosen from the settlement did not have to labor. They were responsible for sentry duty and protecting the settlement’s safety.

As Zhao Datong jumped down from the airship, a man in his forties was already waiting for him. “Xiao Zhao, how is it?”

“Brother Wang, I’ve already made contact with the Commercial Association. I believe they will arrive shortly.”

Zhao Datong gave him a reassuring smile and pulled off his gloves. The man he called Brother Wang was named Wang Shiyan. He used to be the manager of a large oil well in Lenghu and was also the leader of this settlement. He was a very capable and educated man. At the very least, Zhao Datong considered himself a mere farmhand compared to even a tenth of the other man’s knowledge.

Wang Shiyan nodded. He glanced at the airship and sighed. “The helium in the airship probably won’t support another takeoff.”

Zhao Datong gave a bitter smile. Having not replenished the helium for three months, the airship’s lift was getting worse and worse. Calculating the distance, it was impossible to fly back to Qingyuan City. This meant that if the Commercial Association didn’t send a team to rendezvous with them, his entire exploration team would be stuck here until the settlement was discovered by someone else.

As dusk approached, the people who had been busy outside returned in small groups, and the scent of food began to waft through the settlement.

Actually, in the Qaidam Basin, many crops planted years ago still existed in large quantities. In the beginning, the people here survived on food scavenged from those abandoned fields. Later, as the crops in those fields went out of season and due to the threat of zombies, they gradually shifted to planting food next to the settlement to ensure a stable supply.

After several years, they had established large-scale cultivation fields.

There were no defensive walls around the settlement. This was mainly because many areas of the Qaidam Basin were far from human habitation, meaning there was no industry to speak of and no building materials like cement. Furthermore, zombies were extremely rare in the area, so they lacked the means and the perceived need to build walls.

Not only that, but the settlement was also severely lacking in weapons, possessing only hunting rifles previously used to keep wild animals away.

The only decent weapons they had were a few Type 81 rifles that Zhao Datong and his team had given them. According to regulations, explorers were equipped with weapons to handle emergencies. Furthermore, the airship’s own firepower was sufficient to guarantee their safety.

After a meal of bean rice, Zhao Datong spent time writing and drawing in his tent, not going to sleep until midnight.

The next morning, the settlement was busy again as people woke early to work. Unfortunately, what greeted them was not the usual morning, but several warriors racing toward them. From the look of crisis on their faces, everyone realized that something had happened.

Sure enough, shortly after, the settlement’s alarm bell rang out, putting everyone on edge.

Zhao Datong bolted awake. His explorer training was no different from that of a specialized soldier, giving him a high level of situational awareness. Hearing the bell, he threw on his clothes, splashed his face with cold water, and headed out with a Type 54 pistol.

In the center of the settlement, Wang Shiyan was questioning several warriors. When he saw Zhao Datong walking over, his usually steady face showed signs of panic. “Xiao Zhao, some morning patrols found a large number of zombies to the east. They seem to be moving this way.” Never having dealt with such a thing, he was losing his composure. “What should we do? We… we don’t have any defenses at all.”

Zhao Datong’s brow furrowed. He said decisively, “Brother Wang, now is not the time to panic. Gather everyone in the settlement. If the number of zombies is huge, the only way out is to evacuate. I don’t think the zombies can move faster than us. I’ll take my men to scout and confirm their numbers.”

Time didn’t allow for much thought. He called over the airship crew and ran toward where it was moored.

Left with no other choice, Wang Shiyan did as instructed and began notifying everyone to assemble, preparing for the worst.

The airship’s takeoff was indeed struggling. Zhao Datong didn’t hesitate and roared, “Throw away everything extra!” He led the way, grabbing the sandbags used to stabilize the gondola and tossing them down. After a brief startle, the other crew members followed suit, throwing out everything unnecessary from the cabin.

As the load lightened, the exploration airship became more nimble once again. It quickly left the ground and flew toward the east of the settlement.

“Damn it, we scouted just a few days ago, and there wasn’t a trace of zombies for miles. How did they just appear out of nowhere?” Zhao Datong looked down at the chaotic settlement. After living there for three months, he had developed deep feelings for the place. He didn’t want to see a settlement that had been built up over years be destroyed by zombies just like that.

With the engine started, the airship’s speed picked up, and it left the settlement behind in moments.

After reaching a certain altitude, just as Wang Shiyan had said, a dark mass of zombies was indeed moving in from the east. Their path was unmistakably headed toward the settlement. Because there was still some distance, it was hard to tell the exact numbers. A conservative estimate put them at around twenty thousand.

The Qaidam Basin was sparsely populated; unless they were near a major town, it was rare to see such a large group of roaming zombies.

The location of the settlement had been chosen very well—in a sparsely populated area with fertile soil. Over the years, hardworking people had turned it into good farmland. Though life was hard and resources were scarce, the people were at least happy. There were even traces of the livestock industry that had once thrived there, with a few remaining cattle and sheep in the settlement, though their numbers were very small.

It was like a living paradise, but it was about to face a test of survival.

Minutes later, the exploration airship flew over the horde. Based on experience, it was indeed a group of about twenty thousand zombies.

If he were in front of the wilderness settlement, Zhao Datong wouldn’t even have blinked. He remembered the great battle led by the Chairman where nearly a million zombies were repelled; these twenty thousand were nothing in comparison. But this settlement was different. It had a population of less than ten thousand and lacked weapons. Forget twenty thousand zombies; even a few thousand would be enough to force them to flee.

“Leader, what should we do?”

Hearing his teammate’s question, Zhao Datong’s brow tightened. He roared in a deep voice, “Lower our altitude! Hit them with the machine guns and rocket launchers! Divert them away from here!”

The crew, who had undergone military training, followed Zhao Datong’s orders as their primary principle. Even knowing that lowering their altitude was dangerous, they complied. Two team members gripped the machine guns on either side of the airship, aiming them at the dense mass of zombies below.

When the massive airship was high in the sky, the zombies below hadn’t reacted. But as the altitude dropped, they began to respond. One by one, they looked up at the behemoth, baring their teeth and claws, halting their movement.

“Fire! Give it to them!”

Once they were at the right height, Zhao Datong shouted the command. The already prepared temporary machine gunners began strafing the zombies below frantically.

The power of the machine guns was on full display. Bullets whistled through the air, and wherever they hit, zombies collapsed. Those unlucky enough to be hit in the head never got back up, while those hit in other parts of their bodies struggled to crawl back to their feet as they fell. Even wounds the size of a fist had limited impact on them.

Zhao Datong shouldered a rocket launcher himself. He aimed at the densest part of the crowd and sent a rocket flying. The light from the explosion reflected off his face.

Suddenly, a glob of green liquid soared into the air. Amidst the shouts of the crew, it hit the airship’s gas bag with a wet “thwack.” The extreme corrosiveness caused green smoke to rise as a huge hole appeared. The helium inside seemed to find a vent and began rushing out violently.

The exploration airship suddenly jolted violently, nearly throwing everyone in the gondola off their feet.

“It’s a Spitter! It’s a Spitter! Climb! Climb!”

At Zhao Datong’s roar, everyone went into a frenzy, trying to maneuver the airship higher. But in the next moment, another glob of liquid hit the envelope, causing another gas bag to leak its helium. For an airship already low on gas, this was a crippling blow.

According to the Commercial Association’s airship flight manual, flying below 2,300 meters in areas with zombie activity was prohibited. Clearly, the airship had just violated this regulation and was paying a heavy price for it—a price that might lead to the death of the crew and the destruction of the ship.

Chapter 309: Maiden Battle

The size of the exploration airship dictated that it could not possess a dozen or even dozens of gas bags like other airships. Although the danger of attack had been considered during its initial design, its small volume meant it ultimately only had four gas bags.

The liquid from the gross monster was incredibly potent when it splashed. The holes it corroded instantly were large enough to let all the helium in the gas bag escape within a minute. Two gas bags were hit in succession, and the exploration airship, now with only half its lift, could no longer support the weight of the gondola. No matter how much Zhao Datong roared, the exploration airship continued to slide toward the ground.

The safety features of an airship were fully demonstrated here.

Even with only half its gas bags, it did not nose-dive like a plane. Instead, it glided, descending slowly toward the ground.

Under the thrust of the engines and the efforts of Zhao Datong and his entire flight crew, they at least managed to prevent the exploration airship from falling directly into the zombie horde. Under their control, the exploration airship made a near-forced landing. The gondola smashed onto the grass below, dragging out a long furrow as it skidded.

The violent jolting of the gondola tossed the people inside around like shuttlecocks.

The moment the exploration airship finally came to a halt, Zhao Datong struggled to his feet. A piece of jagged metal had sliced his arm, leaving a large gash that was bleeding profusely. He pulled out the Type 54 pistol at his waist, kicked open the gondola door with a few hard strikes, and roared, “Everyone up! Get up, everyone! Leave this place!”

Fortunately, although everyone was injured, no one had died. At Zhao Datong’s shout, they all struggled out of the gondola.

Zhao Datong ordered his men to dismantle the two machine guns from the airship’s gondola and said, “We’re leaving. The zombies will be here any second. We need to regroup with Brother Wang and the others to get out of here.”

The zombies were overwhelming. To survive, they had to abandon everything. Lost farmland could be replanted, and lost homes could be rebuilt, but once people were gone, everything truly was lost. Everyone understood this point deeply.

The spot where the exploration airship had crashed was only a few hundred meters from the zombie horde, which was enough for Zhao Datong and his men to put some distance between themselves and the monsters.

By the time they returned to the settlement, its panicked inhabitants were frantically packing their essential food and tents. Those who moved faster had already packed everything and, under direction, were leaving their home of several years in the direction opposite the zombies. Perhaps dissatisfied with how slowly some people were moving, Wang Shiyan was shouting, signaling everyone to move faster.

Seeing Zhao Datong and the others return covered in wounds and without the exploration airship, Wang Shiyan asked with concern, “Are you all alright?”

Zhao Datong shook his head and said, “There are long-range gross monsters in the zombie horde. The airship was hit. We suffered some minor injuries during the crash. But don’t worry, they’re all just scratches.” He looked at the people who were still dallying and said urgently, “The zombies will arrive here in half an hour at most. It’s better to make them hurry.”

Wang Shiyan and his people had never experienced the terrifying scene of a zombie tide, so they lacked a sufficient understanding of the horde’s power. Consequently, their slow pace made even Zhao Datong anxious.

Wang Shiyan was well aware of Zhao Datong’s capabilities, so he did not hesitate to rush over to those who were still dragging their feet. He shouted at them to speed up. Zhao Datong couldn’t understand it either—they didn’t have much, so why were they moving so slowly? In the face of a crisis, even food could be abandoned, let alone tents.

By the time everyone finished packing and left, the settlement was empty, leaving behind only a ground full of trash and discarded remains. However, the dark, dense figures of the zombies appeared behind the retreating column. Perhaps smelling the scent of humans, they began to go wild. Their speed suddenly increased as they surged forward in pursuit.

Zombies usually moved slowly, with a swaying, sluggish gait. But once sound, smell, or moving objects stimulated them, they moved only slightly slower than a normal human’s run. High-level zombies usually acted just like ordinary zombies—sluggish and very slow. But once stimulated, they would reveal a terrifying speed that could deal a fatal blow to humans.

Everything could have been avoided, but because of some people’s dallying and their lack of understanding regarding zombies, the distance between them and the horde wasn’t great enough.

Inevitably, the zombies, driven wild by the scent of humans, became frenzied. High-level zombies began to break away from the main horde one after another, chasing after the retreating humans.

Humans have the concept of stamina, but zombies are like perpetual motion machines. They do not know fatigue or anything else; all they know is to kill and shred any living thing. They were especially sensitive to the scent of living animals; once they caught it, they would bite and hold on relentlessly until they killed and devoured their prey, or the prey disappeared into the distance.

From the moment he saw the high-level zombies break away from the horde, Zhao Datong realized things were bad. He immediately organized all the members of the exploration team and the dozens of armed warriors from the settlement to act as a rearguard. On the other hand, he requested Wang Shiyan to make the people in the back abandon their belongings and run empty-handed.

The temperature in the Qaidam Basin was somewhat similar to the wasteland, though not quite as harsh. However, temperatures could be 5 or 6 degrees Celsius at night and potentially rise to 40 degrees during the day. If they abandoned their tents and bedding, they would surely suffer through cold and miserable nights. But facing the high-level zombies chasing from behind, they had to discard these burdens to survive.

“Drop everything! Run! Run! Run for me!”

Roaring at the top of his lungs, Wang Shiyan rushed behind those who refused to let go, ripping the food and quilts from their backs and throwing them to the ground. He roared, “If you don’t do as I say, are you waiting for the zombies to eat you in a moment? Those who want to die can keep carrying things! Those who don’t want to die, throw it all away and run for me!”

Perhaps the memory of the zombies’ terrifying appearance took effect, as the people finally woke up. They all threw their things down and began to run under Wang Shiyan’s command.

Following everything he had been taught during training regarding high-level zombies, Zhao Datong picked out those with Type 81 rifles to serve as a precision strike team. The others with various firearms formed several rows to create the densest possible curtain of bullets during volleys. This was intended to halt the high-level zombies’ advance, giving the precision strike team a moment as brief as a breath to improve their chances of hitting the zombies in the head.

Looking at the dozens of charging high-level zombies, one could judge their level based on how far ahead or behind they were.

Every person’s palms were sweating. Anyone who had seen the ferocity of high-level zombies couldn’t help but tremble. Once high-level zombies got close, their frantic, agile, and rapid claws meant no one would be spared. It was like a wolf entering a flock of sheep; there wasn’t even a single round’s worth of opposition.

When the first zombie entered the two-hundred-meter range, Zhao Datong roared, “Everyone, ready!”

With that roar, the dozens of suddenly tensed men felt their muscles tighten. Beads of sweat rolled down their foreheads, making them feel feverish.

When the first zombie broke Zhao Datong’s mental threshold again, only fifty meters away, every detail of its form was clearly visible. Its hideous face was filled with endless white decay, its teeth were sharp and mottled with black and yellow as its mouth gaped open. A dark tongue lolled and lashed as it ran.

“Fire!”

With a shout that felt like it had exploded from his chest, Zhao Datong raised his Type 54 pistol and fired with a crisp “bang,” successfully hitting the zombie’s chest and blowing a large hole in its rotten flesh. Inside was a dark mass, but unfortunately, Zhao Datong didn’t get a clear look. The bullets fired by the others tore its entire chest to shreds.

Intense gunfire instantly became the theme song of this stretch of grassland.

But very quickly, Zhao Datong saw a streak of fire flash and vanish. Then, in the spot where that zombie had just been, the air was instantly over-pressured, and the air distorted, turning into a massive, strange circle. Before he could even realize what was happening, the few zombies enveloped within were rapidly disintegrated, and then a massive crimson fireball erupted. The violent explosion and the ensuing shockwave knocked everyone present to the ground.

A sharp whistling sound roared past. Amidst the massive boom, a dark shadow rapidly climbed into the sky… A seven-colored umbrella, appearing like a scene frozen in time.

Covered in dirt, Zhao Datong struggled to crawl up, desperately spitting out the sand from his mouth and shaking it from his hair. He seemed to realize something and suddenly burst into wild laughter, roaring, “It’s the seven-colored umbrella! They’re here! They’ve finally come!”

Responding to him were several more missiles trailing tongues of fire, directly hitting the remaining high-level zombies. The once-invincible creatures were blown to smithereens by the missiles.

In the distant sky, a gigantic dark shadow was slowly approaching. As it got closer, it revealed its true form. Its body, which could no longer be described as merely “huge,” looked entirely like a moving fortress in the sky. If not for the seven-colored umbrella logo that took up half its body, one would think they were watching a science-fiction blockbuster.

Zhao Datong’s mouth hung open. When he had set out, he had seen the Hercules transport airship. The shock then was natural; compared to that, the Hercules was like an eagle, and the exploration airship wasn’t even a sparrow—there was simply no comparison.

But what was he seeing now? A volume many, many times larger than a Hercules transport aircraft. Although it still had the appearance of an airship, Zhao Datong didn’t dare call it one.

As everyone watched, small black dots surged out from its top, emitting a roaring sound. Without needing to form up, they dived toward the zombie horde below. Soon, missiles detached from beneath their wings and plunged toward the zombies on the ground, exploding into massive fireballs.

For an air force that had grown to thirty fighter jets, twenty thousand zombies were simply a brief slaughter. In just a few minutes, not a single intact zombie stood on this grassland. Only craters and zombies struggling to crawl remained to prove the earth-shattering reversal that had occurred in a single moment.

As if completing an insignificant task, the fighter jets began to return, landing and being recovered one by one onto the giant fortress in the sky.

From beginning to end, Zhao Datong and everyone else present were like statues, staring at the sky in stunned silence. Even the well-traveled Zhao Datong had no idea what this thing was. He knew that when he left the Commercial Association, no such aircraft carrier airship existed.

He didn’t know, of course, what the information he sent back meant to Zhou Yuanqiang.

Zhou Yuanqiang was still having a headache over fuel for his armored forces, but who knew that someone would immediately deliver such a perfectly timed solution? These were the nearly twenty completed oil wells in the Qaidam Basin. In other words, as long as the Commercial Association took over and a group of workers started them up, they could immediately bring fuel to the Commercial Association, solving the fuel crisis.

Speaking of oil fields, the most famous would share the name of the Daqing Oil Field in Heilongjiang, which ranked second in the world in reserves. With it, the current population of the Commercial Association would never have to worry about fuel again. Even starting just one of the most productive oil wells would solve the Commercial Association’s problems.

But the Daqing Oil Field was so far away that it was simply beyond their ability to develop.

Previously, Zhou Yuanqiang had only been staring at the major oil fields, overlooking the nearby Qaidam Basin. One must know that after nearly a decade of development, the Qaidam Basin had initially been built into a resource and industrial base. The mining of various minerals, the extraction of oil, and the pumping of natural gas were already very well-established.

The helium for airships generally comes from natural gas, from which it must be refined. This was equally vital for the helium-starved Commercial Association.

The amount of helium required to complete the design and construction of the new aircraft carrier airship exceeded the capacity of both the Commercial Association and Zhou Yuanqiang. Therefore, the appearance of the Qaidam Basin was not just a matter of oil, but also a solution to the helium problem and other precious metal mining issues.

It was exactly this feedback from Zhao Datong that immediately made Zhou Yuanqiang take notice.

Coincidentally, the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier needed a practical test, so Zhou Yuanqiang simply decided to have the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier conduct a live combat test. It was dispatched to the Qaidam Basin for support and deployment missions. Later, a large number of transport airships would also set out. If Zhao Datong’s report was true, redeveloping the Qaidam Basin would become a major task for the Commercial Association—even a second branch might be established there.

As a vessel still in its testing phase, the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier, like a surface aircraft carrier, required a long testing cycle. Therefore, Tu Long, the commander of the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier, would certainly not miss this combat opportunity. Once he received Zhou Yuanqiang’s order, he immediately began ascent and headed toward the coordinates in the Qaidam Basin.

Because it was in the testing phase, the entire Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier only carried half its complement of fighter jets. Even so, Tu Long did not dare be careless, carefully ordering his men to check every area and every detail. As its primary structural designer, Tu Long’s familiarity with the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier was unmatched in the Commercial Association.

After nearly a night of flight, they finally appeared near the coordinates sent back by Zhao Datong.

It was perhaps lucky; if the Commercial Association had sent a transport airship instead of an aircraft carrier, Zhao Datong and the others would have been in dire straits.

Upon discovering the situation below, Tu Long, having a rare opportunity to test the aircraft carrier, naturally wouldn’t miss it. At his command, the five catapult fighter jets in the rapid-response bays started up first. They were catapulted into the sky to launch the fastest rescue attack, followed by the fighter jets taking off from the conventional runway.

After two months of training, and with the flight deck length not differing much from a standard runway, taking off and landing were no longer difficult tasks.

With pilots possessing rich combat experience, thirty fighter jets ganging up on twenty thousand zombies was a piece of cake. Each fighter jet needed only a few missiles to settle the zombie horde below. When they returned, despite the aircraft carrier swaying slightly, all the fighter jets still landed safely. With the help of the ground crew, they were secured to the deck and resupplied with the ammunition and fuel they had just consumed.

And this unprecedented aircraft carrier naturally left Zhao Datong and his men with no idea what was going on.

After they regained their senses, led by Zhao Datong, everyone began to cheer, waving their hands at the massive aircraft carrier in the sky that now appeared only the size of a fist.

It wasn’t until the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier confirmed there was no danger and began to slowly lower its altitude that Zhao Datong and the others noticed six military airships guarding the front, back, left, right, top, and bottom of this gargantuan aircraft carrier. They hadn’t seen them before because they were too far away, but now that they were closer, they could finally see them clearly.

Zhao Datong became incredibly proud, pointing at the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier, which looked like a mountain fortress, and said, “Look, that’s our Commercial Association’s air force.”

The people who had been fleeing had long since stopped, staring at this behemoth that descended slowly from the sky like a mountain. If the familiar seven-colored umbrella hadn’t been printed on its massive body, they would have fled in terror long ago when faced with this unknown object.

Now, everyone realized that Zhao Datong’s boasting about the Commercial Association wasn’t too much; it was too little…

Could a faction that could manufacture a new type of airship never before seen in world history, establish a complete industrial system in a post-apocalyptic world where everything was scarce, and stand firm against increasingly massive zombie attacks, be simple?

Perhaps, as Zhao Datong had fanatically claimed, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was the hope of people in the end of the world… leading humanity back to its peak.

Chapter 310: Lenghu

It loomed like a colossal mountain peak, exerting a pressure so heavy it made one feel breathless.

A length of 960 meters was truly staggering. Coupled with the fact that it was forging a path in human history that had never been traveled before, the sight of it evoked a profound sense of the chasm between the insignificant and the great. Even though the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier was hovering high in the sky at an altitude of nearly 2,000 meters, the shadow it cast resembled a stormy day, shrouding the earth in gloom.

The flight deck at the top of the Bird’s Nest was originally over a hundred meters above its base. When it was stationed on the ground, transport helicopters were still required to ferry personnel.

To accommodate its overly massive frame, the Commercial Association was already constructing a specialized aviation port for docking such giant airships. Once completed, this 200-meter-high aviation port would allow the airship to dock with its dorsal flight deck level with the port, facilitating more convenient personnel movement, equipment transport, and the replenishment of various supplies.

It was no wonder that countries with weak economic power generally did not possess surface aircraft carriers. The primary reason was that the requirements for military ports and specific sea lanes differed from those of other vessels. A carrier required an entire suite of supporting facilities and a perfected logistics chain to function.

Take the current Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier, for instance. It had taken seven months to build. Calculating the manpower and resources utilized, its construction cost had reached approximately eight billion dollars. Furthermore, the fleet assigned to it—consisting of over a hundred fighter jets, attack helicopters, bombers, and six military airships acting as escorts—was another enormous sum. All together, the total cost reached a staggering seventeen billion dollars.

A heavy surface aircraft carrier usually cost between 3.5 and 4 billion dollars, yet the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier cost double that. It was truly sensational.

Zhou Yuanqiang had been quite shocked when he first heard these figures, but that was only based on calculations from a time of peace. According to the valuation methods of the apocalypse, it didn’t actually cost that much. This was because the countless resources under the Commercial Association were nearly free, and personnel wages were low. There was no such thing as a deficit for the Commercial Association, and thus, no financial pressure.

If he had to purchase everything from the outside world, Zhou Yuanqiang probably wouldn’t even have to worry about the Bird’s Nest; he would have rolled his eyes at the cost of just a few ordinary fighter jets.

The construction of the aviation port was equally daunting. The list of laborers required and the quantity of materials needed were enough to shock anyone. It was to be built in a range of rolling hills to the west of Qingyuan City, next to the Wasteland Military Base. Half of a mountain would be sliced away and excavated to form a cliff-like mountainside, with the slopes reinforced using cement and giant stones. Once that was finished, the top of the mountain would be developed into a port capable of docking over five airship aircraft carriers.

Regardless, Zhou Yuanqiang had clutched his chest when he heard the budget.

It was grandmother-flipping terrifying. Zhou Yuanqiang secretly calculated the costs in modern terms; building this super-sized aviation port would require at least fifty billion dollars to complete.

If it weren’t for the fact that resources were scattered everywhere in the apocalypse and labor wasn’t an issue, Zhou Yuanqiang would have definitely waved his hand and told everyone to pack up and go home. In reality, a budget of at least 150 million Seven-Colored Currency was needed for the workers’ wages. As for things like facilities and equipment, they were everywhere in the apocalypse; they didn’t require money at all.

In the end, the only real expenditure in the apocalypse was labor wages. This was why the Commercial Association could expand so. insanely without ever worrying about a financial deficit.

The construction of the aviation port would take a very long time, at least three years to complete.

This illustrated why people said an aircraft carrier’s true cost wasn’t in its construction, but in its supporting facilities. The expenses required to roll out the entire industry were truly staggering. Even when the domestic economy back in the old world was expanding rapidly, the government hadn’t dared to rashly build a gold-swallowing beast of this level. In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, that had been a rational decision.

The morning temperature in the Qaidam Basin was around ten degrees Celsius, so the people aboard the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier weren’t heavily affected.

In the absence of wind, the Bird’s Nest could hover very steadily at an altitude of 2,000 meters. With specialized transport helicopters capable of ferrying eighteen people to the ground at once, over a dozen transport helicopters took off from the flight deck after the airship stabilized, descending toward the earth.

One by one, fully armed soldiers jumped down from the transport helicopters, quickly forming a hundred-man unit.

After being away from his new home in Qingyuan City for three months, Zhao Datong certainly had reason to be excited upon seeing the soldiers who guarded the Commercial Association. He pulled his carefully preserved Exploration Medal from his pocket and pinned it to his chest. The other explorers followed suit, looking excitedly at the small squad of soldiers approaching them.

“Salute!”

Even though Tu Long was the highest commanding officer of the Bird’s Nest and concurrently served as the Commander of the Airship Department, he still maintained deep respect for the brave explorers. Thus, it was not Zhao Datong who saluted first; instead, Tu Long led his soldiers in saluting these few brave explorers.

The foundation of the Commercial Association was built step by step through the collective efforts of countless people.

According to the regulations of the Commercial Association, any official, regardless of rank, had the duty to salute those who had made significant contributions to the Association first.

It was precisely this kind of interpersonal relationship, devoid of class discrimination, that led to the iron-clad unity the Commercial Association enjoyed now. Within the Association, every person who earned a medal received unprecedented respect. Carrying a medal meant that even a official at the department head level would salute you upon meeting.

Zhao Datong and his men hurriedly returned a military salute, saying, “No, please, we should be the ones saluting you.”

Tu Long smiled and said, “No, you are the heroes of the Commercial Association and deserve full respect.” He extended his hand and added, “Commander of the Airship Department and Supreme Commander of the Bird’s Nest, Tu Long. On the Chairman’s orders, I have come to provide support.”

Even though the Commercial Association did not promote class distinctions, concepts held for thousands of years were impossible to change overnight.

The titles of Commander and Supreme Commander were enough to shock Zhao Datong and his team. Before the apocalypse, they were just ordinary citizens or farmers; the highest officials they might have seen were town mayors or bureau chiefs. Now, Tu Long’s status was that of a general-level official; how could they not be stunned?

“Zhao Datong, ID number 3911, first batch of graduate explorers. It is an honor to meet you.”

Tu Long had already guessed his identity and teased, “The Chairman even knows your name. He repeatedly instructed me to ensure your safety. Old Zhao, I think you won’t be able to escape receiving a First-Class Exploration Medal this time.”

Zhao Datong grew even more emotional and stammered, “The… the Chairman… thank you, thank the Chairman.”

After the pleasantries, Zhao Datong introduced his team members. After Tu Long shook hands with each of them, he said, “The follow-up transport airships will arrive this afternoon. Our primary task is to establish good relations with the local settlement and set up a camp for tonight. According to the Chairman’s intentions, this place may become a branch of the Commercial Association, turned into a resource base.”

Through his three months of observation, Zhao Datong understood the conditions of the Qaidam Basin very well. The richness of the resources here made it a strategic location of incalculable value for the development of the Commercial Association. He said, “Rest assured, Commander Tu. The people here have been waiting for this day for a long time. They also hope to return to their former jobs.”

A brief introduction to the settlement’s situation left Tu Long overjoyed. Having nearly ten thousand workers, all of whom were experienced veterans, would make the entire construction process much easier.

The introduction to Wang Shiyan was also very pleasant. After all, the atmosphere of the Commercial Association was one that respected capable individuals, and Wang Shiyan’s extensive management experience in the oil industry was a rare treasure for the Association. If the Commercial Association wanted to achieve anything in the Qaidam Basin, they would have to rely on people like him.

However, it wasn’t time to discuss those matters yet. The first task was to build a new temporary camp.

Tu Long had risen to his current position step by step from being a Zombie Hunter. He didn’t carry an air of arrogance; on the contrary, he was very peaceful. While setting up the camp, he even joined the soldiers in helping with the assembly.

This approachable manner immediately gained the approval of everyone in the Qaidam Basin settlement. In their hearts, the status of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association rose another level. Now, they looked toward the unknown Commercial Association with even more anticipation.

With nearly ten thousand people working, the task of setting up tents didn’t take long. Two hours later, a temporary camp had been established.

By noon, smoke from cooking fires rose throughout the camp. Earthen stoves were dug out, and cooking pots were set up. Wheat was the most common crop grown here, so after a quick wash, people put it into the pots. Just a quick boil brought out the unique fragrance of the wheat.

Tu Long, accompanied by two guards, Zhao Datong, and Wang Shiyan, was digging out an earthen stove. Tu Long found this kind of activity, similar to a picnic, quite interesting. Unfortunately, his skills weren’t quite up to par, and the stove he dug was completely unusable. In contrast, Zhao Datong, with his farming background, dug one out in a few strokes and set up a pot, using the white rice Tu Long had brought down.

While waiting for the rice to cook, Tu Long and Wang Shiyan sat to the side, watching Zhao Datong bustle about, both of them smiling.

In the afternoon, over a dozen transport airships arrived, bringing more soldiers and various supplies. After spending the night, under Wang Shiyan’s guidance and led by the Bird’s Nest, a massive airship fleet was formed and headed toward Lenghu. The goal of this trip was to reclaim Lenghu, the largest oil base in the Qaidam Basin.

The Qaidam Basin was already sparsely populated, and the Lenghu area even more so; it was almost entirely composed of workers, with no large population to speak of.

When the massive airship fleet appeared over Lenghu, zombies could be seen wandering everywhere below. Many of their clothes were tattered, but one could still tell they had been workers before they died. Some even wore helmets that hadn’t fallen off after years, a truly amazing sight.

As soon as the Bird’s Nest arrived in the orle, five bombers began taking off from the flight deck, banking away with a roar.

To protect the facilities, the use of explosive weapons was prohibited during the battle. Thus, the five bombers were equipped exclusively with crystal aerial bombs. This method would be used to annihilate the zombies below. It was currently one of the best methods available.

The five bombers circled in the sky for a moment, and after confirming their respective targets, they began to sweep over Lenghu, dropping the crystal aerial bombs one by one.

Like rain, a large number of crystal aerial bombs exploded a hundred meters in the air, splitting into dozens of discharge balls. As they fell, they released 500 volts of electricity. Any zombie within range of a discharge ball would be struck by flickering arcs of light that instantly destroyed their brains.

After several years, the electronic products in Lenghu had long since ceased to function, so the discharge balls wouldn’t cause much peripheral damage.

Once the bombers finished their mission, they landed back on the Bird’s Nest. Over a dozen attack helicopters then took to the air, carrying full loads of soldiers to the ground. Within ten minutes, they would launch a ground assault on Lenghu to clear out any zombies the crystal aerial bombs hadn’t reached.

The dozen or so transport airships detached from the Bird’s Nest and slowly landed in the areas cleared by the ground troops, delivering more soldiers.

The electrical discharge from the crystal aerial bombs lasted for ten minutes, so the troops had to wait for them to dissipate before entering Lenghu. Fortunately, ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye. Under the command of their officers, the fully armed soldiers began their charge into Lenghu.

The buildings in Lenghu were scattered, and since not many zombies had survived the crystal aerial bombs, the ground troops took over the entire area without much effort.

The Commercial Association’s goal wasn’t to loot and leave, but to establish a continuous supply of oil, natural gas, and various metals. To prevent large-scale zombie swarms from appearing, Lenghu had to be rebuilt, with a defensive wall of sufficient height and width and a permanent garrison of soldiers.

With Lenghu reclaimed, the Commercial Association officially established its second branch here: the Lenghu Branch.

To meet the operational requirements, the Commercial Association transferred a group of people from Tianzhou City and Qingyuan City to move to Lenghu. Following training, they would take up positions in oil and natural gas extraction. At the same time, a force of ten thousand soldiers, fifty attack helicopters, and three military airships were stationed here long-term.

Wang Shiyan was appointed as the first general manager of the newly formed Oil Company under the Commercial Association, enjoying the status of a deputy部长.

Before the apocalypse, he had only managed a single oil well with a few dozen workers. Now, suddenly placed in charge of over ten thousand people and managing as many as twenty oil wells, the surprise and sense of being valued made Wang Shiyan feel as if he were in a dream.

Understanding the weight of his responsibility, Wang Shiyan led a group of familiar technical engineers to the first oil well in Lenghu, working hard to repair the damaged machinery.

The oil wells here hadn’t actually been sabotaged; it was simply that they hadn’t been maintained for years, causing issues with mechanical wiring and electronic components. These could be fixed by simply replacing the parts. As for their parts requests, Zhou Yuanqiang immediately returned to the modern world and used his trading company to purchase everything they needed.

Through these concerted efforts, the first oil well was repaired and officially put into operation, continuously pumping crude oil.

Lenghu had well-equipped refineries, many of them differing in size. This legacy of the past now benefited the Commercial Association; the refineries could resume work with very little maintenance. The only real obstacle was the severed power transmission system.

To solve this, the Commercial Association had to relocate the second crystal power plant currently under construction in its entirety to Lenghu to provide sufficient electricity.

After a month, most of the oil wells in Lenghu resumed operation, and thick smoke once again rose from the refineries. The once desolate Lenghu began to bustle with life again. Besides sentry duty, the ten thousand garrisoned troops helped build the defensive wall. The thirty thousand workers were deployed to every post that needed them.

After guarding Lenghu for nearly a month, the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier battle group began its return journey, concluding its month-long test phase.

According to the Commercial Association’s deployment, at least twenty transport airships would be needed for oil transportation to ensure the Association’s normal demand was met. If the rights for private car use were opened, fuel consumption would double again, requiring at least fifty transport airships dedicated to fuel transport. In the future, as fuel consumption increased, transportation difficulties would only grow.

Devoting too many transport airships would seriously affect the Commercial Association’s trade activities in other regions. Withdrawing twenty ships had already resulted from canceling several routes. If they invested in manufacturing new transport airships, it would interfere with the production of new airship aircraft carriers.

Moreover, the oil production in Lenghu was extremely high; even fifty transport airships could not handle the entire transport task.

In human history, the main force of transportation was still not aircraft, because every additional kilogram increased fuel consumption, leading to very high costs. Transportation mainly relied on roads, railways, river shipping, and the largest of all, maritime shipping.

Highways were out of the question; they were almost entirely severed by zombies in the apocalypse, and their efficiency was too low. As for river shipping, there were no connecting waterways between Lenghu and the Commercial Association, making it as impossible as maritime shipping. That left rail transport as the primary option; railways once handled over 70% of the entire country’s transport business.

The rail network on the mainland was very comprehensive, reaching almost every city above the second-tier level. This provided the Commercial Association with a high-volume transport method for the future.

Chapter 311: Engineering Airships

“No danger in the vicinity. Permission to land, permission to land!”

The scout held his binoculars, repeatedly confirming that there were no zombies in this stretch of hills before calling for the engineering airship to slowly descend from its altitude of 3,000 meters.

Airships had now evolved beyond simple transport vessels toward multifunctional utility. As the Airship Design Bureau matured, the ships they designed surpassed modern concepts of airship utility. In particular, the introduction of the engineering airship brought the application of these vessels to a pinnacle.

Engineering airships integrated various types of machinery into their gondolas, allowing them to perform aerial, maritime, and terrestrial operations across diverse terrains like mountains and canyons. They were the primary construction and repair force for the Commercial Association, bearing the heavy responsibility of building large-scale structures.

The engineering airship descended toward a railway line that had been abandoned for several years. The landing site was a derelict field overgrown with head-high weeds, some of which were beginning to wither in the September heat.

Airships came in over a dozen size classes. This one was in the same class as a military airship, possessing a massive hull designed for long-range field operations. As it touched down amidst the weeds, the gondola doors slid open. A dozen soldiers rushed out first; half maintained a perimeter, while the other half pulled hidden ropes from the bottom of the gondola to find trees suitable for mooring the airship.

Once safety was confirmed for the third time, over twenty maintenance engineers in blue overalls and blue helmets stepped off the ship. Carrying toolboxes and escorted by soldiers, they quickly hacked through the low shrubs lining the track and stepped onto the railway.

Due to years of disuse, the rails were pitted with rust. The gravel-strewn track was choked with weeds, nearly burying the line from sight.

Of course, weeds would not hinder a train’s normal operation; they weren’t the real reason the engineers had come. What actually impacted the trains were trees that had fallen across the tracks and sections that had collapsed under the wash of rainwater due to a lack of maintenance.

Even more serious were missing or displaced rails…

Ever since the Commercial Association proposed restoring rail transport, the line from Qingyuan City through the Qaidam Basin to Lenghu had been placed on the emergency repair list. If everything went according to plan, the railway would become one of the Commercial Association’s most vital links between Lenghu and Tianzhou City, completely solving the travel difficulties of those who currently had to rely solely on airships.

However, after nearly six and a half years of neglect, various problems had cropped up, requiring the Commercial Association to invest significant time, manpower, and resources into repairs.

There was another issue: the railway covered a vast area, passing through cities, towns, the county seat, and mountain ranges. Large numbers of zombies remained a major obstacle to using the rails. Perhaps the only saving grace was that this particular stretch leading to Lenghu was entirely within the Commercial Association’s scouting range, and the area was sparsely populated, meaning there were fewer zombies to worry about.

The Commercial Association had dispatched a total of ten engineering airships and a large crew to overhaul the entire line.

The ship currently on-site was just one of those ten. The crew—composed of soldiers, flight personnel, maintenance engineers, and scouts—worked together to handle any problems encountered along the tracks.

In truth, many sections only had minor issues, but for a train, even a small flaw could lead to a fatal disaster. This increased the engineers’ workload significantly; the engineering airship spent its time leapfrogging along the line, constantly rising and descending.

The problem in this section wasn’t particularly large; it was mainly a landslide that had buried the tracks, requiring the removal of mud and rock.

With the widespread use of communicators, the engineers who identified the problem quickly called over the engineering airship parked nearby. After it took to the air, it hovered at a low altitude over the landslide. As the machinery in the gondola powered up with a roar, one of the excavating arms was activated.

The flight crew operating the airship were all veterans. Under their control, the engineering airship could descend precisely to the required height for operation. The flexible excavating arm scooped up massive amounts of earth. With the help of a dozen small thrusters distributed around the hull, the ship could maneuver nimbly in all directions, eventually dumping the debris into the adjacent wasteland.

Once the bulk of the landslide was cleared, the finer details were left to manual labor.

After clearing all the debris, the engineers tested the rails for alignment issues. Only after confirming the track met railway standards and could safely support a train did they pack up their tools and return to the airship. It climbed once more, slowly following the tracks forward.

Before the end of the world, many trains traveled these rails. Inevitably, after traveling for over an hour, the engineering airship encountered a train that had halfway derailed. The engine and several carriages were buried in an adjacent field. Over the years, the green paint had peeled away, revealing flourishing blossoms of rust.

In those few years, the people who had died on the train and turned into zombies hadn’t all left; some still wandered the vicinity.

Likely due to the wilderness environment, these creatures looked like mud-men. Covered in dirt and grime, moss had actually begun to grow on their bodies.

Initially, the scouts on the airship didn’t pay them much mind, thinking they were just mounds of earth that vaguely resembled people. However, as the airship drew closer, the sound of the engines seemed to disturb them. One by one, they crawled out of the mud like clay figures, clawing at the air.

Those lying on the tracks, covered in weeds and moss, would have been impossible to spot even with binoculars from a high altitude if the noise hadn’t startled them. Who would have guessed that a clump of mossy weeds was actually a zombie capable of delivering a fatal blow?

Seeing zombies in this state for the first time gave everyone on the engineering airship quite a shock. While feeling lucky they hadn’t landed blindly, they immediately moved the airship to a safe altitude.

The appearance of Bird Zombies meant the sky was no longer absolutely safe, making a lone airship like this quite vulnerable. However, analysis from the Intelligence Department and ubiquitous scout planes had confirmed that Bird Zombies were few in number and non-existent in this specific region.

Due to their dirt-covered appearance, these zombies were instantly dubbed “Mud Zombies.”

After observing from a high altitude for a while, they determined there were only about a hundred zombies remaining in the train cars. They were no different from ordinary zombies and showed no signs of being Special Infected. Their only “skill”—if it could be called that—was using the moss and weeds on their bodies as natural camouflage to ambush the unwary.

A hundred zombies was a simple task for the dozen soldiers stationed on the airship.

The airship dropped the soldiers off a short distance away and then rose back into the air. It hovered directly over the derailed train, making a great deal of noise to lure out any other hidden zombies.

The tactic worked. Several more zombies crawled out of the mangled carriages.

They had likely been severely injured when the train derailed. Through the binoculars, one could see they were mangled—limbs snapped and hanging by mere threads of tendon as they stumbled out.

It wasn’t just these few. There were also those who had been thrown into the fields during the crash. After turning, they had used the fields as their ground zero, rolling around until they formed muddy pits where they lay in wait. As they struggled to stand and crawled out of these pits, mud dripped from their bodies, and thick leeches clung to their flesh. Rotting meat, caked in mud, split open to reveal pale, soggy wounds where white corpse-worms writhed.

These peculiar zombies were truly a surprise; they were natural masters of camouflage.

While the engineering airship carried several rocket launchers and machine guns, they couldn’t exactly use them on the railway. A single rocket blast would mean the crew would have to spend another half-day repairing the tracks they just fixed—it simply wasn’t worth it.

The soldiers selected for this duty were all battle-hardened elites. Though they were only a squad of a dozen, their combat effectiveness was formidable. Once off the airship, they quickly assigned roles and crept toward the derailed train.

Drawn by the noise of the hovering airship above, the zombies didn’t notice the ground-based threat.

The soldiers took their positions and opened fire. A dozen of the closest zombies fell instantly, their heads pierced. Pieces of dried mud and moss flew as the bullets struck home. Because they had remained in such a damp environment for so long, their brains were still full of fluid, and dark liquid gushed out upon impact.

Drawn by the gunfire, the reacting Mud Zombies lunged forward like predators catching the scent of prey.

A passenger train would have had at least one or two thousand passengers. Statistically, a hundred high-level zombies should have evolved from that number. However, those had likely wandered off long ago. These remaining ones were all ordinary zombies—no high-level types, no Special Infected. Their charge looked imposing, but it posed no real threat.

With years of experience fighting zombies and having participated in large-scale wars against the undead, the soldiers remained calm. They used precision firing, picking off the charging zombies one by one with headshots.

The entire skirmish lasted only about ten minutes. Over a hundred zombies lay dead across the tracks.

To ensure absolute safety, the soldiers approached cautiously, putting a final bullet into each zombie’s head to prevent any accidents.

This train had 33 cars; based on its markings, it was a long-distance express that had crossed three provinces. Half of it had derailed, and the other half remained on the tracks. Without confirming the cars were empty, the soldiers didn’t advance. Instead, some stood guard while others began clearing the bodies from the tracks.

To avoid hindering future train traffic, they couldn’t just toss the bodies to the side.

Choosing a spot that wouldn’t affect the railway, they dug a large pit. Without even pausing to harvest the crystals, they threw the bodies in and covered them with soil. They even used a wooden board, carving “Cemetery for the Victims of Train XXX” into it with a knife, allowing the deceased to finally find peace after six and a half years of restless wandering.

After waiting a while, the soldiers finally approached and searched the train. Finding no more zombies, they signaled the airship above.

The train was a total loss. If it were near Qingyuan City, they might have hauled it back for the thousands of tons of steel. But out here, it was useless. It had to be moved off the tracks. Perhaps years from now, someone would come back for the scrap.

A 33-car train was a massive beast. The dozen or so cars already in the field weren’t a concern, but the ones still on the tracks had to be cleared.

If they had to do this manually, it would be an impossible task. But the engineering airship changed everything. This ship had the same 125-ton lifting capacity as a military airship, allowing it to function as a heavy crane.

However, they couldn’t move a dozen cars at once. The engineers had to decouple each car one by one and secure them with steel cables.

For an airship, a massive cargo capacity translated into powerful lifting capability.

Once the cables were secured to the gondola, the engineering airship rose slowly, inch by inch, lifting the carriage off the tracks. It then moved over to the field, lowered the car, and set it down.

What looked like a simple task actually took half an hour per carriage.

They worked until late afternoon to clear the dozen or so carriages. The engineering airship carried spare rails, and replacing the damaged sections was not difficult once the old ones were removed.

When the engineering airship finally took flight to leave, that broken stretch of railway had been restored.

The abandoned cars jutting out of the field, the fresh grave mound nearby, and the stretch of brand-new rails were all evidence of the changes occurring here.

With ten engineering airships and a large number of personnel divided into ten teams, the efficiency of the repairs was impressive. They didn’t just fix washouts and landslides; they even found ways to reconnect displaced track switches in the stations along the line to Lenghu.

While these crews were busy, several locomotives at the Qingyuan City station were successfully restored through great effort. The air pumps hissed and the whistles let out long, low blasts.

However, this didn’t mean the railway was ready for use just yet.

The line passed through several county seats where zombies still resided. The Commercial Association needed to dispatch troops to clear them out.

For the Commercial Association, which now possessed long-range combat capabilities, this was an opportunity for live-fire training and a test of their logistics. The towns and county seats on the list didn’t have massive populations; the most populated one only had about 150,000 zombies.

The formal commissioning of the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier marked a new stage in the development of the Commercial Association’s air force. It would serve as the core of their long-range power. Its first mission: clearing the zombies from the county seats obstructing the railway.

As the smallest class of airship-based carrier in the Commercial Association’s plan, the Bird’s Nest was a light aircraft carrier. There wouldn’t be many of them; a preliminary batch of three was planned, forming four light carrier battle groups to be deployed in different directions—stationed at the Headquarters, the Tianzhou Branch, and the Lenghu Branch.

The newer airship carriers currently under construction, though yet unnamed or classified, would undoubtedly fall into the supercarrier category.

By the end of September, the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier left Qingyuan City and began combat operations along the railway line. Within a week, it was tasked with purging every threat along the route—existing or potential. This included zombies on the tracks and in the immediate vicinity. Any areas with main roads leading to the railway, where the sound of a train might attract a horde, were also within the purge zone.

The deployment of the Bird’s Nest meant that the day the trains would run again was not far off.

The ten returning engineering airships and their crews were greeted with a warm welcome by the Commercial Association. However, after only three days of rest, they set out once more. This time, their mission was even more arduous: they were to repair the line from Qingyuan City to the Lanxi Plateau.

The route to Lenghu was relatively short and passed through sparsely populated areas. The railway to the Lanxi Plateau was different. The harsh environment was one challenge, but the line also passed through several major cities and had to cross rivers and deserts.

The difficulties were several times greater than the Qingyuan-Lenghu line, and the dangers would increase exponentially.

Yet, this railway held immeasurable strategic value for the Commercial Association. Its significance was no less than the Lenghu line. If this railway could be opened, the Commercial Association’s “Great Integration” plan could be executed ahead of schedule.

After all, the nearly three million people on the Lanxi Plateau represented an irresistible temptation. More importantly, the Commercial Association’s influence on the plateau was growing by the day. In the minds of many, the Lanxi Plateau was already an inseparable part of the Commercial Association, and they would never let anyone else lay a hand on it.

The Commercial Association’s rapid development required a large population. In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, the people of the Lanxi Plateau were currently wasting their potential on subsistence farming. It was necessary to change their lifestyle and lead them to create much higher value.

Chapter 312: Armored Train

Grass taller than a man carpeted the entire ridge. The sparse trees, in contrast, seemed like mere garnishes for the wild overgrowth.

A dozen men, dressed in rags, moved through the brush. Parts of their clothing were patched with cloth woven from sisal fibers soaked and processed into hemp. A few wore nothing but a piece of hempen cloth wrapped around their waists, their bare upper bodies crisscrossed with bloody red scratches from the sharp blades of grass as they forged ahead.

Each man carried a long rifle on his back and a machete at his hip. The lead man hacked away at the overgrowth, treading over the thick, fallen stalks. The long trail they left behind stretched far into the distance, showing they had traveled from a very remote place.

The wild grass was difficult to cut, its surface incredibly slick; a single swing of the blade didn’t fell much.

Perhaps exhausted, the brawny man leading the group stopped. “Mad Bull, your turn to clear the path.”

The man called Mad Bull was as tall and strong as an ox, a simple, honest smile on his face. Without a word, he pulled the heavy machete from his waist. With a loud whoosh, he swung it at the grass ahead. Broken stalks flew everywhere as a large patch was instantly cleared. Moving like a bulldozer, his efficiency was vastly superior to the man who had been leading before.

“I thought you were an honest fellow, Mad Bull. Dammit, turns out you’ve been corrupted by the others too.”

The leader grumbled as he rubbed the blisters on his palms. He glared resentfully at the snickering men behind him and said, “No, from now on, everyone takes turns. One person can’t do all this work alone. Dammit, how did I forget that Mad Bull is literally as strong as an ox? If I’d known, I would have let him handle the whole thing.”

The men below him didn’t dare speak, all following along in silence.

Soon, after cresting two more ridges and standing atop a cliff, they could see a railway line cutting through the mountains.

“Ming-zai, are you sure you heard the sound of a train?” The brawny leader looked down at the weed-choked railway, his brow furrowing. “If I find out you tricked us into coming all this way for nothing, I’ll skin you alive.”

The one called Ming-zai was a young man in his mid-twenties named Cao Chongming. Hearing the words of their leader, Li Tai—the man who had been leading the way—he shrank back and said, “Boss, how would I ever dare have a laugh at your expense? I definitely heard the sound of a train.”

Mad Bull, possessing a blunt and honest nature, blinked and sheathed his machete. “I just don’t get it. How could there still be trains in this world?”

Li Tai gave him a fierce glare. “What do you know, Mad Bull? There are plenty of people living like us in this world. For all we know, the zombies might have been wiped out by humanity long ago.” However, thinking of the zombie-infested town near their remote settlement, his words sounded a bit hollow.

Fortunately, Mad Bull wasn’t the type to overanalyze things, so he didn’t argue and just gave a foolish grin.

The group of over a dozen men hacked another path down the ridge until they reached the edge of the tracks. Li Tai, a rough man by nature, began acting like Sherlock Holmes, putting on an act of investigating. “After all these years, these tracks should be covered in rust. But look here—there’s a clear mark on the rail that was pressed down recently. That’s proof a train has passed through. And look at these weeds. They look ordinary, but consider their height. When a train passes, it’s bound to crush them… Look, there are broken ones here!”

Without a doubt, this obvious evidence earned Li Tai a round of flattery from his team, which put him in a rather wonderful mood.

Mad Bull scratched his head and said, “Boss, I’ve heard legends about ghost trains and such. Do you think this train… is controlled by ghosts? Like those skeleton pirate ships that come and go like shadows?”

Cao Chongming and the others shuddered. Even in broad daylight, they felt a chill run down their spines. That hair-raising sensation made several of them wonder if Mad Bull might be right.

Li Tai delivered a series of raps to the back of Mad Bull’s head, making him scurry away with his hands over his skull. “You idiot, stop scaring people! If it really were controlled by ghosts, why haven’t we heard it once in the six years we’ve lived here?” He looked up at the straight railway tracks that seemed to stretch toward the edge of the sky. The group looked so small standing upon them.

The group’s morale seemed to dip. Most of them didn’t know when, or if, the train would appear.

Li Tai and his people lived in this endless mountain range. There were only about a hundred of them, hiding in the forest to escape the zombies. They worked the land, and their entire lives revolved around securing three simple meals a day. In this small mountain village of a hundred people, there was no entertainment to speak of. The few women there were treated like princesses by all the men.

Over the last few years, the population of the village had dwindled—not because of death, but because people could no longer endure the isolation and left to search for other humans. None had ever been heard from again. In Li Tai’s view, they had likely become part of the zombie horde. How could they possibly send word back?

The train sounds heard by Cao Chongming had haunted Li Tai for days before he finally decided to bring his brothers to investigate. He was tired of life in the village. It felt like being livestock in a pen; staying any longer would surely drive him mad.

The group walked along the tracks for a while, occasionally finding patches of oil dripped among the weeds.

They had no specific destination and simply followed the tracks. When they grew tired, they sat down to rest and eat the coarse flatbread they had brought.

Li Tai didn’t know what he was looking for. He just wanted to walk. If they found nothing, they would have to head back to the village in the mountains by afternoon. The village was their root. In this post-apocalyptic world, they were homeless, and these mountains were their home.

Sitting on the rail, Li Tai had just finished half a piece of flatbread when he felt an imperceptible vibration through the steel.

“Something’s coming…”

Li Tai jumped up, stuffed the remaining flatbread into his pocket, and pressed his ear to the rail. He listened intently for a long moment before his face lit up with excitement. “Something is moving on the tracks. It’s a train, it has to be. Only a train would be on these tracks.”

The others cheered, rubbing their hands together and peering down both ends of the railway.

Li Tai calmed himself. “What Mad Bull said wasn’t entirely nonsense. Everyone, hide for a moment. Once we confirm it’s a human train, we can come out.”

Cao Chongming said worriedly, “But Boss, what if the train just zooms past? We won’t know how long we’ll have to wait for the next one.”

Li Tai realized he was right. After thinking for a moment, he used his machete to cut down a small tree nearby and trimmed it into a pole. He jammed it into the ground by the tracks, took off his shirt, and hung it on the branches. “If it’s humans, they’ll see this. If it’s ghosts, they’ll just drive right through. Do the same, everyone, and be quick about it.”

A dozen men took off their shirts and propped them up with branches, lining them up along the side of the railway.

The distinctive sound of a train grew louder. Li Tai gave a signal, and everyone retreated from the tracks, hiding in the thick bushes nearby.

In the far distance, a train with only six carriages was approaching at a moderate speed of 80 kilometers per hour. However, it was not a traditional train. Its six carriages were entirely encased in steel. What protruded from them were numerous cannon barrels and a multitude of machine gun ports.

From a distance, it looked like six round, mobile metal mounds.

In reality, it was an armored train, possessing fierce firepower, long-range endurance, and immense defensive capabilities.

Armored trains were largely a product of the World Wars, once considered some of the most difficult armored weapons to deal with. Especially when equipped with high-caliber artillery, an armored train could provide devastating fire suppression. The interconnected nature of the railway network also provided the armored train with a flexible means of movement, allowing it to appear in many locations to provide mobile fire support.

Anyone who had seen World War movies would know just how powerful armored trains were at the time.

Ever since the railway was repaired and the first transport trains were put into service, the safety of the tracks had become an urgent priority. This was because some zombies still existed after the initial clearing, or new ones would wander toward the tracks over time. These were issues that had to be addressed.

To protect the railway, it was unrealistic to use military airships or fighter jets.

Transport trains moved at speeds of 100 to 120 kilometers per hour. The military airships were too clumsy and lacked anti-air capabilities, while the speed of fighter jets made them unsuitable for providing consistent security along the tracks.

Initially, machine gun turrets were welded onto the transport trains and manned by soldiers, but this didn’t satisfy the requirement for a mobile railway fire support point. Thus, the concept of a World War-era armored train was proposed. The task of building it fell to the Armored Vehicle Factory.

To get it into service quickly, the Armored Vehicle Factory didn’t build a new train from scratch. Instead, they found a damaged locomotive in a train station and performed a major overhaul. For the carriages, they used flatbeds and employed the simplest method: driving Sand Viper tanks onto them to serve as mobile turrets.

The first armored train was born this way—a locomotive followed by flatbeds acting as weapon platforms.

Tests showed that even this crude armored train possessed massive combat capability. The strafing of the Sand Viper’s machine guns and the fire suppression from its main cannons were excellent, meeting the basic requirements for an armored train.

Ultimately, that first armored train was attached to the rear of a transport train, creating a simple armed transport convoy.

However, the Armored Vehicle Factory was highly capable. In just half a month of full-scale effort, the first true armored train began rolling onto the tracks.

It consisted of six units, entirely encased in thick, rounded steel. Testing proved that even the main cannon of a Sand Viper tank could not penetrate its armor. Furthermore, the cannons mounted on these six cars were far more flexible than those on a tank. The increased space allowed for more machine gun ports, making the firepower even more ferocious.

More importantly, the thick armor ensured the safety of the soldiers inside. Unless the iron doors were opened, zombies had no way of attacking the personnel.

After brief testing, this armored train was officially put into independent service. Equipped with communication arrays and radar, it was a standalone railway combat unit. It was responsible for clearing any obstacles on the tracks, dealing with zombies, maintaining railway security, and defending various transit stations.

And as its first commander, Fu Chengying, a woman, had been entrusted with the weight of supreme command.

Fu Chengying was the only surviving train conductor in the Commercial Association. Over forty years old, she had extensive experience in train command. Furthermore, her time in the apocalypse had taught her various military skills. The combination of the two allowed her to stand out among many elites and seize the position of supreme commander of the first armored train.

According to general experience in this wasteland, zombies rarely ventured into these deep mountains, so the railway here was relatively safe.

However, Fu Chengying did not dare be careless. On this first operational run, the armored train needed to reach Lenghu successfully and then return to Qingyuan City. Theoretically, nothing should go wrong, but the wasteland was unpredictable. She had to be cautious.

Just as she expected, the first car of the armored train made a discovery. On the tracks ahead was a row of various ragged clothes. This report quickly reached Fu Chengying. She decisively ordered the train to stop and commanded all combat units to enter a state of combat readiness.

The armored train hadn’t been moving very fast, and with so few carriages, the emergency brakes brought it to a halt in moments.

Peering through the armored train’s observation system, they saw no movement in the area. However, a keen observer noticed that the branches the clothes were hanging on had been freshly cut.

In fact, from the moment the armored train appeared, Li Tai and his men were stunned.

Every one of them had seen a train before, but they had never seen anything like this. After all, the history of armored trains was distant, and there were very few television shows or movies featuring them. Many people had truly never seen such a machine.

“Boss, what on earth is that?”

Regarding Mad Bull’s question, Li Tai thought for a moment and said with certainty, “That should be an armored train. But dammit, these things only appeared in the World Wars. They were replaced later because of various flaws. How is there an armored train here?”

Cao Chongming was more concerned with whether the train was being controlled by ghosts.

But the answer appeared soon enough. An iron door opened on one of the armored cars, and a small squad of soldiers jumped down. Maintaining a defensive perimeter, they walked toward the hanging clothes.

“Boss, they’re people! They’re people!”

Mad Bull’s shout was impossible to hide. Amid the barked commands of the soldiers, a bare-chested Li Tai and his group awkwardly emerged from their hiding spots, shouting, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! We’re on your side! We’re friends!”

Following this, Li Tai and the others were brought before Fu Chengying. After questioning them about their situation and confirming the location of their settlement, Fu Chengying followed protocol. She contacted the Railway Department to report the small settlement, which the Railway Department then forwarded to the Commercial Association.

Compared to the unified military uniforms of the armored train crew, Li Tai and his men looked like beggars. They couldn’t understand how these people had managed this. What was the outside world like? Did they not have to face the zombies?

Fu Chengying did not take the dozen or so men with her. After all, this was a military armored train with limited space, and her destination was Lenghu. However, she assured them that if they returned to their village, a transport airship from the Commercial Association would arrive within two days to rescue them and take them back to Qingyuan City.

This was actually the second similar incident Fu Chengying had encountered. Small settlements like these in the mountains, consisting of a few dozen or a hundred people, were easily missed by exploration airships. The noise of the train, however, would naturally be discovered by them, bringing them into the view of the Commercial Association.

No one knew how many people like this still existed on this land, but it was certain there were quite a few.

To the Commercial Association, every person was a precious resource that should not be abandoned. Consequently, in response to some explorers being overly focused on quick results, the Association issued a new regulation: explorers must pay attention to all settlements, regardless of size. Any instance of knowingly abandoning survivors would result, at minimum, in the revocation of explorer status and the stripping of all medals. In severe cases, it could result in the death penalty.

With the railway fully operational, the fuel brought in by the three transport trains meant the Commercial Association no longer had to halt its military expansion due to oil shortages.

As a result, the two aircraft factories and the armored vehicle factory, which had slowed down, resumed full-scale production. Research into new weapons was added to the schedule one after another. Strictly speaking, the Commercial Association’s research was moving from imitation to innovation, departing from the known weapons of the old world to forge a path for weapon applications suited to the post-apocalyptic environment.

With an ample supply of oil, the Commercial Association had become ambitious.

Chapter 313: 225% Experience

“I’ll be damned…”

Zhou Yuanqiang spat out the curse, his voice heavy with frustration.

The rapid development of the Commercial Association was a gratifying thing. Ever since the petroleum problem had been solved, Zhou Yuanqiang no longer had to constantly transport large quantities of fuel to ensure the association’s daily operations. Now liberated, the only things he truly needed from the modern world were a few high-end electronic instruments and components.

For his massive storage space, these small items weren’t a burden at all, making things very easy for him.

The spatial ring was still level 14, but its experience had reached 75%.

Perhaps it had been too easy, but when the massive zombie wave had attacked, the Ring Task Zhou Yuanqiang received was to defend Hanhua City. The reward was 75% experience, while failure meant losing 75% experience. It was the same system of rewards and penalties, consistent with the usual style of the Ring Tasks.

If there was anything different, it was the amount of experience, which left Zhou Yuanqiang quite dissatisfied… To hell with it, the last time he merged Tianzhou City, the reward was a full level of experience. How could a zombie attack on a scale of over a hundred million only grant a measly 75%? By his calculations, it should have raised him by at least two or three levels.

It seemed that the ring’s rewards were tied to the difficulty of the task.

This was the conclusion Zhou Yuanqiang had come to after some thought. The quality of a task wasn’t decided by the scale of the zombies, but by the level of danger involved.

Just now, because his skin was itching for action and he was bored out of his mind, he noticed the ring was only 25% away from leveling up. He naturally thought of picking up a small task to reach level 15 and see what kind of skill he would get. Based on his understanding of the ring—and the fact that the Commercial Association was currently free of wars and trouble—his deduction was that any task given should be a minor one.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang was struck dumb. The task the ring provided looked like a small one on the surface, but it was anything but.

Task: Find survivors who might exist along the coast. Reward: 225% experience. Failure: Deduct 450% experience.

That was right. The reward was so generous it was easily the highest Zhou Yuanqiang had ever seen since he started taking tasks. But the problem lay exactly in that 225% experience reward, which was why he had cursed. Never forget that the more generous the reward, the higher the difficulty. A reward of 225% would take him all the way to level 17. It was an absolute temptation.

The penalty for failure was equally terrifying—double the reward experience.

In other words, if Zhou Yuanqiang failed the mission, his spatial ring level would regress to level 10, losing four full levels. Given the experience required to level up the ring, the weight of this penalty was staggering. How could he not feel conflicted? He was essentially backed into a corner.

Then he looked at one of the mission requirements, and Zhou Yuanqiang wanted to curse again: As a successor of the spatial ring, you are destined for solitude; you must learn to face hardships alone.

Seeing this sentence, Zhou Yuanqiang wanted to cover his face and run away in tears: Damn it, why did I have to be so restless? Why did I take a damn task? Now I’m in a bind.

The coast had always been a true forbidden zone for humanity. It was a paradise for zombies and the heart of their territory. Dense swarms, countless mutated species, and zombies so bizarre they defied imagination—every single one was a lethal threat to humans. In such a zombie paradise, could there really be survivors?

“Birds die for food, and men die for wealth…” Zhou Yuanqiang spat forcefully and said, “I could jump three levels at once. The temptation is undeniably massive, and there’s no way to turn back now. Fine! With my current abilities and my Armor Art, the spatial ring wouldn’t just send me to my death, right?”

Honestly, if one wanted to truly understand zombies, they had to go deep into the areas where they thrived. The coast was the best choice.

From another perspective, the coastal regions held over eighty percent of the entire country’s former wealth. For the currently cash-strapped Zhou Yuanqiang, the lure was equally strong. Perhaps a single trip could gather enough to ease his financial pressure. The massive development of the Somali Steel Park made it a gold-swallowing beast; with monthly expenses rising to $3 million and no current income, it was indeed difficult to sustain.

Although the steel plant was completed and various factories were being finalized, forming the beginnings of an arms manufacturing chain, there was still a ways to go before they could actually sell weapons. During this period, Zhou Yuanqiang had to continue burning money, and it wasn’t a small amount.

Fortunately, the Commercial Association was no longer a burden and could even output a large number of machines. Otherwise, the construction of the Somali Steel Park would have cost an astronomical sum. Zhou Yuanqiang dared not be careless about his future security in the modern world; he was deeply invested in everything from military training to the formation of armed forces and the establishment of factories.

Regarding the tribal and religious issues in Somalia, Zhou Yuanqiang could only throw massive amounts of US dollars at the problem to clear the way, settling conflicts between tribes and promising to provide more jobs. This investment, at least for now, was showing results. Every tribe supported him. Compared to others who used force, they, having suffered through poverty, welcomed Zhou Yuanqiang’s economic approach to solving Somalia’s problems.

As for the survivors that might exist along the coast, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t hold much hope. It had been six and a half years since the apocalypse began, and that area was the epicenter of zombie activity. Even if many zombies had pushed inland, those remaining on the coast were still numerous enough to make one’s skin crawl.

Xu Yuhai’s Intelligence Department was no slouch either. X-2 reconnaissance airships had long ago scouted the coastal areas and had a preliminary grasp of the zombie numbers. However, they had never discovered any survivors, which was what frustrated Zhou Yuanqiang.

The normal operations of the Commercial Association didn’t require Zhou Yuanqiang’s direct intervention; he had subordinates for that. Major matters had already been settled. Unless there was an emergency, Zhou Yuanqiang really wasn’t needed. This was why he had been so bored that he took the task. Thus, after receiving this high-reward mission and giving a few instructions, he set off alone from Qingyuan City in a military airship.

Thanks to the presence of AI, the military airship had been modified to be capable of unmanned flight under certain task conditions. Therefore, operating it alone wasn’t difficult; once he set the coordinates, the military airship would navigate automatically.

The journey was undoubtedly tedious. Using a military airship to get from Qingyuan City to the nearest coastal city would take at least two days.

After setting the autopilot, Zhou Yuanqiang lay quietly in the military airship’s rest cabin. They were currently flying at an altitude of 6,000 meters—a very safe height that even Bird Zombies couldn’t reach. In truth, Zhou Yuanqiang viewed this mission more as a trip—a journey through this apocalyptic world to understand this unknown realm.

Sometimes, Zhou Yuanqiang wanted to experiment: if he teleported from the airship and then returned, would he still be on the airship, or would he appear in the sky where he had originally teleported?

If it was the former, it would mean greater mobility. If it was the latter, appearing directly at 6,000 meters in the air… one could only imagine. A free fall from that height, no matter how tough his body was, would leave him with only death as an option. Even if he survived, he would surely leave a massive crater in the ground.

Taking advantage of this rare peace, Zhou Yuanqiang also pondered the path he was currently walking. Was it right or wrong?

He remembered when he first arrived in the apocalypse. His goal had been to use modern goods to exchange for wealth he couldn’t earn in several lifetimes. But the cruelty of the wasteland—the disasters, the infighting among his fellow man, the threat of the zombies, and the people dying of starvation—had all touched his soul.

As a modern man, it was impossible to turn a blind eye to these things and act cold and heartless.

So, gradually, things began to drift slightly from his original plan. While making money, he also tried his best to save people. As said before, the apocalypse was a cruel world. Without enough strength, you were just a target for bullying. Wanting to make money in peace wasn’t simple; you needed the power to protect your goods and wealth.

Then came the schemes of the Wasteland Settlement Management Bureau. Not wanting to die, his only choice had been to resist.

At least with the modern world as a safe rear base, Zhou Yuanqiang had succeeded. He overthrew the authorities, replaced them, and became the new ruler. As for the subsequent development, he could only comfort himself by saying it was just an initial investment that would eventually earn him many times more wealth.

In the past two years, the Commercial Association had not disappointed him. Its development changed with each passing day. Not only did people have enough to eat, but they also had jobs and a Commercial Association worth protecting. Standing where he was today, even Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know if he had made a mistake or not. But seeing those pairs of eyes filled with hope, perhaps this path was the right one.

Without his appearance, the wilderness settlement might have been destroyed by the zombie tides long ago. How could there be such a powerful Commercial Association now?

The changes he had brought to this apocalyptic world were truly significant. The strength of the Commercial Association was increasing by the day. Its two aircraft factories produced two fighter jets every day, which immediately entered active service. Its two airship factories were working at full capacity to build a supercarrier. It was foreseeable that once the supercarrier was completed, the overall strength of the Commercial Association would more than double.

The Armored Vehicle Factory produced tanks at a rate of one per day—not exactly fast, but not slow either. The newly formed armored units gave the Commercial Association an elite force capable of charging the front lines against the zombies. And with the breakthrough progress in strategic weapons, the moment their research was completed would be the moment the Commercial Association truly launched its counterattack against the zombies.

Chapter 314: The Emergence of the Military Spirit

Zhou Yuanqiang’s first stop on this journey was, naturally, the familiar City S area.

Qingyuan City and City S were positioned exactly to the southeast of each other. He only needed to keep heading southeast; once he reached the ocean, he would arrive at City S. He wanted to see what the apocalypse looked like in City S. After all, it was a global metropolis with a population not much smaller than Shanghai.

In the beginning, as he headed southeast, there were indeed very few zombies.

Following the previous massive attack by a hundred million zombies, the area was empty of life, with only a few stray zombies remaining—not enough to threaten normal human activity. The only thing Zhou Yuanqiang found regrettable was how small the human population had become. They could only occupy a tiny portion of the world. Even if they wiped out all the zombies, how many years of reproduction would it take for the survivors to return to their peak population?

As the day progressed, the terrain beneath the military airship shifted between mountain wilderness, plains, and hills. While the geography changed, they all shared one common feature: the presence of zombies. The further southeast he traveled, the higher the zombie density became; from time to time, he could spot massive hordes.

The provinces surrounding Qingyuan City had significant populations. However, due to the national trend of migrant work, the labor value to be found staying at home was low, so most people headed to the developed coastal cities for work. This caused the population of these inland provinces to drop by a third—for the Commercial Association, this was actually good news.

In the five years since the apocalypse began, the number of zombies killed by humans had been limited. It was a one-sided slaughter for most of it, with humans being the ones constantly hunted down.

The advantage of a military airship was its endurance. Even with only one engine running, it could maintain a speed of several dozen kilometers per hour. The mission had a generous timeframe of two months, so Zhou Yuanqiang had plenty of time and was in no rush.

With only one engine active and flying into a slight headwind, his speed was less than thirty kilometers per hour.

Since he was treating this as a tour of the country’s landscape, he didn’t mind the snail-like pace. The stability of the military airship was excellent, far superior to that of the transport airships. Even against the headwind, it only swayed slightly. After setting out a table of snacks, Zhou Yuanqiang leaned back comfortably on a long bench, his eyes fixed on the view outside the window.

By now, the airship’s altitude had dropped to 2,500 meters. Looking out from the window, he could truly appreciate the beauty of the distant scenery.

Drinking fruit juice and eating snacks, he relaxed completely, thinking happily to himself, If I want to hit on girls later, I should use a big airship like this. Just two people in the sky—that would be romantic enough to kill for, enough to charm any woman. Thinking about engaging in some primal combat at this altitude, Zhou Yuanqiang felt it would definitely be a thrilling experience.

At first, it was very pleasant. However, as the day’s journey passed, he began to lose interest. As night fell, he adjusted the military airship’s altitude to 6,000 meters and returned to the lounge to sleep. If nothing unexpected happened, he would enter the coastal provinces by tomorrow morning.

The night was very peaceful, and Zhou Yuanqiang woke up at dawn.

After a quick wash, he walked into the cockpit and used the remote observation system to confirm his current position.

Since he was out of the Commercial Association’s communication range, he was truly on his own and couldn’t rely on their resources. Without the support of the Commercial Association’s electronic maps, he had to rely on his own judgment to determine his location.

The military airship’s autopilot had an automatic direction correction feature, so he wasn’t at risk of getting lost.

Below him was a vast expanse of mountain ridges. Roads crisscrossed like spiderwebs, and in just a few minutes, he spotted two intersecting expressways. Numerous villages occupied small patches of flat land. The size of the towns was impressive, even larger than some county seats. The industrial scale was highly developed, with factories stretching out as far as the eye could see.

Based on this alone, Zhou Yuanqiang was certain he had entered the coastal region.

Having missed the previous night, he lacked information on things like zombie numbers and their movement patterns. From the current situation, the number of zombies was still considerable; they wandered about in groups like spirits of the dead.

“This should be the area north of G City. It looks like I’ll reach City S by this afternoon.”

Thanks to the excellence of the remote observation system and the massive billboards on the highways below, Zhou Yuanqiang confirmed he had reached G City. It made sense; the complex road network, the numerous expressways, the countless villages, and the massive towns were all characteristic features of the coastal region.

He observed for a while, but saw nothing except zombies; there was no possibility of survivors.

The Commercial Association’s industry was considered relatively complete, but compared to this place, there was no contest. The clusters of factories were the hallmark of the coastal region. A large number of factories required a large number of employees, and countless migrant workers had poured in, creating the massive migrant population of the coastal areas. If the apocalypse hadn’t happened, as history progressed, more and more migrant workers would have settled in these coastal cities, and after a few decades, they would have been completely assimilated.

Perhaps a hundred years later, the population of the coastal regions would have concentrated a vast majority of the national total, while provinces like Qinghai, Tibet, and Xinjiang would have become truly uninhabited.

The state’s Great Western Development strategy was likely intended to address this very issue. Excessive population concentration made the country lose its strategic depth. Only by driving development in the west and retaining more people could the inland areas be developed, achieving a balance with the coastal regions.

However… what meaning did any of that have now? In the apocalypse, there were so few people left that they could live wherever they wanted. Once the cities were reclaimed, they could pick the best places.

Thinking of the rows of villas where the so-called “high society” people lived in City S, Zhou Yuanqiang wanted to laugh. Once City S was reclaimed, he would keep one animal in each villa and turn it into a zoo. That’s what you call luxury—even my animals get their own villas! That’s true opulence!

To better observe the situation below, the airship maintained an altitude of 2,500 meters—a relatively safe height.

But a moment later, a small red dot appeared on the airship’s radar. The alarm system also began to blare. This caught him off guard, and he muttered, “Why is there an aircraft here?” In a scramble, he began monitoring the incoming flying object to see what it was.

The Commercial Association had a dedicated identification system for fighter jets and military airships, allowing them to confirm identities via radar.

Before the scan results were even in, the flying object appeared in his line of sight—it was actually a J-10 fighter jet. This discovery left Zhou Yuanqiang dumbfounded. He racked his brain but couldn’t understand where a J-10 would come from.

Has some other power taken over an airbase and acquired a large number of fighter jets?

At this potential explanation, he grew uneasy. The Commercial Association had over a thousand fighter jets, and the number was growing, but their performance wasn’t outstanding—at most, they were at the level of the Li-8. If someone had obtained a large fleet of J-10s or J-11s, his side would definitely be at a disadvantage in a real fight.

The J-10 seemed to be heading straight for the military airship. With a roar, it zipped past the airship, pulled a sharp U-turn, and came back.

In the brief moment the J-10 flashed past, Zhou Yuanqiang looked toward its cockpit. He saw a pilot wearing a flight helmet. The man’s clothes were tattered, and he was staring at the airship, shaking his head repeatedly as if trying to signal something. In that flash, Zhou Yuanqiang also noticed that the paint on the J-10 was peeling, and the belly of the plane was heavily rusted.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s brow furrowed. He seemed to be deep in thought when suddenly it clicked. His face turned pale, and he cursed loudly, “God damn it! How can my luck be this bad?”

He didn’t wait for the J-10 to return; he frantically steered the military airship into a rapid descent. Everyone has the instinct to run, but did he really expect a snail-like military airship to outrun a J-10? Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t that delusional. He had only one option: land. In the air, the military airship was nothing more than a sitting duck.

“Faster, goddammit, faster!”

He roared. He suddenly realized he was incredibly close to death. If the J-10 opened up with a missile immediately, he’d be finished. Fortunately, that hadn’t happened yet, giving him a slim chance at survival.

The military airship was equipped with a missile launch system. With both engines at full throttle and the altitude dropping fast, Zhou Yuanqiang scrambled to the firing console. In the chaos, he began locking onto the J-10 as it turned back from the distance. He grinned savagely. “Let’s see how you like the taste of a missile first.”

Thanks to its massive carrying capacity, the military airship had sixteen missile racks. These retractable racks could continuously pull missiles from the airship’s internal magazine.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t an automated reloading system. Being alone, Zhou Yuanqiang had to rely on the sixteen missiles already loaded for this aerial battle. He hit the launch buttons for all sixteen in rapid succession. The exposed missiles detached from their racks one by one and rocketed toward the J-10.

The distance between the two parties was only a few kilometers—for a missile, it was a distance covered in the blink of an eye.

But what happened next left him staring in shock.

The sixteen missiles were aggressive, but the J-10 moved like a dancing spirit. With expert evasive maneuvers and incredible reaction speed, the jet danced through the missiles, lightly dodging the entire wave of attacks.

Then, Zhou Yuanqiang’s shock turned into a frozen daze… After dodging the sixteen missiles, two missiles detached from the J-10’s wingtips. After 0.1 seconds of ignition time, two tongues of fire erupted as they homed in on the massive military airship.

“I… son of a bitch!”

If he were in an hy-2 fighter jet, Zhou Yuanqiang was confident he could use his superhuman reflexes to dodge. But this massive military airship, moving at a snail’s pace—expecting it to dodge a missile was impossible. With his sharp eyes, the moment he saw the incoming missiles, he knew his luck had run out.

With two massive booms, the entire military airship felt like it was being hit by a tsunami, rocking violently in the massive shockwaves.

The roaring J-10 pulled into a steep climb, the turbulence further destabilizing the falling airship as the jet soared into the sky.

The two missiles successfully struck the enormous gas bags. The violent explosions destroyed half of the buoyancy cells. The heavy military airship immediately plummeted toward the ground like a bird struck by an arrow. To make matters worse, the gas bags were on fire, the flames spreading to the untouched cells.

Inside the gondola, Zhou Yuanqiang was tossed around violently. No matter how strong he was, he was bounced like a plaything, thrown up and down as if on a terminal roller coaster.

The only saving grace was that the missiles hadn’t struck the gondola directly; if they had, he would have had to use his teleportation ability as a desperate last resort to stay alive. Even so, the hit to the gas bags was a devastating blow. If the airship hadn’t been divided into over a dozen gas bags, it would have disintegrated instantly.

This was undoubtedly his most pathetic moment; Zhou Yuanqiang had never imagined he would end up like this.

The J-10 didn’t seem inclined to let its prey go. After soaring into the sky, it pulled a high-altitude turn and dove toward the burning military airship. More missiles detached from the wings and hurtled down with murderous intent.

Having just regained his senses, Zhou Yuanqiang felt the thick killing intent and cursed, “Does this bastard want to wipe me out completely?”

His answer came in the form of two more massive explosions. Having lost most of its gas bags, the airship succumbed to the weight of the heavy gondola and could no longer maintain its slow descent; it began to freefall. From a military perspective, Zhou Yuanqiang finally understood the difference between an airship and a fighter jet: it all came down to size and agility.

Fortunately, when he had first sensed something was wrong, he had initiated an emergency landing. By the time the second set of missiles hit, the airship was only two or three hundred meters above the ground.

The falling airship’s gondola smashed violently onto the ground. Cracks tore through the structure as the momentum dragged it forward, carving a long, deep trench through the earth. With thick smoke billowing out, it looked exactly like a downed fighter jet. The only difference was that thanks to the few remaining gas bags, it hadn’t completely shattered upon impact.

As soon as the airship stopped, Zhou Yuanqiang, ignoring the objects that had pelted him and given him a concussion, kicked a hole through the cracked hull. Without a moment’s hesitation, he charged out and scrambled away from the military airship at a desperate pace.

His powerful 42-times-strength ability meant that he had only suffered some scrapes during the crash rather than fatal broken bones. Had he been an ordinary man, the vibration from the impact alone would have been enough to kill him.

There was a reason Zhou Yuanqiang was running for his life: the airship’s weapon bay was filled with aerial bombs and missiles. The crash had turned the weapon bay into a chaotic mess, like a town hit by a typhoon. Add to that the fire from the gas bags burning down toward the gondola…

Just as he expected, after he had fled several hundred meters, the entire military airship turned into a massive powder keg and exploded violently. The massive number of aerial bombs detonated simultaneously, their high-yield blast sweeping away everything within hundreds of meters. The explosion blew the airship into tiny fragments.

The moment the explosion ignited, Zhou Yuanqiang threw himself into a field. The shockwave swept over his back, snapping the weeds in its path and sending debris flying everywhere.

The J-10 still didn’t seem finished with him. Spotting him fleeing from the sky, it dived down again.

“Dammit!” He scrambled up and began to sprint again. The spot where he had just been lying was immediately baptized by another missile, leaving a massive crater in the blast.

Luckily, there was a large stretch of mountain forest nearby. Zhou Yuanqiang used every ounce of strength he had, running with lightning speed. He quickly dove into the woods, completely vanishing from the J-10’s line of sight.

Reluctant to give up, the J-10 circled over the forest for a few minutes before finally banking away and disappearing into the sky.

Zhou Yuanqiang, hiding in the woods, didn’t sit down on a rock until the jet was long gone. Everything that had just happened took place in a matter of moments. If not for his superhuman abilities, no ordinary person could have escaped the J-10’s attack.

Now, he finally understood why everyone’s faces turned pale when they talked about military spirits, as if they were talking about ghosts.

It was true: the pilot flying that J-10 was one of the most special types of zombies—a military spirit. Military spirits retained the skills they had in their past lives, and due to the viral infection, these skills were enhanced many times over, making them incredibly formidable.

The greatest trait of the military spirit was their ability to use the weapons they were familiar with in life. They even stayed together in military barracks, just as they had when they were alive.

They were born from the powerful will of soldiers, and their numbers were quite significant. Typically, out of a hundred thousand troops, at least ten to twenty thousand would turn into military spirits. These spirits would be categorized by the branches they served in. Their inherent discipline meant they rarely left their home barracks—they were the type of zombie that truly embodied the principle of “live and let live” unless provoked.

What Zhou Yuanqiang had just encountered was an Air Force military spirit. They could pilot fighter jets and strike any target, in the air or on the ground. They were also the only type of military spirit that would occasionally take to the skies for patrols.

Chapter 315: The Journey

A disheveled Zhou Yuanqiang stared at the wreckage of the military airship in the distance, which had been blown into several pieces. Some of the wooden sections were still burning from the explosion, sending plumes of thick black smoke billowing into the sky.

“How am I this unlucky? To actually run into military spirits, and Air Force ones at that.”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s heart was in knots. Having nearly been killed, he couldn’t understand why his luck was so abysmal.

Logically, military spirits generally didn’t leave the bases they occupied in life. While Air Force military spirits occasionally appeared in the sky, it was extremely rare. Only a handful of people in the Commercial Association had actually witnessed military spirits before, and those who did always remembered the sight with genuine, deep-seated terror.

Zhou Yuanqiang thought it over. Aside from the G City Military Region, there shouldn’t be any other Air Force presence nearby. Based on the scale of the G City Military Region—consisting of eight Air Force divisions and one anti-aircraft artillery division, with hundreds of fighter jets—the sheer willpower of the Chinese military, which ranked in the world’s top three, would be immense. By that calculation, the number of military spirits evolved from those eight Air Force divisions would be staggering.

And what about the even larger ground forces within that military region?

“I’d rather sneak into a modern foreign military base than dare to break into a national military base in the apocalypse.” He thought of how the military spirits, being zombies, felt no pain or fear. Once they discovered an intruder, they launched an all-consuming offensive. They were the type of enemies who, if you shot them once, would take the hit just to shoot you back.

If one were to truly compare strengths, even if the Commercial Association had double the number of fighter jets as the G City Military Region, they would likely be utterly smashed in an engagement. The military spirits possessed abilities several times stronger than they had in life. The Commercial Association had only been developing for two years, and its Air Force was barely a year old. Their pilots’ combat skills were still at a rookie level. While they could handle ground-based zombies without issue, a single pilot could likely never take down one fighter jet piloted by a military spirit, even with a three-to-one advantage.

Zhou Yuanqiang felt it was a pity. The vast amount of equipment in the military region was mostly superior to what the Commercial Association had, but the presence of military spirits meant it couldn’t be claimed for their own use.

To obtain standardized equipment and various heavy weapons, one would have to seize them from the hands of military spirits. But now, it seemed the time to wage war against them had not yet come. Until strategic weapons were successfully developed, Zhou Yuanqiang decided to abandon that thought. The weapons and equipment in the military base were tempting, but one needed the strength to actually take them.

“Damn it…”

Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly let out a frustrated shout. The military airship being shot down meant his primary means of transportation was destroyed. Realizing he was currently in the heart of the zombie-infested coastal region of the apocalypse, Zhou Yuanqiang felt like crying. Without the military airship, was he supposed to trek across the ground all the way to City S?

Perhaps drawn by the explosion of the airship and the thick smoke—and because the crash site was in a once-prosperous area—large numbers of zombies began to move toward the sound.

Zhou Yuanqiang spent only a moment in thought before a massive horde of zombies began to close in. Their target wasn’t him, but the airship wreckage. Coming from all directions, they quickly formed a sizable swarm, wandering and searching around the explosion site.

Ignoring these zombies, Zhou Yuanqiang left the wooded hills and walked onto the highway. He pulled an off-road motorcycle from his storage space, started the engine, and sped off toward City S.

“If I had known, I would have brought an attack helicopter. Then I wouldn’t be in this mess.” As he rode the motorcycle, the roar of the engine was quite loud, carrying far across the open highway. Some zombies stirred at the sound, but by the time they identified its source, Zhou Yuanqiang had already left them far behind.

Discarded vehicles of all kinds were scattered everywhere on this level-two highway.

Given G City’s former prosperity, every highway had once been a ribbon of flowing traffic, especially large tractor-trailers hauling cargo containers across the country. After the world spiraled out of control during the apocalypse, these “highway killers”—the heavy trucks—had caused horrific accidents that were still visible every few kilometers.

Fragile private cars had been sucked under trailers, flattened and crushed. Some, under the force of impact, had been compressed from five meters long to just a few dozen centimeters. One didn’t even need to imagine the state of the people inside; their bodies and bones would have been pulverized. In some sections, pile-ups involving dozens of vehicles presented a scene so gruesome it would challenge anyone’s nerves. The carnage was more terrifying than a battlefield.

The off-road motorcycle weaved through the highway. In some sections, the entire road was blocked by crashed cars, and Zhou Yuanqiang would gun the engine to leap directly over them. It seemed the virus had struck suddenly; people were infected while driving, so not a single car along this road had been parked normally—all had come to a halt only through collisions.

Being in a place like this, one could fully imagine the initial chaos: the sound of countless cars crashing into each other, the screams of the people, and those who turned into zombies crawling out of their vehicles to pounce on the uninfected survivors. Everything had eventually been frozen in time once no humans were left.

A large number of zombies existed on the highway, wandering between the scrapped cars. Occasionally, some would climb onto the roofs of the vehicles.

The appearance of Zhou Yuanqiang on his motorcycle was like a stone thrown into a still pond. The zombies lingering on the highway looked like starving ghosts who had discovered food. Emitting their specialized “wu-wu” moans, they closed in on Zhou Yuanqiang through the gaps between the abandoned cars.

He silently drew a Desert Eagle from his storage space—a powerful handgun obtained from Kosov’s camp with a massive recoil. However, for Zhou Yuanqiang, that wasn’t an issue. As soon as the gun was out, he raised his hand and blasted a zombie directly ahead.

Its head was completely shattered. The headless zombie was sent flying by the massive force, slamming into a car behind it before rolling to the ground.

The encircling zombies left a small gap after one was killed. Zhou Yuanqiang’s motorcycle sped through the opening, leaving the group behind.

However, the entire highway was covered in zombies. As soon as he shook off one group, another would lunge toward him.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s brow furrowed. He considered driving into the nearby fields, but this was a subtropical region; the fields were full of moisture and very soft, making them unsuitable for vehicle travel. Having no other choice, he could only continue to speed along the highway.

Fortunately, he was riding a motorcycle. If he were in a car, he wouldn’t even be able to think about passing through this road. Some spots only allowed enough space for a motorcycle to pass. At times, he had to make sharp twists and turns to navigate through the barricades of abandoned cars. The zombies’ slow movement speed was the only reason Zhou Yuanqiang was able to travel successfully.

After driving on this level-two highway for half an hour, he finally spotted the expressway. Looking at the road sign, it was the expressway leading from G City to City S.

Without hesitation, he steered the off-road motorcycle onto the expressway.

The expressway was similarly filled with abandoned cars, most of which had crashed into the median strip or veered off the road. Wandering zombies were just as numerous. However, the wide expressway couldn’t be completely blocked by cars, allowing him to utilize the motorcycle’s speed.

Maintaining a speed of 80 kilometers per hour, he headed toward City S along the expressway.

Zhou Yuanqiang was very familiar with this highway. Back when he was a migrant worker, he had to take long-distance buses to return to his hometown, and they always took this route. Despite the apocalypse and the modern era being two different branches of time, the expressway itself hadn’t changed much.

Having gone six and a half years without maintenance, the vegetation in the median strip had grown wild, with some branches hanging over the road. Some fruit trees planted there were nearing maturity in this September season, emitting a thick, fruity scent.

The road surface near the median was covered in mounds of darkened, rotted fruit that had fallen over the years without anyone to pick them.

Clearly, the unpicked fruit meant there were no survivors here.

Holding onto the principle of “better safe than sorry,” Zhou Yuanqiang fired two or three shots from his Desert Eagle into the air every few minutes. The loud crack of the Desert Eagle would carry very far, serving to alert anyone that a person was here, hoping for a response.

Unfortunately, after changing magazines several times along the way, he received no such response.

The entire expressway was a veritable zombie menagerie. Here, one could see many familiar zombie types, such as Volt-Zombies, Spine-Zombies, and gross monsters. They would always launch an attack as soon as the motorcycle came within range.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t worry about these long-range zombies at all because their projectile speed wasn’t very fast. Their attacks couldn’t possibly hit him while he maintained a speed of 80 kilometers per hour. Usually, by the time their attacks reached his previous position, he would have long since sped past, rendering their strikes meaningless.

The real threats were the Giant Zombies. They stood directly on the expressway, and every movement they made could be described as world-shaking.

Upon Zhou Yuanqiang’s appearance, they would start a sprint, charging down the highway toward him.

On such an open expressway, the momentum of their charge was magnificent. Every car blocking their path was swatted away like a toy, as they forced a clear path through the wreckage.

Dealing with these behemoths relied on agility. At the moment they charged, he used speed and drifting to bypass them. Most of the time, their fists would miss, slamming into the road surface. Their immense strength was enough to leave cracks in the expressway’s pavement.

Whenever he passed close to them, Zhou Yuanqiang was struck by their sheer size, marveling at the virus’s miraculous, horrific capacity for creation.

Besides these, there were some high-level zombies whose running speed was not slow. Dozens of them chasing behind the motorcycle made for an extremely spectacular scene.

The expressway passed through several towns, but since it was built as an elevated bridge, it wasn’t overrun by the massive hordes of zombies within the towns themselves. Passing through these coastal towns—which were essentially second-tier cities—six and a half years had left them looking dilapidated and weathered. Many billboards had fallen, while others hung precariously, swaying in the wind.

As developed towns, they were filled with factories where countless migrant workers once lived and worked. This meant that the streets Zhou Yuanqiang saw along the way were packed with dense crowds of zombies. Half of them were completely naked, their disgusting bodies exposed. After six and a half years of sun, wind, and rain, poorly made clothing had simply rotted away.

When they heard the roar of the motorcycle, they were like cats smelling fish, surging forward and crowding together desperately.

In these areas, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t dare linger, keeping his speed constant as he flew along the expressway.

Surprisingly, in this central zombie region, he didn’t see any Bird Zombies. Zhou Yuanqiang hypothesized that the influence of the Commercial Association’s fighter jets hadn’t reached this far yet, so the Corpse Queen’s mutation genes hadn’t been triggered. Based on this judgment, there must be a Corpse Queen to the east of Qingyuan City, as only she had the ability to breed new specialized zombie species.

“I wonder if the Special Infected among the zombies can communicate with each other.”

Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t figure this out either. If one said they had no thoughts or consciousness, then why did some of them react to the outside world? But if they did have thoughts and consciousness, why couldn’t they distinguish things or make judgments?

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes, zombies were undoubtedly a complex hybrid entity, and humanity should not overlook their existence.

The area around City S was by no means sparsely populated. Even the rural areas had been developed, with villages connecting to villages and towns to towns. Starting from G City, almost the entire route was comprised of human residential areas, and the population density had once been very high.

This also meant that Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t dare stop for even a moment, trying his best to keep moving.

To Zhou Yuanqiang’s disappointment, after traveling over 100 kilometers, he found no survivors. Given the density of zombies here, how could there possibly be any living space for humans? There was very little farmland here, only rows upon rows of factories; the problem of food alone would be unsolvable.

After exiting the expressway and getting onto the national highway entrance toward City S, he reached a service area where he used to stop while taking the long-distance bus home.

Recalling that it used to cost two yuan to use the toilet, twenty-five for a fast-food meal, five for a tea egg, and ten for a cup of instant noodles, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but smile. Back then, he would rather go hungry than eat the food here. He would even endure insults and judging looks to relieve himself in a corner of the wall just because two yuan was too expensive and he couldn’t bear to spend it.

Perhaps out of nostalgia, Zhou Yuanqiang rode his motorcycle into the service area. Looking toward the restrooms, he imagined the scenes of countless people queuing up to relieve themselves. He gave a bitter smile; in this world, all of that had vanished. To see such a classic scene again would likely require several hundred years of development.

Several buses were parked in the service area. The number of zombies wasn’t very high, but they instinctively surged toward him upon seeing him.

Zhou Yuanqiang had no interest in playing with them. He quickly drove out of the service area and onto the national highway. This area was the only part of City S that hadn’t been fully developed yet, surrounded by vast vegetable fields. Most of the vegetables for the nearby areas were supplied from these regions. Numerous vegetable farmers had struck gold here; especially during economic crises when prices rose, expensive vegetables earned them a fortune.

Ten minutes later, buildings began to increase in number, with factory buildings everywhere.

As the most important national highway connecting to City S, it handled sixty percent of the city’s vehicle traffic. In the old days, there was never a moment’s pause in traffic, with all sixteen lanes filled with cars one after another. When Zhou Yuanqiang was a struggling worker, his favorite thing to do was stand on the national highway’s pedestrian bridge and watch the various cars speeding below.

In the apocalypse, the massive flow of traffic had completely blocked the entire national highway. In some places, even a motorcycle couldn’t pass through.

Left with no choice, Zhou Yuanqiang had to ride in the non-motorized vehicle lane on the side of the highway.

As he neared City S, the number of zombies began to peak. The zombies appearing on the highway were no longer in small groups but in massive swarms. They cut off the national highway, covering the road and the connecting streets. High-level zombies occasionally leaped like fish out of water, jumping between the scrapped cars.

“Damn it, how is my travel getting more and moreprimitive? I started in the sky, then I was on the road, and now I can only walk.”

The density of zombies forced Zhou Yuanqiang to abandon the idea of using the motorcycle. After putting it back into his storage space, he made a sprint. Like a climbing monkey, he ascended an eight-story building in a few quick moves.

The buildings here were packed together tightly, one after another, separated only by narrow streets.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s 42-times-strength ability made his jumping distance no different from a superhero’s. Therefore, even if streets separated the buildings, it had no effect on him. Standing on the roof of this eight-story factory, he looked out over the infinite expanse of buildings. Spotting another factory roof about a dozen meters away, he broke into a sprint. Using the edge of the roof as a springboard, he leaped forward with force.

Like a great bird, Zhou Yuanqiang soared through the air and landed steadily on the opposite side with a soft thud.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t stop. Gathering his energy, he sprinted and leaped across the rooftops of the buildings. Occasionally, in a moment of exhilaration, he would let out a loud shout.

The zombies below certainly noticed the figure sprinting and jumping over the rooftops, but by the time they reacted, the person had already vanished from their sight. Moreover, they couldn’t possibly catch up with him on the rooftops. Zhou Yuanqiang’s sprinting and shouting only caused a minor ripple among the zombies before things quickly settled back into silence.

Having never experienced this sensation before, Zhou Yuanqiang felt like he was Spider-Man or perhaps a martial arts master, wall-walking and capable of anything.

“Maybe I should try being a superhero in the modern world… of course, provided I’m not caught and sliced open for study.”

As Zhou Yuanqiang thought this, he knew very well that if a “superhero” like him appeared, it wouldn’t cause a sensation of admiration like in the movies. Instead, it would spark fear of the unknown. He wouldn’t become a hero; he would become a target of jealousy and fear, chased down by everyone like a cornered rat.

Chapter 316: The Self-Exploder

The sprinting and leaping across rooftops continued. Zhou Yuanqiang’s first stop was the area where his warehouse was located in the modern world.

Perhaps because the river of history had branched off, in this post-apocalyptic timeline, the area remained a warehouse district, looking unchanged from the outside. The only difference was that the three warehouses he had rented did not belong to the Yuanqiang Trading Company, but were instead the supply depots for a business called Qilin Industrial Company.

“It seems the two timelines do indeed share many similarities, yet possess subtle differences.”

Carrying a feeling that was somewhere between joy and disappointment, Zhou Yuanqiang cast a few glances at the warehouse area. Then, amid his wild dash, he climbed and leaped onto a tall building in a few fluid motions, shaking off the zombies that had spotted him. This area belonged to a certain district outside the main city center of City S. It lacked a high density of skyscrapers, making it perfectly suited for Zhou Yuanqiang’s rooftop-style movement.

Even just a single district outside the main city center of City S was incredibly vast. Relying on his familiarity with the area, he searched places where humans might potentially exist. Unfortunately, he found nothing.

As the sky gradually began to dim, Zhou Yuanqiang moved toward the coast; it was the only place he hadn’t searched yet. Of course, he didn’t hold much hope. In his memory, the coast here was even worse than the riverside—it was littered with garbage and polluted by sewage runoff, causing the entire sea to emit a thick, foul stench. The seawater had been a murky yellow-black.

However, that was the coast from his memories. When Zhou Yuanqiang actually reached the shore, what he saw was almost hard to believe.

Six and a half years into the apocalypse, without industry, human waste, active coastal sand mines, or people randomly tossing trash, the environment had changed. Under the cleansing power of time, the seawater was now a brilliant azure. The once-stinking coastal mud had turned into a thin layer of fine sand. A few small coconut trees, only slightly taller than a person, grew freely in the gentle sea breeze.

If no accidents occurred, in another few years, this place would likely become a vast, endless beach of scenic beauty. Man-made destruction was gradually being healed and its polluted wounds repaired by the miracle of nature.

“Could it be that this Great Cataclysm was nature’s punishment for humanity?”

Zhou Yuanqiang gazed at the long-lost azure seawater. He didn’t know whether he should believe in nature’s retribution. Humanity’s industrial civilization had wreaked truly immense havoc on nature. The vanishing forests, the drying rivers, the extinct species—all of it had been slowly pushing the Earth toward the abyss of death. Perhaps this great disaster was meant to wash away industrial civilization. With the current number of survivors, it would give the Earth several centuries of time to recover.

One could imagine that in decades or a century, countless cities would have crumbled into ruins, and trees would have grown to turn the continents into vast forests once more.

As expected, as he moved along the coastline, he found no traces of human activity. Plants and weeds grew rampant everywhere. Zhou Yuanqiang tried foraging along the newly formed beach and was gratified to find that many creatures in the sea had not been affected by the apocalypse. For instance, there were many small fish and shrimp; though not in great numbers, they hadn’t been wiped out.

Whenever he thought about the mysterious ocean, Zhou Yuanqiang always felt it was unfathomable.

He didn’t know exactly what effect the apocalypse had on the oceans, but he was certain the sea would develop its own unique ecology. If the land could evolve biochemical beasts, then creatures like sharks in the ocean must have surely mutated as well. And as for the even larger marine life, what was their situation like?

When the sky turned completely dark, Zhou Yuanqiang chose the rooftop of a fifteen-story building as his teleportation point and vanished from this post-apocalyptic City S.

When he teleported back to modern-day Mogadishu, Somalia, it was just after one o’clock in the morning. After resting for a few hours and taking advantage of the time difference, he handled some matters regarding the Steel Park. After eating a breakfast in that foreign land and confirming that the time in the apocalypse was early morning, Zhou Yuanqiang teleported back.

Feeling the gentle sea breeze, he gazed into the distance. A sliver of golden sunlight appeared, followed by the sun, which initially looked no larger than a fist. A new day in the apocalypse had begun.

Following the route in his memory, Zhou Yuanqiang began to enter the city center of City S. As an international metropolis, the wealth of City S was staggering. Since he had come to this city and was so familiar with it, there was no reason for him to pass up the dozen or so gold and silver jewelry malls scattered about. Based on the fame of these dozen malls alone, the jewelry in each would be worth at least several hundred million to over a billion.

As items without owners, Zhou Yuanqiang had never been one to stand on ceremony; he would take it all with a perfectly clear conscience.

His first target was the Ocean International Jewelry Mall, which claimed to be the third-ranked mall in City S. It was valued at over a billion and gathered famous jewelry boutiques from all over the world.

Back when Zhou Yuanqiang was still a mere laborer, he had visited once. He had seen a tiny ring costing one or two thousand, while some pieces crafted by master jewelers were worth hundreds of thousands or even millions. Some of the “treasures of the store” diamond pieces reached values of several million. Back then, Zhou Yuanqiang had thought foolishly: If a woman wears millions in jewelry, does she even dare to walk down the street?

Later, once he had made his fortune and controlled the massive power of the Commercial Association, he had conversely looked down on such things.

“I didn’t come all this way just to go back empty-handed. I need to get some travel expenses. Besides, the Steel Park in Somalia consumes money too quickly. Before the industry chain is fully formed, there’s no talk of profit. There’s no choice; with such a good opportunity to make money, I’d be a fool not to take it.”

It was a mindset similar to a bandit’s, but it was undeniable that when a billion-plus in wealth is laid out before you for the taking, anyone would be tempted.

Zhou Yuanqiang acknowledged he was tempted. That was why he wanted to claim these countless jewels for himself.

When he arrived at the Ocean International Jewelry Mall, he stood on the rooftop of the building opposite and looked down at the street. The number of zombies wasn’t excessive; it wasn’t a sea of monsters. They wandered the streets in small, scattered groups and had not noticed Zhou Yuanqiang standing atop the building.

The entire mall had five floors. No matter how fast Zhou Yuanqiang was, if he alerted the zombies and they swarmed him, it would be difficult to get his hands on all the jewelry.

To avoid alerting them, he utilized his speed combined with the unique nature of spatial teleportation. With every dash, before the zombies could react, he would duck back into the modern world. A few minutes later, he would teleport back and dash again. Repeating this cycle, he managed to enter the jewelry mall without being discovered by the zombies.

The glass doors of the mall had long since shattered, leaving glass shards all over the floor along with scattered pieces of jewelry.

Someone must have gotten the same idea when the apocalypse first struck. Perhaps due to panic, the jewelry they were holding had constantly spilled onto the ground. Following the trail of scattered ornaments outward, Zhou Yuanqiang discovered a cloth bundle filled with loose jewelry on the street where the zombies wandered. There was no need to guess—the poor soul had been caught by the zombies after rushing out of the mall and had become one of them.

Birds die for food, men die for wealth. This was perfectly exemplified by that poor soul.

Thinking of this, Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly mocked himself. Was his current behavior not exactly like the other person, risking his life entering this mall for the jewelry inside? “Though, I suppose I’m not really taking a risk, right? With my Armor Art, it’s very difficult for zombies to hurt me.”

Operating on the principle that every little bit helps, no matter how small, Zhou Yuanqiang happily pocketed the scattered jewelry.

Actually, the area near the entrance of the mall mostly housed average jewelry stores, like Lukfook Jewellery. Their business philosophy catered to the middle-and-lower class consumer base, so their pieces ranged from a few hundred to tens of thousands; one rarely saw items exceeding a hundred thousand.

The glass of the counters here had long since broken. All Zhou Yuanqiang had to do was visit each counter and sweep the jewelry inside directly into his storage space.

There were zombies in the mall, of course, but the moment one popped its head out, the silenced pistol in Zhou Yuanqiang’s hand would immediately deliver a bullet to its brain. Being only ordinary zombies, they posed limited trouble. It only took a little over half an hour for the entire Ocean International Jewelry Mall to be cleaned out, netting Zhou Yuanqiang well over a billion.

With the entire jewelry mall’s contents in his possession, Zhou Yuanqiang was practically grinning. Whenever he wanted to give someone a gift in the future, with all this jewelry in his storage space, would he ever have to worry again?

Though a day seemed long, by the time Zhou Yuanqiang had looted nine out of the dozen-plus jewelry malls, the sky had already begun to darken toward evening. When doing something of interest, time always seemed to fly—at least, that’s what Zhou Yuanqiang felt. The nine jewelry malls had yielded a profit of six to seven billion. What could be more satisfying than this? It was essentially no different from robbing a bank.

The next day, after a night of excitement, Zhou Yuanqiang teleported back to the apocalypse early to head toward the remaining malls.

As the industry leader of the City S jewelry world, the store was located in the most prosperous commercial district of City S. The foot traffic here was known as the highest in the city, and it was called the “Sleepless Commercial Center.” No matter the time, the flow of people never diminished. Even after midnight, the streets remained packed with crowds, and every shop operated twenty-four hours a day, constantly restocking.

It was said in City S that if you kidnapped any shop owner in this commercial district—no matter how small their shop was—they were guaranteed to be a multimillionaire.

The buildings here weren’t exceptionally tall, the highest being only a dozen floors, while most were five or six. In such a place, Zhou Yuanqiang was like a fish in water, even more agile and frantic than Spider-Man. With a series of leaps, he appeared on the roof of the largest jewelry mall in City S.

The security of a jewelry store was naturally incomparable to other places. However, in the apocalypse, all security had become a joke; even the alarm systems had failed. Thus, Zhou Yuanqiang used the giant sword in his hand to carve the alloy door right out of the wall from the roof entrance and walked in confidently.

Suddenly, a zombie that had been a security guard in life lunged at him, giving Zhou Yuanqiang quite a fright.

He used the giant sword to slice it in two and then fired a follow-up shot into its head, returning the area to silence. The mall’s security room was located on the top floor. Walking down the corridors, he occasionally bumped into small groups of zombies. Because they had been sheltered inside the building, their security uniforms were still quite intact, confirming their identities.

Fighting his way down to the jewelry floors, Zhou Yuanqiang calculated that at least fifty or sixty security guard zombies had died by his hand. It was clear the mall had spared no expense on security. With Zhou Yuanqiang’s sharp eyes, it wasn’t hard to see that cameras were hidden everywhere, capable of monitoring every corner.

He began harvesting from the highest floor down toward the first, his mouth practically watering at some of the particularly prestigious pieces.

In particular, there was the “Mercury Diamond Necklace,” known as the treasure of the store. It was a piece worth tens of millions. Now, he had obtained it without the slightest effort, making Zhou Yuanqiang grin so wide his teeth almost fell out. There were also several other famous pieces that had been exhibited internationally, each of them equally priceless, now all part of his personal collection.

There were quite a few zombies on the first floor. Zhou Yuanqiang hesitated for a moment but eventually decided to act.

As soon as he stepped off the stairs, the zombies spotted him. Without needing an invitation, they began moving toward him. But that wasn’t the main issue. The main issue was that Zhou Yuanqiang saw several unusual zombies. They weren’t very large, roughly the size of eleven- or twelve-year-old children. However, their bodies showed none of the decay a zombie should have. At first glance, they looked entirely intact; if not for their pale, greenish skin, Zhou Yuanqiang would have almost mistaken them for survivors.

However, when one looked closely, the differences became clear. Their mouths constantly dripped a green liquid. Just like a Corrosive Monster, the liquid possessed a powerful corrosive effect. As they moved, the liquid would drip from their mouths, hitting the floor with a “pitter-patter” sound like frying dough and releasing plumes of acrid smoke.

The corrosive effect of a Corrosive Monster was already enough to make one break into a cold sweat, but these zombies’ liquid was even stronger. The floor had already been eaten away into a pitted mess.

Upon seeing Zhou Yuanqiang, their reaction was intense. While the other zombies were just beginning to move, they had already launched a charge. Their speed was definitely on par with level seven or eight high-level zombies. In such a confined space, they were like lightning, reaching Zhou Yuanqiang in the blink of an eye.

“Holy crap, what kind of monsters are these?”

Zhou Yuanqiang let out a startled cry. His superhuman reflexes allowed him to leap from the stairs to the side at maximum speed. Simultaneously, he activated his Armor Art, encasing his entire body in armor.

One of the zombies seemed unable to check its momentum and slammed straight into the stairs. Before Zhou Yuanqiang’s wide eyes, its cells surged within 0.1 seconds, swelling like a balloon being blown up. With a deafening “bang,” its entire body turned into a spray of liquid rain, painting the entire staircase with a layer of oil-slick green, like a splatter painting.

However, the shock of this “beauty” lasted less than a second before being replaced by horror.

The green liquid sprayed out by the self-explosion acted like corpse-dissolving powder, making a “sizzling” sound as it frantically corroded everything it touched. Even the concrete and steel structure of the stairs had its surface eaten away, becoming pitted and uneven.

“Hiss…”

Zhou Yuanqiang watched this scene. The massive blast radius and the corrosive effect capable of damaging even steel were truly terrifying. One could say this was a close-quarters, suicidal “Self-Exploder” zombie. Their lethality was far greater than that of the ranged Corrosive Monsters.

If one were allowed to use its lightning speed to charge into a dense group of soldiers in close combat, the lethality of a single explosion would make anyone tremble.

The other Self-Exploders didn’t seem to be affected by the liquid; the droplets that landed on them did nothing. Seeing that they had failed to hit Zhou Yuanqiang, they quickly turned and charged at him again.

The power of the Desert Eagle roared in a booming shot, blowing the head off one of the Self-Exploders.

Zhou Yuanqiang originally thought that without a head, it would fall over like any other zombie. But to his surprise, though the Self-Exploder fell, its body cells still began to swell. A moment later, it exploded directly, spraying out countless droplets of green liquid.

“How can it be like this? They explode whether they are alive or dead. This is just broken.”

To learn more about this newly appeared zombie variant, Zhou Yuanqiang aimed at the leg of one of the two remaining Self-Exploders. Amid the roar of the Desert Eagle, he blew its entire leg off. As it fell, Zhou Yuanqiang made a slight adjustment to his aim and blasted a fist-sized hole in the chest of the other one.

The Self-Exploder with the severed leg didn’t blow up; instead, it crawled desperately toward Zhou Yuanqiang. Meanwhile, the one that had been blown backward by the chest shot struggled to its feet a moment later and charged again.

Zhou Yuanqiang fired another shot at the Self-Exploder with the hole in its chest, this time hitting its stomach and opening another large hole.

This time, while it was still flying backward, its cells began to swell, finally turning into a mist of green liquid that scattered everywhere with a corrosive “sizzle.”

“They have two modes of explosion. The first is an impact-triggered self-detonation, and the second is a detonation triggered when they receive sufficient damage. Their movement speed is extremely fast, making them purely suicidal attackers. Other than that, their other abilities are unknown…”

After giving a brief evaluation of the Self-Exploders, Zhou Yuanqiang unhesitatingly shattered the head of the last one that was still crawling forward, letting it turn into a spray of green liquid in its final explosion.

Chapter 317: The Destroyer from the Sea

If you were to ask when Zhou Yuanqiang was at his most diligent… the answer would undoubtedly be right now.

The reason was simple: in a city this massive, there were so many valuables that his hands practically cramped from grabbing them all. Gold in times of chaos, antiques in times of prosperity—Zhou Yuanqiang certainly hadn’t forgotten this. After sweeping away all the gold and jewelry in the city that caught his eye, it was inevitable that he wouldn’t let the more valuable antiques slip through his fingers.

First, he paid a visit to the two museums in City S, stripping them clean of every national treasure. Then, he moved on to the residences of the upper class, indulging in a satisfying spree of looting.

The entire city was swarming with zombies, but for Zhou Yuanqiang, their impact was minimal. He had brought an attack helicopter over from Somalia. For short distances, he simply used his “leap” ability to travel from rooftop to rooftop. For longer distances, the attack helicopter made travel effortless.

During this process, the zombies—the true masters of the city—would naturally not allow Zhou Yuanqiang to come and go as he pleased. Clashes were inevitable. However, thanks to his Armor Art, his strength was multiplied by forty-two. Wielding a giant sword, Zhou Yuanqiang moved through the masses of undead as if they weren’t even there. He carved his way into villa complexes, prying open safes and basements, and stripped every valuable item bare.

In just three short days, Zhou Yuanqiang had nearly forgotten his original purpose, becoming completely immersed in the thrill of accumulating wealth.

Occasionally, he would encounter large-scale zombie blockades. Naturally, since humans and zombies had been sworn enemies since ancient times, both sides would start slaughtering the moment they met. Eventually, Zhou Yuanqiang simply brought a Sand Viper tank from Somalia. He rampaged through the streets, mowed down zombies in swaths, and crushed them into paste under the tank’s treads.

Zhou Yuanqiang had never killed zombies with such reckless abandon before. Throughout this trail of slaughter, he didn’t feel bored; instead, he felt an inexplicable sense of exhilaration.

The harvest from these few days was undoubtedly immense. His massive storage space was already more than half full. With a wave of his hand, mounds of various jewelry would appear, shimmering with golden light. The antiques and calligraphic paintings, in particular, were of such immense value that they were impossible to estimate.

The only thing that troubled Zhou Yuanqiang was whether some of these antiques and paintings also existed in the modern world. If two identical items appeared at once, it would cause a massive problem.

But Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t care that much. Most of the items he took from the museums were national-level treasures. According to the labels, there was even porcelain from the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods. How much would those be worth? Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t even dare to guess; they were essentially priceless. Yet, it also annoyed him that he could only keep these things for himself. If he relied on them to make some quick cash, it wouldn’t be easy. From that perspective, they almost seemed worthless.

Even after gathering all that, Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t finished. He began transferring resources he remembered as being valuable directly to his Steel Park warehouse in Somalia. This was also money. Moreover, many were precious metals used in weapon manufacturing—it would be a waste not to take them.

After a week of this frantic activity, having taken almost everything worth taking, Zhou Yuanqiang finally ended his looting spree with satisfaction. He estimated that he had gathered at least ten billion; he wasn’t sure if this was faster than a money-printing machine, but to use a bit of hyperbole, he was now a man who made hundreds of thousands per second. In the time it took to eat a meal, he brought in over a hundred million.

In terms of wealth, Zhou Yuanqiang was satisfied. But every time he looked at the ring showing his uncompleted mission, his mood soured again.

During his week of madness, he had scoured the entire city and hadn’t found a single trace of a human being. The entire city was deathly silent; aside from the wandering zombies, there were only more wandering zombies. It seemed he was the only living person left in the whole city.

“It looks like City S was wiped clean. Those who didn’t die fled.”

Zhou Yuanqiang set up a beach chair on the roof of a sixty-story building near the shore. Gazing out at the distant sea, he murmured to himself, “There’s probably no chance left in City S. Well, there are plenty of coastal cities. If City S has no one, other cities should. But if I spend this much effort harvesting gold and silver in every city I visit, the mission time will run out before I’ve seen more than a few.”

Thinking of this, Zhou Yuanqiang grew a bit irritable. Today would be his last day in City S; he couldn’t afford to waste any more time here.

The reason he was on the roof of this sixty-story building was primarily to fulfill a small, old wish. When he had first arrived in City S, he had passed through this area. Seeing this skyscraper standing tall above the others, he had thought that lying comfortably in a chair up there, looking out at the ocean, would be one of life’s greatest pleasures.

Now that he had the means, even if it wasn’t in the modern world, he intended to fulfill it.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, if life were too busy, one would lose many things. In moments of leisure, one needed to learn how to enjoy life. For example, going for a swim at the beach… The key was that beaches had many women wearing very little. As a man, never having visited such a place was a true regret. There were many such examples; even if he couldn’t do them all, he needed to do at least one or two.

He recalled a time when he had planned to go to the beach. He had aimed to arrive by five in the evening when the sun wasn’t so harsh, the perfect time for a swim when the crowds were out. Instead, a massive traffic jam held him up until midnight. In a state of near starvation, he ended up eating dinner by the shore in the dark before heading straight back home. It was truly… truly frustrating.

Whenever Zhou Yuanqiang thought about it, he got angry. He began wondering if he should go again. This time, what did traffic jams have to do with him? Cars were outdated now. To stay ahead of the times, he would fly a helicopter over. No more traffic jams.

Just as he was deep in his daydream, his eyes scanned the sea once more…

“Wait, what’s that?”

As if injected with adrenaline, Zhou Yuanqiang reached out, and a pair of binoculars appeared in his hand. He began to observe. Because the distance was quite far, even with binoculars, he could only see a white vessel sitting on the horizon. Its size and type were impossible to determine.

“Aha!” Zhou Yuanqiang grew excited. He slapped his thigh and laughed. “Good thing I stayed here a bit longer, otherwise I would have missed it. In this wasteland, what else besides humans could be sailing a ship? It seems fulfilling this wish to view the sea was worth it!”

But then he thought of the military spirits. Would there be navy military spirits as well?

At that thought, Zhou Yuanqiang’s excitement cooled. He mused, “It’s not impossible. It might even be a ghost ship like in the movies—perhaps a ship from another country that was infected by the virus at sea, and everyone on board turned into zombies. The ocean is vast; a ship could drift for over a decade without ever hitting land.”

Without confirmation, Zhou Yuanqiang held up his binoculars and watched intently.

The ocean was so vast that even when you saw something, it took a long time to get close. Zhou Yuanqiang waited on the skyscraper for over an hour. Eventually, he could confirm that it was a warship.

He could not mistake the turret angles and the structures unique to a military vessel. From the moment he confirmed it was a warship, his heart tightened instinctively. The appearance of a warship meant that the probability of navy military spirits controlling it was highest; the hope of finding human survivors was practically crushed.

The warship’s target seemed to be City S, as evidenced by its increasingly clear silhouette.

“Damn, it’s a guided-missile destroyer. That’s a powerhouse.”

After seeing the ship clearly, Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bitter taste in his mouth. “Are you kidding me? A Luhai-class? Only one was in service in the South Sea Fleet back on the mainland. To run into it here… what are the odds?”

Since the Commercial Association had grown, Zhou Yuanqiang had crammed military knowledge, needing to recognize various types of weaponry.

As a versatile vessel in the modern navy, he had naturally noted the existence of destroyers. In modern records, the Luhai-class only had one ship: the Shenzhen. Although he was in the apocalypse, since things hadn’t changed much, there was no doubt—this vessel was almost certainly the Shenzhen, a Luhai-class destroyer.

“I wonder if these naval military spirits are insanely powerful. If they can detect me from this far and send a few missiles my way, that’ll be a hell of a problem.”

Amidst his wandering thoughts, the details on the destroyer became clear, confirming it was indeed a Luhai-class vessel. But now, through the binoculars, he could see everything on the ship. To Zhou Yuanqiang’s surprise, not a single person was visible on deck. Combined with the roar of the waves, he couldn’t tell if the ship was drifting or under power.

But then he cursed himself. If the ship wasn’t under power, how could it be moving so fast and staying so steady against the currents?

When Zhou Yuanqiang raised his binoculars again, he was delighted to see two small black dots appear on the destroyer. They seemed to be busy with something. From their movements, it wasn’t hard to tell they were human. Zombies couldn’t move like that. More importantly, through the lens, he could see they were wearing clothes and their bodies were intact. They even chatted occasionally. They were absolutely, definitely human.

“There really are people! There really are people!”

To say he wasn’t happy would be a lie. Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t contain his excitement. As long as there were people, it meant his mission could be completed. The crushing weight of the 450% experience penalty was finally lifted from his heart. He wouldn’t have to worry about this damn mission every single day.

Given his understanding of the apocalypse, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t plan on doing anything to attract their attention yet. Who knew if they would fire a missile at him?

Observing carefully, he noticed the destroyer—which was capable of operating two Z-9 or Ka-27 anti-submarine helicopters—showed no signs of any aircraft. Zhou Yuanqiang guessed they might have been lost. However, seeing the missile launchers intact suggested that the destroyer’s combat capabilities were still functional.

The Luhai-class had a draft of six meters. For the many docks in City S, almost any of them could accommodate it.

The destroyer’s goal was clearly the small harbor in front of Zhou Yuanqiang’s building, which was usually used for yachts. Based on its speed and maneuverability, this probably wasn’t their first time here. Zhou Yuanqiang just couldn’t understand what they were doing, sailing a destroyer into this place. Didn’t they know this was a paradise for zombies?

More people appeared on the deck—at least a dozen. Each held a Type 81-1 automatic rifle, the most common equipment for the mainland navy; they likely belonged to the ship’s original armory. As they gazed at the approaching harbor, Zhou Yuanqiang noticed a small number of zombies milling about on the docks.

The zombies couldn’t help but notice such a large target. As the sound of the ship reached them, they began to surge toward the edge of the harbor.

The people on the ship seemed to have anticipated this. After the destroyer slowed down and drew close, it didn’t dock immediately. Instead, it held a certain distance.

The people on the deck didn’t open fire. Instead, they pulled out pieces of bright red cloth and waved them frantically, agitating the zombies on the dock.

Stimulated, the zombies crowded together. Those in the back pushed forward, shoving the front row directly into the sea. One after another, the zombies plunged into the water like dumplings into a pot. In just a few moments, the entire dock was cleared of zombies without a single shot being fired.

Zhou Yuanqiang watched this scene in stunned silence. He never imagined zombies could be so easily fooled. They had jumped into the water one by one like little ducklings!

He used his binoculars to look at the water. The zombies that jumped in struggled for a moment before sinking to the bottom. Since the harbor was generally over ten meters deep, once they sank, they likely wouldn’t be coming back up for eternity. Furthermore, Zhou Yuanqiang wondered if zombies could even drown.

The question of whether they could drown wasn’t something he could verify right now, so he turned his attention back to the ship.

He didn’t know how many people were on the ship in total, but there were about a dozen on the deck. They were dressed differently; some wore ordinary clothes, some wore old white naval uniforms, and some wore army fatigues. There had to be more people inside. After clearing the zombies, the destroyer slowly docked.

A moment later, another dozen or so people surged from the interior onto the deck. There were men and women among them.

Through the binoculars, it seemed their leader was a tall woman. She wore black leathers, with a pistol holstered on each hip and a bandolier draped over her shoulder. Not only that, but she also carried a Type 81 automatic rifle and wore an expression of cold indifference. She was quite beautiful in Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes, though not a world-class beauty.

Wait… damn it, that rifle doesn’t use a belt. Why was she wearing a bandolier? Was she just posturing?

The two groups merged, totaling about thirty people. After disembarking, they walked to an indoor parking lot at the edge of the harbor. Soon, several trucks and sports cars drove out.

Watching them now, Zhou Yuanqiang had no idea what they were trying to do. Didn’t they know that beyond the harbor, the world was filled with endless zombies? Moreover, seeing them use cars… were they planning to charge out of the harbor area? With only thirty people, that seemed incredibly reckless.

From his current vantage point, Zhou Yuanqiang could naturally overlook everything in the vicinity.

Sadly, these people had chosen the wrong time to arrive. From his angle, Zhou Yuanqiang could see three Giant Zombies idling amidst the crowds of regular zombies nearby. He had noticed them since he arrived on the roof, but he’d had no reason to bother them.

Now, if this group made any significant noise, they would definitely alert those three behemoths. With so few people, a single charge from a Giant Zombie would leave less than half of them alive. Given a Giant Zombie’s defense and specialized muscle structure, a Type 81 rifle would be useless; it wouldn’t even scratch them.

“I know it’s there, but they don’t!”

Zhou Yuanqiang started to feel conflicted. Should he warn them?

The people below didn’t care what Zhou Yuanqiang was thinking. These trucks and sports cars were clearly vehicles they had prepared beforehand, as they required no repairs and were started immediately. Their engines weren’t loud, and with the sound of the ocean, they didn’t immediately attract the zombies’ attention.

Perhaps relying on their familiarity with the area, they didn’t even send out scouts. After boarding the trucks, they began to drive toward the harbor gates.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s brow furrowed. He gave a wry smile and said to himself, “From a human perspective, I have to warn them no matter what. Regardless of their objective, with those three Giant Zombies there, they won’t succeed anyway. I might as well be a good guy and lend a hand!”

The best method wasn’t shouting from the building, but something far more direct… Like the rocket launcher Zhou Yuanqiang had already pulled out. He only needed to fire one shot at the zombies below. It would be like throwing water into a hot pan of oil—the effect would be immediate. The whole area would erupt in an instant!

Chapter 318: An Empty Shell

Zhou Yuanqiang was prepared to press the launch button, but he hesitated and ultimately stopped.

Judging by how familiar they were with this area, this couldn’t be their first time here. They must have understood the situation in City S and known about the sea of zombies outside. Knowing that, if they still dared to drive their vehicles out of the port, could they really be fools?

But had anyone ever seen a fool capable of operating a destroyer?

Since they weren’t fools, they definitely had their own way of dealing with it. Perhaps his “good firewood” would only end up burning their stove, turning his good intentions into a mess. It was with this realization that Zhou Yuanqiang halted his actions. And indeed, just as he suspected, the vehicles suddenly vanished after exiting the port.

“Damn, am I seeing things?”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s jaw nearly dropped in astonishment as he rubbed his eyes.

The destroyer was still in the port, proving it wasn’t a hallucination or blurred vision. But how did those vehicles just disappear? Retracting the rocket launcher, Zhou Yuanqiang raised his binoculars to search again. He didn’t believe he had actually run into a ghost in broad daylight.

Although Zhou Yuanqiang had lived in City S for several years, he had only visited this specific area once, right when he first arrived in the city. Aside from this skyscraper, he had almost no memory of the place.

Soon, with the help of the binoculars, he finally found the reason. At the port’s exit, there was an entrance to an underground road. Inside the port gates, several layers of wire fencing acted as barriers. Unless the zombies launched a large-scale migration, it would be difficult for them to scale the fences.

The prosperity of City S and its massive number of cars often led to frequent traffic jams on the streets. Consequently, the government had exercised its imagination by building an underground tunnel beneath the streets to solve the traffic flow issues on major thoroughfares. Zhou Yuanqiang hadn’t known there was one at the port, which led to his surprise and his suspicion that his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Understanding this, Zhou Yuanqiang found himself in a difficult position.

He didn’t have X-ray vision; he couldn’t know where this underground tunnel led or where they intended to go.

“If I’d known, I would have brought a map of City S. That would have solved everything,” Zhou Yuanqiang muttered, somewhat annoyed. He could only retract his binoculars and slump back into his beach chair. He casually summoned a mobile refrigerator, took out a bottle of ice-cold fruit juice, and began to enjoy himself.

There was nothing else to do; he could only wait for them to come out. He couldn’t exactly run down there now and go looking for them through the underground tunnel, could he?

He glanced at the destroyer still docked in the port. On the deck that had just been empty, several armed men were now on guard. This made Zhou Yuanqiang hesitate—should he go down and experience a destroyer for himself? Having lived this long, he had never been aboard a warship before… or maybe he could make this destroyer his own?

He thought about his storage space. Currently, he could only carry objects no longer than 22 meters. It was simply impossible to fit this 153-meter-long destroyer inside. Based on the rate of his space’s expansion, there was no hope of realizing this dream for at least a year or two.

Feeling bored again, he leaned back in the beach chair, braving the sunlight and sipping his juice.

About fifteen minutes later, intense gunfire erupted from within the city. According to Zhou Yuanqiang’s understanding, it must be those guys appearing in that area and engaging with the zombies. He stood up to look; it seemed the place they had appeared was City S’s most prosperous commercial district—specifically, the area of the leading jewelry mall he had previously patronized.

“What are those guys doing going over there?”

Zhou Yuanqiang muttered to himself but didn’t pay it much mind. Instead, he took his binoculars and carefully observed the destroyer, constantly making plans. For instance, the radar system on the destroyer—air search, sea search, all that—a series of electronic equipment, anti-aircraft guns, and so on; these were military technologies that the Commercial Association sorely lacked. He had to get them back for research; it would be a huge help to the Commercial Association’s military development…

The people below, of course, couldn’t know that the warship beneath their feet had already been appraised by Zhou Yuanqiang. It wouldn’t be surprising if the destroyer was stripped apart one day.

The gunfire didn’t last long and soon ceased, after which the entire city fell silent again. However, the zombies affected by the gunfire became frenzied. Boiling over, they crowded the streets and moved toward the commercial center. Like countless streams of water starting to converge, the scene was truly staggering.

The port area was too far away to be significantly affected; the zombies there weren’t stimulated and remained the same as before.

After a long while, several sports cars rushed out of the port’s underground tunnel, followed by a few trucks. They looked quite disheveled, constantly glancing back at the tunnel as if something were chasing them.

To make matters worse, the sound of the car engines definitely stimulated the zombies trapped against the wire fencing at the port. Once they spotted these moving targets, they became turbulent, constantly slamming into the wire mesh with loud crashes. More terrifyingly, three Giant Zombies moved upon hearing the sound, striding toward the port.

Their movement naturally meant a large number of unlucky zombies were flattened by them on the street, turning into tragedy-stricken corpses.

This series of changes happened in a heartbeat. Not to mention the people below, even Zhou Yuanqiang was caught off guard. Ultimately, in Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, their luck was simply too wretched. Everything was fine when they went in, but problems arose the moment they returned. If that wasn’t bad luck, what was?

Shouts rang out in the port as the sports cars and trucks all came to a stop. The people on board jumped out one after another and ran toward the destroyer.

“Hey, for grandmother’s sake, wait…”

Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t just let them run away like that, or how else would he complete his mission? In his urgency, he directly hoisted his rocket launcher and fired a shot at the horde of zombies in front of the port’s wire fence.

From the top of the sixty-story building, the rocket trailed a tongue of fire and reached the dense zombie horde below in the blink of an eye, blasting a dozen zombies into the air.

The zombies weren’t dazed by this sudden attack; instead, they became even more frenzied. Only the people running were stunned for a moment, and some even stopped. The lead woman shouted something; Zhou Yuanqiang could vaguely hear her yelling about who told someone to open fire.

With a cold sneer, Zhou Yuanqiang loaded another rocket and fired it toward the three charging Giant Zombies.

Having completed this, he didn’t even stay to see the results. A glider was one of Zhou Yuanqiang’s essential escape tools and had never left his storage space. Now… was the time to use it. Opening its wings, he didn’t say a word and took a sudden sprint, leaping off the top of the sixty-story skyscraper and gliding through the sky toward the port below.

“Help! Save me! Save me…”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s screaming, with its tearful tone, made even him wonder if he was truly in distress. Perhaps, with this acting skill, it was a real pity he hadn’t become an actor. In truth, he had no choice; he couldn’t just appear grandiosely and expect them to take him in, could he? This necessary display of being a pitiful victim was required as a finishing touch.

To be honest, Zhou Yuanqiang’s powerful entrance did leave the people below dumbfounded, all of them staring at the man descending from the sky.

The only flaw was that these people only paused for a moment and didn’t offer any words of praise before taking off again. No matter how beautiful the entrance, it couldn’t compare to the heart-pounding sight of the wire fences collapsing. Without the wire fences, the zombies outside entered as if into an uninhabited land, surging into the port frantically.

“Fortunately, my speed is faster than theirs. Hey, damn it, don’t start the ship yet!”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s smugness didn’t last more than half a second because he noticed the destroyer’s main engines starting. After waiting for all personnel to board, it began to pull away from the port, completely disregarding the fact that Zhou Yuanqiang hadn’t boarded yet. In their eyes, there was likely no such thing as being “helpful.”

Helpless, Zhou Yuanqiang had to use his trump card. He started the glider’s engine, and under its power, he lunged toward the destroyer, which had already moved a few meters away from the port.

Luckily, the people below only stared at Zhou Yuanqiang without firing. Amidst this stroke of luck, the landing was inevitably dangerous. His excessive gliding speed caused him to crash into a structure on the destroyer before coming to a stop. Zhou Yuanqiang was fine, but the glider’s frame was deformed, rendering it useless.

Several muzzles were pointed at him as a group of people surrounded Zhou Yuanqiang. Among them, the female leader had a cold gaze. If she had used her foot to step on him, Zhou Yuanqiang would have wondered if they were playing out some S&M scene. Her clothes and her demeanor… looked exactly the part.

“Ha, everyone, let’s talk this out. Watch out, your guns might go off!”

The female leader gave a cold snort and said, “Slick-talking. One look and I can tell you’re not a good person.”

Zhou Yuanqiang looked at them, then back at himself, and said, “How do I not look like a good person? Must a good person have the words ‘Good Person’ carved on their face to count?”

The guns pointed at him were lowered, but the twenty-some burly men were still staring at Zhou Yuanqiang like tigers watching their prey.

After the destroyer turned around, it headed back toward the open sea, presumably on its return voyage. Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t guess where they actually lived.

Inside the command tower, there were several people still working, seemingly responsible for the navigation of the destroyer. Zhou Yuanqiang was unceremoniously invited inside, and then three burly men were left to guard him. Shortly after, the female leader approached to question him. “Were you following us the whole way?”

“You wrong me! I’ve always lived in this city. Besides, if I were following you, with this destroyer’s radar system, how could I have fooled you?”

To prove himself, Zhou Yuanqiang added, “If you don’t believe me, go out and look at the glider I used. Isn’t the shop printed on it located right here in City S?” The glider had been purchased in the modern City S, so it naturally had the name and address of a shop on it.

The female leader jerked her head, and a burly man went out, returning shortly after to give her a nod.

“What’s your name? How could you have lived for six and a half years in a city with so many zombies? We’ve visited quite a few times, so how have we never seen you? Also, that explosion just now—did you cause it?”

The female leader was quite blunt, firing off a barrage of questions.

In fact, Zhou Yuanqiang knew that she was only asking these as a formality. People were scarce in this apocalypse; no matter how suspicious someone was, she wouldn’t think he had some grand malicious intent. Moreover, even if he gave his name, she might not know what it represented. So, Zhou Yuanqiang’s account was honest.

Once things were cleared up, the other party said nothing more. Although there were still people monitoring him, it wasn’t like before.

Perhaps because the objective of the mission had failed, everyone on the ship looked somewhat grim. Among them was a woman in her thirties who looked like a fierce sort; she was also carrying a firearm. She said, “Boss, isn’t this too strange? How can everything be gone?”

The female leader was also completely baffled. She said, “It was fine before. How could things just disappear in this dead city? Aimei, do you think it was looted long ago?”

Guo Aimei shook her head and said, “That’s impossible. Even during the chaos of the early days, they wouldn’t have left not even a single piece behind. One person couldn’t possibly carry away so much gold and jewelry, and a large group would definitely alert the zombies. It’s a pity there were too many zombies inside, otherwise, we could have looked around. It wouldn’t be hard to find out what happened.”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s hearing was very sharp, and he heard their conversation clearly. He was stunned for a moment, thinking, It couldn’t be such a coincidence, could it? I just cleaned out that jewelry mall, and their target was the same place? Talk about a coincidence.

Only, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t understand what they wanted gold and jewelry for. Did the place where they lived also use them as currency?

“We’ll come back in a few days. By then, the zombies should have dispersed. There are so many jewelry shops in City S; this time must have just been an outlier.” The female leader was unwilling to accept failure and started planning a second landing.

Unfortunately, Guo Aimei shook her head and said, “Boss, our fuel level won’t allow for another landing.”

Upon hearing this, the cold female leader’s face, which seemed eternally frozen, finally showed a flicker of fury as she slammed her fist onto the command console.

Zhou Yuanqiang leaned gently toward one of the men guarding him and whispered, “Hey buddy, your boss’s figure is damn hot. What’s her name?”

The man was actually quite interesting; a flicker of desire immediately crossed his eyes, only to be replaced by fear. He said, “With your looks, don’t even think about our boss. I can tell you the name, though: Shui Mulian.” After speaking, he tossed his head and muttered, “I’m warning you, don’t get any ideas. Behave yourself, or I’ll take you out with one shot.”

“Shui Mulian? That’s an interesting name. Names with the surname Shui seem quite rare!”

Zhou Yuanqiang savored the name for a moment and smiled. Mulian, as in ‘dusk lotus.’ Could this little lady be having spring fever? In Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes, if Shui Mulian dressed up, she would definitely be an incredibly flirtatious person. If she went to work at a nightclub… Tsk tsk, wouldn’t business be booming like crazy?

Shui Mulian seemed to sense something strange in Zhou Yuanqiang’s gaze and swept a glance over him.

If she knew what Zhou Yuanqiang was currently thinking, his fate would likely be getting torn to pieces and thrown into the sea to feed the fish.

The destroyer’s speed wasn’t very fast; the skyscrapers of City S were still clearly visible. With Zhou Yuanqiang’s abilities, he wasn’t worried about where they were taking him. However, being out at sea for the first time, he found the swaying sensation—which was even more pronounced than being on an airship—to be quite a novel experience.

Using his perception, Zhou Yuanqiang could determine that there were only about fifty people on this destroyer. For a ship designed for a crew of over two hundred, this meant they barely had enough people to keep it running. As for combat posts or the radar, he shouldn’t expect much; they were definitely just for show.

“Heh, so this destroyer is just an empty shell to scare people. I was wondering why they didn’t use the deck guns to blast the zombies.”

Zhou Yuanqiang was wondering if he should negotiate with them to buy the things they had no use for. They couldn’t use them anyway. What weirded Zhou Yuanqiang out was how they had obtained this destroyer. Did they go to the South Sea Naval Base? But that shouldn’t be right; with the military spirits there… could this handful of people even fill the gaps between its teeth?

Looking at their understanding of the ship and even the Type 81 rifles in their hands—which were likely from the destroyer—how had they managed to capture it in the first place?

This time, it was Zhou Yuanqiang’s turn to be baffled. He wanted to ask, but after some thought, he kept his mouth shut. He had just arrived; who knew if they would get annoyed and throw him overboard? Hey, they were coming back empty-handed this time, and from the conversation just now, it seemed their fuel could no longer support the destroyer’s voyages.

Thinking about fuel, Zhou Yuanqiang felt amused. In his storage space, there was still a large fuel tank full of diesel, which was previously meant for the attack helicopters.

“No fuel, plus they’re at sea… destroyer, gold, and jewelry…”

As he synthesized these keywords, Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes suddenly lit up. He seemed to understand why these people wanted to rob a jewelry mall—it really was for the valuables inside. Based on his understanding of the apocalypse, besides the currency introduced by the Commercial Association, gold and crystals were used for trade everywhere else. Some regions only accepted gold.

If his guess wasn’t wrong, they must have wanted to use the gold to trade for fuel for the destroyer.

Zhou Yuanqiang narrowed his eyes. “Which means, in the place where they live, theirs isn’t the only power?”

Chapter 319: Overseas Isolated Island

As they sailed, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but feel that, based on his impressions, the large infected fish in the ocean should have staged some kind of world-shaking ambush.

Yet, until a faint outline of an island appeared on the horizon where the sea met the sky, nothing he had expected happened. He thought about it and gave a wry smile; the fish in the vast ocean were separated by massive volumes of seawater. The number of infected fish was likely quite scarce, so how could he expect to run into them so easily?

It seemed that this island was where Shui Mulian and the others lived. The moment the shadow of the island appeared, their expressions relaxed significantly.

Sure enough, their destination was this very island. As they drew closer, several fishing boats could be seen operating at sea. With Zhou Yuanqiang’s exceptional eyesight, he could see them hauling in net after net. However, they were still too far away to tell how good the catch was.

“I really feel bad for them. Everyone scrambled to pool together what little fuel we had, and we just wasted it.”

Guo Aimei spoke with a hint of guilt. Knowing the training of the Intelligence Department, Zhou Yuanqiang immediately captured a wealth of information from that single sentence, gaining some understanding of their situation. A fuel shortage was indeed a major problem for an island settlement. Almost all of them relied on modern vessels; without fuel, these ships were no different from scrap metal.

Shui Mulian’s expression remained cold, but she suddenly turned her head and said to Zhou Yuanqiang, “I don’t care where you came from. Whether you’re a spy or someone in distress, if you want to eat, you need to work for it. On our Shuimu Island, there’s no such thing as getting something for nothing, and we don’t just give out charity to those waiting for a handout…”

Zhou Yuanqiang had just been lost in his own thoughts. Fortunately, his reactions were quick, and he managed to catch most of what she said. He quickly replied, “Uh, yeah, sure, okay…”

Seeing Zhou Yuanqiang’s dazed look, a slight twitch appeared at the corner of Shui Mulian’s mouth. She turned away again, staring at the sea, lost in her own thoughts. It had been years since she felt true happiness; those moments had long since turned into distant memories. Who could ever make her feel that way again?

The destroyer continued forward. As they neared Shuimu Island, Zhou Yuanqiang got a clearer look at the fishing boats.

The boats capable of operating in these coastal waters weren’t small in tonnage, and they primarily used trawling. If they hit a school of fish, the harvest would be incredibly bountiful. The one Zhou Yuanqiang saw was indeed a decently sized trawler, but it wasn’t actually trawling under power. Instead, they had dropped the nets and were letting the ocean currents drift the boat along to create the tension needed to catch fish.

This energy-saving method was clever, but the results were disappointing. When a net was pulled back, there were very few sea fish inside—sometimes only a dozen or so small fish of various types. The efficiency was so poor it was practically a waste of time. Yet the people on the boat didn’t seem to mind, casting their nets again and again, letting the waves carry them where they would.

In the apocalypse, the oceans had been ravaged by infection. The total number of fish in the entire ocean had plummeted by several dozen percent, resulting in a stark scarcity of marine life.

Even with active trawling, one might not get much of a catch, let alone this method that relied entirely on the waves. The harvest was naturally pitiful. Zhou Yuanqiang realized that, fundamentally, it was because they were trying to save fuel. To get a decent yield, they could only compensate for this drifting style of fishing with sheer hard work.

There wasn’t just one fishing boat around the island; there were at least five or six.

As the destroyer returned, the people on these fishing boats let out cheers and screams of joy.

Hearing these cheers, an inevitable flash of embarrassment crossed Shui Mulian’s face. Returning empty-handed meant she would have to face the questions of everyone on the island. While it wouldn’t immediately threaten her position as the leader of Shuimu Island, it might become an issue if it continued long-term.

The island had a small pre-existing port, which was where the destroyer now docked.

There were also several small boats in the harbor that could only operate near the island. If they wanted to go to places like City S, it was only possible if the sea was perfectly calm; otherwise, they were useless. The destroyer had its own dedicated berth, so the small boats in the port didn’t need to move out of the way.

The main engines were shut down, and the ship slowed to a halt. After docking, a dozen or so burly men from the destroyer jumped off, pulled the thick mooring lines from the deck, and tied them to the iron bollards on the pier.

Several dozen people were waiting at the port. Seeing that those disembarking from the destroyer didn’t look happy, everyone showed looks of disappointment. Leading them was an old navy veteran, dressed in an old, tattered navy uniform. It had been worn for so many years that the threads were coming loose, and after countless repairs, it bore the marks of many years of hardship.

“Mulian, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter if you failed; we can use other things to trade with him.”

The old veteran’s words of comfort, accompanied by a heavy pat on the shoulder, caused the cold expression on Shui Mulian’s face to fade, replaced by a look of guilt. “Old Man Jiu, we were useless. We couldn’t even handle this small task.”

Guo Aimei chimed in from the side, “Old Man Jiu, it was just bad luck. When we rushed into the jewelry mall, we found someone had beaten us to it and cleaned the place out. You should understand, sir—we alerted the zombies and could only retreat to the sea in a hurry. The Chief originally wanted to hit another jewelry store, but the destroyer didn’t have enough fuel, forcing us to abandon the plan. It wasn’t a problem with the Chief’s decision-making.”

“I’m not so old that my eyes or mind are failing. I know Mulian’s character, and I understand the hardships this child bears. Otherwise, why would I have given her command of the destroyer? This… this is the wealth of our nation!” Old Man Jiu seemed filled with an infinite sorrow. The collapse of the nation was a fait accompli that no one could change. What was needed now was to figure out how to survive.

As a retired navy veteran, he was a treasure in his own right. In the Commercial Association, skilled elderly people like him generally served as Technical Consultants, solving countless technical problems and even acting as the backbone of research and development.

If the Commercial Association wanted to develop a navy in the future, someone like Old Man Jiu was a rare gem. Seeing him made Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes light up with greed.

Regardless of how the future developed or if the air force would eventually replace the navy, the maritime assets were something the Commercial Association could not ignore. Even if development was fast, the navy would hold an irreplaceable position in the short term, as evidenced by the Association’s research into naval warships.

How could Zhou Yuanqiang’s fervent gaze hide from an old soldier like Old Man Jiu who had served his whole life? He glanced at Zhou Yuanqiang, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He squinted and said, “Mulian, this young brother doesn’t look like he’s from our island. What’s going on?”

Shui Mulian blinked and then truthfully recounted everything from Zhou Yuanqiang’s appearance to their return.

Old Man Jiu nodded, sized up Zhou Yuanqiang once more, and said to Shui Mulian, “In the apocalypse, people need to help one another. When we see someone in distress, how can we just stand by and watch? A visitor is a guest. In a bit, have someone prepare a special island-style lunch for young brother Zhou, and then show him around properly.”

These words didn’t just surprise Shui Mulian; the others also looked at Zhou Yuanqiang as if he were a freak. They couldn’t understand why Old Man Jiu was suddenly so respectful to this stranger.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind. He smiled at Old Man Jiu and said, “Thank you, Old Man Jiu.”

The crowd gathered at the port scattered under Old Man Jiu’s command. The island wasn’t very large, but it housed several thousand people. To feed so many, hard work was essential. Only by constantly gathering food could they ensure the people on the island wouldn’t starve. Perhaps due to the island’s nature, the crops planted there didn’t yield very well, barely providing enough to feel full.

Shui Mulian’s impression of Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t good; in fact, it was quite poor, mostly due to her personality.

However, under Old Man Jiu’s orders, she could only comply, obediently leading Zhou Yuanqiang toward the center of the island.

Along the way, seeing Shui Mulian leading a strange man, everyone stared in astonishment. It seemed to be an extremely rare occurrence. Even though Shui Mulian and Zhou Yuanqiang walked one behind the other without saying a word, the gossiping residents still whispered amongst themselves, treating it as the day’s entertainment for the island.

Shui Mulian’s expression grew worse. If not for Old Man Jiu’s instructions, she likely would have exploded. Only Zhou Yuanqiang remained unaffected, walking behind her with a cheerful grin, observing everything on the island. In Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes, post-apocalyptic settlements were diverse and strange; to survive better, people often made their settlements incredibly unique.

This island was called Shuimu Island. That likely wasn’t its original name, but one given to it after the apocalypse.

Zhou Yuanqiang knew almost nothing about this sea region, so he had no way of knowing what the island’s original name was. Without knowing their exact coordinates, even if he found a modern map, it would take a great deal of effort to figure it out. But what did it matter what the original name was? It would just be a waste of energy.

Perhaps due to defense concerns, there were no buildings within several hundred meters of the island’s edge. The area was filled with coconut trees and other island vegetation. The entire settlement was hidden beneath the island’s foliage. Looking from a distance, you wouldn’t even be sure anyone lived there.

Their settlement was in the center of the island, in the woods at the foot of a large mountain, consisting of clusters of huts built from plant materials.

What left the deepest impression on Zhou Yuanqiang was that in front of every hut, there were always racks filled with salted dried fish. Occasionally, he could see high-value dried seafood or even dried shark meat. Besides that, there were piles of coconuts and some agricultural produce.

The lunch served to Zhou Yuanqiang was a lavish seafood feast. There were over a dozen different seafood dishes, and he even saw shark fin, which truly exceeded his expectations.

The seafood included both fresh catches and dried products. The person who prepared the lunch must have been a chef with a particular talent for seafood; the taste was truly excellent. Being able to eat such a feast in the apocalypse was quite a surprise to Zhou Yuanqiang.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t care about the cold, slightly disgusted look Shui Mulian gave him from across the table. Like a starving ghost, he swept all dozen dishes into his stomach. He said with satisfaction, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a satisfying meal.” After finishing, he shamelessly added, “My apologies, I’ve finished it all. If you haven’t eaten yet, you can ask the chef to make you something else.”

Shui Mulian’s nose nearly turned crooked with rage.

She had been preparing for the destroyer’s departure since early morning and had only eaten a bit of coconut during the trip. During the failed raid on City S, the inexplicable failure had left her with no appetite. Having finally returned to the island, she was so hungry her stomach was practically sticking to her back, yet this jerk in front of her had unscrupulously devoured everything in a few minutes, not even leaving a drop of sauce.

Even though she had lived here for several years and had seafood every day, shark fin was a rare treat even on the island, and now it had all gone to this bastard.

The more Shui Mulian thought about it, the angrier she got. She slammed the table and stood up, pointing at Zhou Yuanqiang. “If Old Man Jiu didn’t treat you as a guest of honor, I would have thrown you into the sea to feed the fish long ago!”

Zhou Yuanqiang shrugged and stood up, saying leisurely, “Next, we’re going to tour the island. Well, Miss Shui, please lead the way.” He paused, then suddenly added, “I bet you used to be some wealthy man’s spoiled daughter.”

A flash of sorrow crossed Shui Mulian’s eyes, but she said nothing, merely standing up and walking out silently.

Zhou Yuanqiang followed her with a smile. It seemed his guess was nine times out of ten correct; otherwise, she wouldn’t have had that reaction. It made sense; only a pampered young miss would have such a personality and temper. If it wasn’t for this Old Man Jiu protecting her, with her personality, she would have long ago become a plaything for the men on the island. How could she have her current status?

The island wasn’t very large; a full tour would take about half a day. There were no vehicles here, and since it was already afternoon, Shui Mulian only picked a few decent spots and led Zhou Yuanqiang around haphazardly. In her mind, a “pretty boy” with soft skin like Zhou Yuanqiang would likely surrender after just a bit of climbing.

But who could have known that after a few climbs, the man was still grinning, without a single drop of sweat on him? Looking at herself, her clothes were soaked with sweat, occasionally revealing glimpses of her secrets. This made Shui Mulian want to slap Zhou Yuanqiang; it felt like his constant smiling was because he was staring at those spots.

Exasperated, Shui Mulian ignored Old Man Jiu’s instructions, gave Zhou Yuanqiang several furious looks, and stormed off.

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t a fool. Wherever she went, he followed. In terms of speed, it was impossible for her to outrun him. As for familiarity with the terrain, it was useless if she couldn’t shake him. Even though she purposefully led him into dense thickets several times before trying to bolt, with his superhuman perception, he always managed to appear in front of her before she could get away.

As evening approached, the people on the island began to finish their work, ending their day of labor.

Lacking entertainment, they usually ate dinner and went to sleep early to prepare for the next day’s work.

Zhou Yuanqiang was assigned a hut that was relatively clean and didn’t have any strange odors. Because it was night, no one came to attend to him, and everyone fell soundly asleep. However, Zhou Yuanqiang knew that at least six people were monitoring him. The island also had sentries who would stay hidden in the brush along the coast, watching the sea.

One should never intend to harm others, but one must always be on guard against them.

Zhou Yuanqiang understood their approach. He didn’t even take the opportunity to return to the modern era. Instead, he lay on the bed, rolled over a few times, and fell asleep.

The night passed without incident. By the next day, having rested well, Zhou Yuanqiang got up early with the laborers. But while they were working, he was simply wandering around aimlessly.

Old Man Jiu hadn’t sent for him, instead acting as if he didn’t exist. Even Shui Mulian didn’t show up to act as a guide.

When Zhou Yuanqiang wandered down to the port, he saw a group of people on the destroyer below, loading things onto the ship. The person in command was the cold-faced Shui Mulian, shouting at her men to hurry up. He had just been wondering where she was; turns out she was here commanding.

The burly men from yesterday were all there, each carrying a firearm. Even the few female crew members were present.

Guo Aimei stood next to Shui Mulian, occasionally saying a few words to her. Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t hear what they were saying from this distance with the sound of the waves.

“Are they heading out to sea again? I wonder if they’re going back to City S or somewhere else. If it’s City S, given their meal yesterday, I should warn them not to waste their time.”

Thinking this, he walked down and said with a smile, “Brothers, heading out again? Is it City S this time?”

Unfortunately, none of the men loading the boxes paid him any mind. Even Shui Mulian’s brow furrowed, her face showing displeasure. “Why aren’t you sleeping? What are you doing down here? Go back. These aren’t things a ‘pretty boy’ like you needs to know.”

Zhou Yuanqiang gave a few chuckles and looked at the wooden crates the men were carrying. They were actually boxes of dried fish and chunks of coconut meat.

Seeing the Chief’s blunt words, Guo Aimei thought that this man was a guest Old Man Jiu valued; the Chief speaking like that would surely make him uncomfortable. She offered a smile and said, “It’s not City S. Since we alerted the zombies, they won’t settle down for a week or two. We’re going to trade dried fish for fuel.”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s interest was piqued. “Since I have nothing better to do, why don’t you take me along?”

Trading dried fish for fuel? That was new. And hadn’t they said before they wanted to use gold to trade for fuel? Now they were using dried fish… there seemed to be some contradiction or conflict there.

Chapter 320: They Will Change Their Minds

When Zhou Yuanqiang made his request, Shui Mulian’s heart swelled with a sense of triumph that went without saying.

He had already provoked her pride, and her impression of him was abysmal. How could she possibly agree to this bastard’s request? Without a second thought, she replied frostily, “Coming with us isn’t impossible, but you’ll have to swim in the sea and follow behind the destroyer. You should know… there isn’t a single spot left for another person on our ship.”

A destroyer with a crew of over two hundred and a displacement of six thousand tons—how could it not have space for one more person?

Zhou Yuanqiang finally realized the truth behind the saying: Of all people, only women and petty men are difficult to handle. He had truly learned his lesson today. He didn’t push it, instead saying indifferently, “If there’s no room, then never mind. I’ll go back to sleep. You all carry on.”

Shui Mulian had been fantasizing about Zhou Yuanqiang begging her, but when she saw him turn to leave after finishing his sentence, her frustration spiked. She gritted her teeth in annoyance and vented her anger on the men hauling the cargo. The unlucky men were practically in tears. You two are the ones bickering, what does it have to do with us? We’ve been carrying cargo this whole time!

The dried fish and prepared coconut meat weren’t many, and the loading was finished in a few moments. Under Shui Mulian’s command, the destroyer soon left the port and steered toward the open sea.

This time, the direction was no longer southwest toward City S, but east, heading toward the center of the Pacific Ocean.

Zhou Yuanqiang stayed atop the superstructure, looking at the destroyer’s antennas and the non-functional radar. He rubbed his chin, wondering if he should make a move now to take those things. With his abilities, boarding the destroyer silently would be effortless.

After some thought, he eventually abandoned the tempting idea. He climbed up to the crow’s nest and, with a wave of his hand, pulled out a seven-colored flag of the Commercial Association. He mounted it into the flag slot on the lookout tower, letting the banner of the Commercial Association flutter over the Pacific. Although it was a self-indulgent gesture, watching the seven-colored flag snapping in the sea breeze gave Zhou Yuanqiang an indescribable sense of excitement.

Coming down from the lookout tower, he walked to the missile launchers on the deck. Zhou Yuanqiang touched them with his hand, sensing the lethal missiles inside that could make one tremble.

“These idiots are really wasting this. With a destroyer like this, at least this stretch of sea should belong to them. And yet here they are, obediently using dried fish to trade for fuel. Do they think this destroyer is just a wooden raft?”

Zhou Yuanqiang muttered to himself. If it were him, he would at least use it to scare the life out of everyone else. If they still refused to obey, as long as he had veteran sailors, there would be no problem using the ship’s cannons. In that case, getting fuel would be a simple matter.

When Zhou Yuanqiang stepped into the bridge, everyone inside was dumbstruck, several of them wondering if they were seeing a ghost. This living man had clearly been seen leaving, and no one had seen him board the ship when they departed. How could he suddenly appear on board now?

“Could it be that he really swam behind the destroyer and caught up?”

That ridiculous thought was just a fleeting one. Shui Mulian even cried out in surprise, “How did you get on board?”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled. He walked over to the spot where he had stayed the day before and, without explaining, said, “You wouldn’t throw me into the sea now, would you?”

Shui Mulian bit her lip and turned her head away, ignoring him.

Zhou Yuanqiang truly didn’t know their destination. He just kept muttering to himself. Shouldn’t trading for fuel be done toward the mainland? Instead, they were heading further into the deep ocean.

The suspense didn’t last long before the answer was revealed.

In the far distance, a towering offshore oil well appeared. A burning flare pipe indicated it was currently operational. Beside it, a massive hundred-thousand-ton oil tanker was docked steadily against the rig. Even more surprisingly, next to the tanker, a thirty-thousand-ton flat-top vessel had been converted into a refinery.

As they got closer, dozens of ships of various sizes could be seen patrolling around the oil well.

Zhou Yuanqiang secretly took out his binoculars. On the oil well, defensive platforms had been welded into tower shapes. There were many sentries on the rig, but even more workers.

The appearance of the destroyer, despite being far off, had already caught the other party’s attention. Several speedboats led the charge, rushing toward the destroyer.

Shui Mulian was well-acquainted with this situation. She had someone signal their identity using flags. However, this time was unexpected. Even after seeing the flag signals, the other party didn’t stop. They charged forward, surrounding the destroyer and circling it.

This anomaly was something Shui Mulian and her crew hadn’t anticipated. They sent someone to the rail to shout, and the other party quickly pointed to the seven-colored umbrella flag on the mast. When the report reached her, Shui Mulian was furious. She scanned the people present, glared at Zhou Yuanqiang, and roared, “You bastard! Did you put that damn flag up there?”

Zhou Yuanqiang frowned and said, “Yes, but it’s not a ‘damn flag.’ It represents protection and peace… not that you’d understand.”

Shui Mulian let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Protection and peace? Do you even know what world we’re living in? Besides, I don’t need to understand. All I know is that by hanging that flag, if it weren’t for our past relationship, their torpedoes would be headed our way right now instead of them just circling us. You didn’t bring protection; you’ve brought us all to the brink of death.”

After the seven-colored umbrella flag was taken down, one of the speedboats pulled alongside. Several armed men boarded the deck, shouting orders.

These men were dressed poorly, without uniforms or special insignias, looking just like pirates. Perhaps because the destroyer had visited several times, and after some explanation, the other party stopped being suspicious. They waved them through, and the destroyer proceeded toward the oil well, escorted by the other speedboats.

Only when they were close did Zhou Yuanqiang realize the sheer scale of the oil well. When the six-thousand-ton destroyer docked beside it, it looked small and insignificant, like a person standing at the feet of a Giant Zombie.

As the destroyer docked, the muzzles of the guns on the defensive platforms were aimed directly at it. A specialized team emerged from the buildings on the oil well. Their leader was a strong man in his forties. Upon seeing Shui Mulian and her crew, he suddenly burst into loud laughter. “I didn’t expect us to meet again so soon. So, did you bring the gold?”

Shui Mulian’s demeanor became even colder as she said flatly, “Xu Zihua, there is no gold. We only brought dried fish.”

Hearing this, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but admire the woman’s nerve. You’re here to beg for a favor, and you’re using such a frigid tone? Aren’t you just offending them? It’s a mystery if they’ll even give you the time of day. You’re acting like you’re the one in charge of the deal.

To Zhou Yuanqiang’s shock, the smile on Xu Zihua’s face didn’t change at all. He chuckled and said, “You know, in this world, women are like lambs—they can only obey men. But I admire your personality. There aren’t many people left in this apocalypse who can remain so stubborn.”

Shui Mulian remained moved, saying indifferently, “I only need an answer: trade or no trade.”

Xu Zihua made a clicking sound with his tongue. He glanced at the dried fish on the destroyer’s deck and said, “Are you joking? Dried fish for fuel? I told you long ago, I’m not short on food. I only want gold. Without gold, not even the gods themselves can get a drop of fuel from me.”

He rubbed his chin, staring at Shui Mulian with a grin. “It’s not that there isn’t another way. For example, if you agree to my condition from last time, fuel won’t be a problem at all.”

Shui Mulian trembled with rage and spat, “You’re shameless.”

Xu Zihua didn’t get angry. He said, “Lust and love are perfectly normal. You know, I used to be a poor kid from the lowest level of society, working myself to death on an oil rig all year round. I’ve always been curious about ‘high-class misses’ like you. Do you have one or two extra parts that make you so precious? Now that I have the chance, of course I want to take a good look, do some research…”

Zhou Yuanqiang almost laughed out loud. This guy was quite the character. He must have been the type to stare at women all day in the past. It was a wonder how he had gained power. Normally, a man like him in this position would just take what he wanted; Shui Mulian had no way to resist him.

Maybe this guy wanted to play hard to get?

Hearing Xu Zihua’s words, Shui Mulian’s voice turned even more ice-cold. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll blow up your oil well?”

Xu Zihua laughed loudly again. “You won’t, and you can’t. Fuel is the lifeline for this entire sea. If you destroy it, you’d better worry about everyone else hunting you down first. Besides, with that hollow shell of a destroyer that can’t even lay an egg, I doubt you could even beat my torpedo boats.”

Shui Mulian hardened her gaze. “And if I say I’m making the trade today no matter what?”

“And if I say it’s impossible?” Xu Zihua replied firmly. “Either agree to become my woman, or row that destroyer back to your island later. I’d like to see how a few dozen of you manage to row that giant thing.”

Shui Mulian said nothing, turned around, and returned to the destroyer.

As for Zhou Yuanqiang, he had already slipped back into the destroyer while they were talking. Then, utilizing his speed and spatial teleportation abilities, he silently entered the interior of the oil well. He swiped a set of work clothes from a steel building, put on a safety helmet, and applied a little makeup to his face. After altering his appearance, he headed deeper into the oil well.

The moment he realized Shui Mulian wouldn’t be able to get the fuel, Zhou Yuanqiang’s mind began to work.

After all, this destroyer was a vessel he had already mentally claimed, and it had even flown the seven-colored umbrella flag of the Commercial Association. It should naturally receive the association’s “protection,” shouldn’t it? As for this Xu guy who claimed they had more food than they could eat, Zhou Yuanqiang felt obligated to “help” them out. Perhaps they would change their minds and scramble to trade for dried fish after all.

There were at least two to three hundred armed personnel and workers on the oil well. The number of people on the refinery and the hundred-thousand-ton tanker was unknown, but there should be another one or two hundred.

To prevent infiltrators, security was high. Armed guards were everywhere, and with workers moving about, it was difficult for an outsider to blend in. However, Zhou Yuanqiang’s work clothes and helmet helped a lot, preventing him from being instantly exposed.

Since he didn’t know where the food was stored, Zhou Yuanqiang stood in front of a room and suddenly yanked a worker inside.

“Brother, cooperate a little. I want to ask you something. Whether you live or die depends on your performance.”

The man made muffled “wuu-wuu” sounds, his eyes flashing with terror as he nodded frantically. He must have watched enough police movies; he was very cooperative, which Zhou Yuanqiang appreciated. Zhou released his hand from the man’s mouth and asked, “Where is the food stored?”

“Go straight up from here, left at the third set of stairs, then up six floors. There’s a large warehouse; it’s all in there.”

The man was straightforward, spitting out the information quickly and accurately. Finally, he said pitifully, “You won’t kill me to keep me quiet, will you? I really don’t know anything. I came here looking for something and just fainted on my own. It must be because of long-term malnutrition and lack of rest.”

“Heh…” Zhou Yuanqiang laughed, impressed. “You’re a real talent.” With that, he obliged the man by knocking him out with a blow to the neck—just as he had said, he fainted from “malnutrition.”

Next, there wasn’t much to say. Following the instructions, he went straight up, left at the third stairs, and up six floors… and indeed found a large warehouse. The security was very weak, with only two men chatting and loafing around. Ultimately, they believed this place was absolutely secure and that no one could possibly reach it.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t need any complex plan. He used his speed to strike them both with the edge of his hand before they even noticed him, making them collapse gracefully.

The warehouse was actually converted from a row of worker housing, and the door wasn’t even locked, making things easy for Zhou Yuanqiang. After dragging the two unlucky guards inside, he looked at the mountain of grain bags. Zhou Yuanqiang let out a devious chuckle, rubbing his hands together. “Where’s the best place to start?”

He opened a bag at random. It contained dried kelp. Without a word, he tossed it into his storage space.

The food here was varied: large quantities of dried fish, potatoes, sweet potatoes, dried coconut meat, and a small amount of rice. Based on what he had seen on Shuimu Island, things like rice and sweet potatoes weren’t grown there, meaning there must be other survivors living on other islands.

For it to be considered “food they couldn’t finish,” there was naturally quite a lot. Zhou Yuanqiang’s storage space already had many things in it; after filling it halfway, it was at capacity.

Left with no choice, he teleported to modern-day Somalia, found an empty warehouse, dumped all the random goods there, and rushed back to the apocalypse to continue. He didn’t stop until their warehouse was completely empty. Only then did Zhou Yuanqiang leave the warehouse in high spirits, retracing his steps.

By the time he got back down, the destroyer was about to depart. Zhou Yuanqiang hurriedly stripped off the work clothes and helmet, threw them into his storage space, and shouted, “Hey, wait for me!”

As he rushed onto the deck, Guo Aimei walked over and scolded him, “Where did you run off to? This Xu Zihua isn’t someone to mess with. Don’t go wandering around, or you’ll lose your life.”

Zhou Yuanqiang just chuckled. When he entered the bridge, Shui Mulian was there, her face expressionless at his reappearance. She was very agitated. She had come out this time without Old Man Jiu’s permission, and she hadn’t managed to get any fuel. It was still uncertain if they would even be able to return to the island.

Have I really failed to adapt to this world? Am I still as naive as I used to be?

But thinking of Xu Zihua, Shui Mulian’s heart was in turmoil. She didn’t know if she should agree to his terms. Was sacrificing herself just for fuel really worth it? Was fuel the only way to change the island’s current plight so they could sail further and find a more ideal paradise?

“Actually, everyone, there’s no need to be depressed. I think they’ll definitely come back to beg us in a moment, crying and screaming for us to take their fuel in exchange for food.”

Seeing everyone’s low spirits, Zhou Yuanqiang spoke loudly. Ignoring their bewildered looks, he sat back in his original spot with a mysterious smile. “I used to study fortune-telling. I can predict a few things. Just listen to me.”

Shui Mulian flared up in anger. “You can predict things? Then why didn’t you predict the world turning out like this?”

“Of course I predicted it, but I was just one small person with no influence. No one would listen to me. Besides, we didn’t have spaceships or anything. Even if we knew, we couldn’t escape this fate.”

Bluffing, just keep bluffing… Zhou Yuanqiang’s stomach was practically hurting from holding back his laughter. He realized that life was still full of fun, or at least these past few days wouldn’t be boring. He had already found the island, so the mission was technically complete. Although no notification had appeared yet, he wasn’t worried. He was just here to understand the situation for future planning.

Naturally, no one believed Zhou Yuanqiang. They all looked at him as if he were insane.

The destroyer had been sailing back for about fifteen minutes, and the oil well was no longer visible on the surface. But just then, several speedboats appeared, cutting long white wakes through the water as they chased after the destroyer. Facing these boats, which were three times faster than the destroyer, they were overtaken in minutes.

Shui Mulian thought they were coming to attack and was incredibly tense. This destroyer was just an empty shell. But to her surprise, the other party approached flying a white flag. As soon as they got close, they shouted, “Is that trade for dried fish still on? We’ll trade with you! We’ll take all the food you brought!”

Hearing this, everyone’s mouths dropped open… filled with absolute disbelief!

Chapter 321: Shark Swarms and Anti-ship Missiles

Xu Zihua was currently in a state that could only be described as exasperated and livid. He stared wide-eyed at the empty grain warehouse, unable to believe his own eyes. The warehouse, which had been brimming with grain just moments ago, had vanished into thin air without a sound. Out here on the vast, open ocean, grain was the very definition of survival.

“Speak! What the hell is going on? Who can tell me what happened here?”

Xu Zihua’s roar drowned out the sound of the waves. His subordinates all trembled; no one dared to breathe heavily, fearing their enraged leader might toss them into the sea. Below the oil well, one could always spot infected sharks circling in the water…

“Wake those two idiots up!”

A quick-witted subordinate immediately hauled up a bucket of seawater and splashed it directly onto the two unconscious, unlucky guards before retreating to the side.

As the icy seawater hit them, the two men shuddered and opened their eyes. The concussion had short-circuited their brains, leaving them momentarily unresponsive. Seeing a group of people surrounding them, they asked blankly, “What are you all looking at?”

Before the words had even fully left their mouths, Xu Zihua’s heavy boot slammed into one of them, sending him sprawling. “Idiots! Look at how you’ve guarded the warehouse!”

Seeing their fuming leader, the two finally realized they were in deep trouble. When they turned to see the empty warehouse, their vision went dark, and they nearly fainted again. No matter how stupid they were, they understood that the grain in the warehouse was gone. Otherwise, why would the boss be this furious?

Xu Zihua knew that now was not the time for blame. “Tell me, where is the grain? What the hell happened?”

The two poor souls had been chatting and joking when their necks suddenly went numb, and they had plunged into darkness. How could they possibly know what had happened? Facing their enraged leader, they stammered and stuttered, unable to provide any explanation.

“You’re going to be the death of me! Infuriating!” Xu Zihua was no refined gentleman. Before the apocalypse, he had been an ordinary oil well worker with a violent streak. Seeing them hesitate, he roared, “Throw them into the sea! I have no use for useless trash like this.”

The faces of the two guards turned ashen. They knelt before Xu Zihua, begging loudly for mercy.

Six burly men surrounded them, completely ignoring their pleas. They hoisted them up, carried them to the edge, and with a coordinated heave, tossed them both into the water below.

With two loud splashes, the men hit the water and surfaced moments later, frantically begging for their lives as they swam toward the steel pillars supporting the oil well. But a white wake suddenly cut through the water not far away, reaching them in the blink of an eye.

With a massive spray of water, a shark with pale, peeling skin and rotting flesh surfaced, its jaws agape. With lightning speed, it lunged at one of the men.

A blood-curdling scream was cut short. The mutated shark used its massive jaws to snap the man in half, staining a patch of the sea red. The other half of the body writhed as the man’s hands desperately clawed at the water. But soon, the infected shark reappeared, dragging the blood-spraying torso down into the depths.

Terrified, the other man froze for a moment before becoming hysterical. “Help! Help me! Boss, save me! Help!” He swam with all his might, hoping to escape the horrific killer in the water.

To an infected shark, whose abilities were several times greater than a normal shark, they were the absolute tyrants of the sea. Anything that fell into the water was food. The man’s frantic cries received no response from the people above; instead, a pair of jaws abruptly appeared, biting him in two. Amidst the tearing and biting, his life faded away…

The people above watched this scene unfold. Some found it entertaining, while others couldn’t bear to look.

Xu Zihua felt no remorse for killing the two men. He ordered, “Get ready to salvage the sharks that are about to be killed. Also, notify the patrol. Tell them to bring that bitch back—tell her I’m willing to trade fuel for their dried fish.”

On the receiving the order, his men jumped into action.

Having lived on this oil well for over a decade, Xu Zihua knew the conditions of these waters well. The blood of those two unlucky souls would surely attract many normal sharks. And with that “mad dog” of an infected shark present, a conflict would inevitably break out between the two groups of the same species with different habits.

Xu Zihua had witnessed the ferocity of the infected sharks. For normal sharks to kill one, they would have to sacrifice at least five or six of their own. Those five or six fallen sharks would be their food for the next few days. If preserved well, it might even last them half a month.

“I hope those two idiots died with some value.”

Just as Xu Zihua expected, the blood in the water gradually thinned, and the area regained a semblance of calm. However, two or three minutes later, over a dozen sharks appeared beneath the oil well. Their incredibly keen sense of smell allowed them to detect the blood from a great distance.

Animals always possess an edge over humans when it came to sensing danger. As soon as these dozen sharks entered the area, they immediately sensed a threat.

The appearance of the infected shark signaled the formal start of the battle. It lunged directly at the shark closest to it. The mindless aggression and direct, frantic nature of the zombies were perfectly reflected in the mutated shark.

Six and a half years into the apocalypse, the creatures of the ocean had also encountered these sharks that were of their kind but possessed different temperaments. Countless opponents had died in their maws. Gradually, these creatures had developed a sense of dread toward these mutated marine lifeforms, their instincts telling them to stay away.

A shark’s hunting skills were already formidable, but with its abilities enhanced several times over by mutation, the infected shark was truly terrifying. The normal shark it targeted was like a rookie just starting out in the Jianghu being stared down by a martial arts master; before it could even react, it was struck down with thunderous speed.

This shark’s soft underbelly was bitten by the mutated predator, and a large chunk was torn away in the struggle.

Its entrails spilled out, and blood dyed a large area of the sea, simultaneously stimulating the other sharks. Several normal sharks, smelling the blood, went into a frenzy and charged recklessly at the mutated shark.

A shark’s combat relied primarily on its mouth. In their mutual biting, the powerful jaw pressure meant that anything caught would have a large chunk torn off; if it didn’t die, it would be severely wounded. Therefore, they relied on who was faster and who could deliver the first fatal blow.

With its abilities boosted several times, the mutated shark’s speed and bite force were far beyond anything the normal sharks could match.

The shark it had struck with a fatal blow was still struggling in the water, not yet fully dead. Like a human zombie, the mutated shark locked onto its target and bit frantically. It completely ignored the normal sharks lunging from all sides, focused only on tearing its victim apart and dismantling it quickly.

The surrounding sharks were not polite either, opening their huge mouths to tear chunks of rotting flesh from the mutated shark’s body.

The defining characteristic of a zombie was the absence of pain receptors. Despite the other sharks’ biting—even as chunks of its own flesh fell away—the mutated shark did not react. Only after it had torn the target shark to shreds did it turn to engage the others in a chaotic brawl…

Blood became the theme song of the ocean. The dozen or so sharks, growing increasingly crazed, joined the fray. The fight was no longer limited to mutated versus normal; even the normal sharks began biting one another, turning the entire sea red. Water splashed and sprayed as they threshed, and the entire area seemed to boil.

In a mere ten minutes, a victor finally emerged from the chaotic melee.

The mutated shark’s rotting flesh had been stripped clean. What little meat remained on its skeleton drifted in the water, bobbing up and down before eventually sinking into the depths.

As for the normal sharks, only two or three of the dozen escaped unharmed. Seven or eight were floating belly-up, blood still flowing; some were motionless, while others still feebly twitched their tails. Even worse, two had been completely shredded into pieces, with chunks of meat drifting on the surface.

The people on the oil well grew pale as they witnessed this brutal slaughter.

“Salvage those sharks!”

Xu Zihua shouted. The scene just now had exceeded his expectations; he hadn’t thought the battle would be so tragic or that there would be so many sharks. Familiar with these waters, he knew the shark population was usually between twenty and thirty, which meant at least half of them had been lost beneath the oil well.

The more shark casualties there were, the more shark meat they could obtain.

Shark meat didn’t taste good, but when grain was scarce, filling one’s belly was all that mattered. Who was he to complain? Furthermore, these seven or eight dead sharks meant shark fin was guaranteed, allowing him to enjoy himself for two or three months. The only pity was the lack of ingredients; the flavor of the shark fin would be quite ordinary.

At Xu Zihua’s command, those who were already prepared ran to the lowest level of the oil well. Using nets and hooks, they began salvaging the pieces of shark meat drifting on the surface.

As for the sharks that weren’t quite dead or were still mostly intact, they used the cranes on the oil well to hoist them up. Between the seven or eight sharks and the scraps of meat, there were at least several thousand kilograms of meat—enough for the hundreds of people on the oil well to eat for about a week.

At sea, fresh water was the most important resource, followed by food…

Xu Zihua was relieved that it was the food that had disappeared, not the water. If they lacked water, he would be forced to go to the nearby islands to trade for it. His greatest weakness was the lack of a large ship. The 100,000-ton oil tanker was filled with fuel processed by the refinery and could not leave the oil well’s defensive perimeter. Relying solely on motorboats meant they couldn’t travel far and their carrying capacity was low.

The entire oil well was a hive of activity. Armed personnel were busy butchering the dead sharks, cutting their meat into blocks. Meanwhile, the workers tended to the equipment, continuously extracting crude oil and sending it through the connected pipelines to the refinery to be processed into diesel, gasoline, and other residues. Once processed, it was transported into the various storage tanks of the large oil tanker for storage.

The destroyer came back into view forty minutes later.

Zhou Yuanqiang raised his binoculars and saw the massive sharks being butchered, turned into meat blocks weighing several dozen kilograms. Some people were responsible for cutting, while others transported the meat to the warehouse above. It seemed Xu Zihua had learned his lesson; he had stationed six extra men at the warehouse, all of whom were nervously looking around.

Even knowing the destroyer was an empty shell, its 6,000-ton displacement and the sharp, angular lines of its various weaponry were enough to cause anyone’s heart to skip a beat. As a nation’s most powerful surface force, it naturally commanded a representative and heavy aura of deterrence.

For these reasons, the oil well remained on high alert…

The destroyer kicked up a beautiful spray of water as it pulled alongside the oil well.

Just like before, Xu Zihua stood on the oil well with his men, looking down at the docked destroyer. The difference was that this time, the relationship between the two parties seemed to have shifted.

Shui Mulian stepped out of the bridge and, after disembarking, walked up to Xu Zihua. She said coldly, “I hear you want to trade for fuel again?”

Xu Zihua kept his smile, pointing toward the busy butchery not far away. “We just caught seven or eight sharks. I figured since we have the meat, it would be nice to have some dried fish to go with it.”

The excuse was a bit forced, but Shui Mulian and her group didn’t know the real reason. Seeing that the other party was willing to trade, they didn’t harbor much suspicion. She asked, “The same as before. We brought sixty crates of dried fish and twenty crates of coconut meat. You know the amount of fuel that buys.”

Xu Zihua feigned surprise. “Didn’t you know the price of fuel has gone up? The food you brought can only be exchanged for half the previous amount.”

“That’s impossible! You’re doubling the price just like that? At the very least, it must be three-quarters of the previous amount.”

Xu Zihua shrugged. “The only reason I agreed to trade for your dried fish is out of respect for you. I’m only accepting half the old rate. Take it or leave it; I won’t force you. I imagine after that return trip, you’re nearly out of fuel, aren’t you? I’ve calculated it. The fuel you’ll get is just enough to get this big guy back to your island. If you’re lucky, whatever is left might get you back here one more time.”

Shui Mulian knew that being out of fuel was their weakness, so she gritted her teeth and said, “Two-thirds!”

“No, half. That is my final offer. Furthermore, I promise to trade large amounts of fuel for grain and fresh water. You can head back and send them to me immediately.” Xu Zihua didn’t budge at all because he could see that Shui Mulian and the others clearly didn’t know the problem he was facing.

Faced with Xu Zihua’s firm stance and not being particularly skilled at haggling, Shui Mulian feared he might back out of the deal and was forced to agree.

If Xu Zihua really refused to trade, the destroyer wouldn’t be able to make it back to Shuimu Island. Because of this, Shui Mulian had no choice. These eighty crates of food would have been enough to feed the hundreds of people on Shuimu Island for some time, but now it was only enough for travel expenses. It was a complete waste of eighty crates of food—an utter failure of an exchange.

Once the dried fish and coconut meat were unloaded from the destroyer, the ship started its main engines and moved closer to the 100,000-ton oil tanker.

A thick fuel hose was lowered from above and connected to the destroyer below. Once it was confirmed to be secure, shouting commenced, and the fueling began. The thick hose transferred the traded fuel in the blink of an eye. Truly, as Xu Zihua had said, it was just enough for the destroyer to return home and come back once more.

However, after the refueling was complete, the hose was not disconnected. It remained fixed in place.

Just as everyone was feeling confused, a line of men clutching rifles suddenly appeared along the side of the oil tanker. With a chorus of clacks, they aimed their weapons at the people on the destroyer’s deck below.

Xu Zihua’s head peeked out. His refined demeanor was gone, replaced by a contorted face as he roared, “Listen up! If you want to live, surrender now. Otherwise, you all die!”

Shui Mulian and her people were no pushovers. Their reflexes were very fast, and they immediately dove for cover. Shui Mulian shouted, “Xu Zihua, what is the meaning of this?”

Xu Zihua licked his lips. “The meaning? I don’t just want the people; I want the ship. You trash don’t deserve to own it. If it were mine, I would have used it to sweep across these waters long ago, conquering everyone. I wouldn’t be living like a scattered mess of people like we are today…”

“That’s impossible…”

In response to Shui Mulian’s answer, Xu Zihua simply waved his hand. One of his men began strafing the deck, sparks flying everywhere as bullets hit the plating. More importantly, some of the men were holding explosive satchels. If Shui Mulian and the others didn’t agree, they would drop them, and the blast would kill everyone huddled behind cover.

Zhou Yuanqiang had anticipated this from the beginning. Xu Zihua was a madman; how could he possibly resist the temptation of a destroyer?

While the two sides were in a standoff, Zhou Yuanqiang walked into the fire control room. He activated the control equipment and began typing rapidly. Lines of text scrolled across the computer screen, and indicator lights flickered on one by one. “Hmm, looks like those few million US dollars weren’t wasted. That foreigner really knew the fire control procedures for a destroyer of this class.”

Under Zhou Yuanqiang’s control, the anti-ship missile launchers, which had previously been dead silent, slowly opened their hatches. An anti-ship missile was revealed and pushed out, entering a ready-to-launch state.

“How… how is that possible? Isn’t it… isn’t it an empty shell?”

Xu Zihua screamed hysterically. Even Shui Mulian and her crew were shell-shocked; they had no idea how the missiles could suddenly be operational. What was even more unbelievable to them was the sudden eruption of fire and smoke from the launcher as an anti-ship missile roared into the air.

Chapter 322: Level 17

Of course, it was impossible to fire an anti-ship missile at a massive oil tanker right next to them. This hundred-thousand-ton behemoth was filled to the brim with fuel. If over half a ship’s worth of fuel exploded, did anyone expect the ant-sized destroyer alongside it to escape unscathed?

The target of the fired anti-ship missile was in the opposite direction. Trailing a long plume of fire, it would be a nightmare for any ship it hit.

Unfortunately, in the vast expanse of the sea, there was nothing there. Coupled with the fact that Zhou Yuanqiang had set it to fire randomly, this anti-ship missile was effectively a bystander; it was just passing through, vanishing into the sky in the blink of an eye, destined to land God knows where.

When a destroyer isn’t showing its power, you might think it’s just an empty shell and feel no fear. But once it bares its sharp teeth, you realize why it holds the position of the mainstay of surface vessels in modern navies.

No one was anything less than shocked by the awakening of the destroyer, though their feelings were vastly different.

Xu Zihua, needless to say, had only dared to move because he knew the destroyer lacked any firepower. Based on his understanding, besides the missiles being locked, cannons like the naval guns didn’t even have shells; it shouldn’t have been able to attack.

No one living in this part of the sea was indifferent toward this giant. Xu Zihua, in particular, being a man with vast amounts of fuel, craved it. He hoped to use his inexhaustible fuel to let this behemoth dominate these waters. If he could activate the destroyer’s missile system, who in this region could challenge him?

But now… watching the missile launchers turn toward the large tanker and aim at the oil well, he broke out in a cold sweat.

In the eyes of Shui Mulian and the others, only Old Man Jiu on the entire island had ever touched a destroyer. Their ability to operate it at all was thanks to his teaching. But even Old Man Jiu had no way to activate or use the destroyer’s missile system. The naval guns could have been used initially, but without supplies, they had long since exhausted their ammunition, leaving the destroyer an empty shell.

Yet now, the destroyer’s missile system had actually been activated. To have the disadvantage reversed at such a critical moment—how could Shui Mulian and the others not be excited?

Shui Mulian was no fool. Once she pieced it together, she immediately shouted, “Xu Zihua, if you don’t want to die, get your people away from us!” Seeing her advantage, she pressed on, “While the fuel pipes are still connected, fill us up. Otherwise, I’ll have someone turn your entire oil well into a giant, burning fireball.”

The naked threat left Xu Zihua furious, but he was helpless.

The current situation was indeed heavily stacked against him. Setting aside whether Shui Mulian was bluffing, the threat touched the very foundation of his survival. The oil well could certainly survive a single missile without collapsing, but after being hit, would it still be useful? It would just be a heap of iron and steel standing in the sea. If they attacked the tanker directly, those tons of fuel were enough to send everyone here to hell.

Xu Zihua knew that if the tanker exploded, they wouldn’t be able to escape either. But was it worth a life-and-death struggle over a bit of fuel? He didn’t have much of anything else, but he had fuel in abundance. Moreover, “a gentleman’s revenge is never too late even after ten years”—what did it matter if he let them go?

To be a regional hegemon, one needed a certain level of decisiveness.

Xu Zihua waved his hand and shouted, “Fill their tanks and let them go!” Having said that, he turned away, his face ashen, and disappeared over the edge of the tanker.

The sound of fuel flowing through the pipes echoed until the destroyer’s tanks were topped off and the pipes were retracted.

Once the destroyer was several nautical miles away from the oil well, everyone broke into wild cheers. This full tank of fuel was enough to power the destroyer for quite some time. Every single person felt a sense of awe and respect for Zhou Yuanqiang as he walked out of the fire control room. In their eyes, the thin and not-particularly-strong Zhou Yuanqiang now held a status equal to, or perhaps even exceeding, Old Man Jiu.

“How… how did you do it?”

A faint flush appeared on Shui Mulian’s face, likely from the intense excitement. She had never imagined things would take such a turn, and it was all thanks to Zhou Yuanqiang, whom she had previously looked down upon. For some reason, she suddenly realized this man was actually quite pleasant to look at. On closer inspection, he seemed to possess an aura that inspired confidence.

Zhou Yuanqiang remained his usual self as he casually returned to the command tower and said, “If you get familiar enough with it, you can do it too.”

Guo Aimei, like an excited young girl, said, “I’ve hated that Xu Zihua for a long time. Boss, how about we just take out the oil well…” She made a cutting gesture. Looking at her smiling face, one would never guess her words could send hundreds of people to their deaths.

Shui Mulian was also a bit tempted and looked toward Zhou Yuanqiang.

Destroy the oil well? Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head. Could they not see the importance of that well? Every ship sailing in these waters relied on fuel, which was why Xu Zihua could sit back and enjoy the fruits of everyone else’s labor.

If I were the one holding the oil well, I’d have been the hegemon of this sea long ago.

In truth, the importance of the oil well didn’t need Zhou Yuanqiang’s explanation; Shui Mulian and the others could figure it out for themselves. They were simply still stunned by the anti-ship missile and provoked by Xu Zihua’s earlier words. Once they calmed down, they wouldn’t think that way. If everyone wanted to destroy the well, it would have been gone long ago.

When they returned to Shuimu Island, they were like heroes returning from a successful campaign. Every person walked with their head held high, the previous gloom completely swept away.

Upon learning they had secured enough fuel, the entire island erupted in celebration. People ran to spread the news as if it were the New Year.

Only Zhou Yuanqiang watched all this with a detached gaze. Back in the Commercial Association, he would have felt excited and proud for the people. But after witnessing miracle after miracle and so many heart-pounding moments in the Commercial Association, he had long since become numb to it. Seeing their simple joy now, Zhou Yuanqiang merely responded with a smile.

The fuel on the destroyer wouldn’t actually all be used by the ship itself; half would be extracted for the fishing boats. This would increase fishing efficiency several times over.

In reality, the success this time was somewhat baffling to everyone, but the fact that Zhou Yuanqiang could control the missile system at the critical moment earned him the top credit. At dinner that night, the spread was lavish; almost everything edible on the island was brought out for him.

After a night of revelry, everyone was fast asleep by the early hours of the morning.

With his current status, Zhou Yuanqiang was no longer being monitored. Once he confirmed everyone was resting, he returned to modern Somalia. Since it was early evening there, he had people record a series of operations and passwords for the destroyer’s fire control system.

When he returned to the post-apocalyptic island, a bright moon hung high in the sky, and the heavens were filled with stars.

“The post-apocalyptic sky has returned to how it used to be. The sky is blue, the moon is bright… the sky is full of shining stars. You can’t see a night sky like this in the modern era.”

People always say that one misses home more during a full moon.

Zhou Yuanqiang finally experienced that longing. Regardless, Qingyuan City was his home in the apocalypse. He realized he had been away for nearly two weeks. Although it wasn’t a long time, on a lonely journey where there was no one to talk to, every minute felt eternal.

“It’s time to head back.”

Zhou Yuanqiang moved his consciousness into the ring. On the mission interface, he saw the green text representing a completed task, and the homesickness instantly vanished, replaced by a wide grin. His reinforced physique meant that even going without sleep for several days had little effect on him. On such a rare, starry night, he had no desire for sleep. He used his intent to press the confirm button to submit the mission.

The yellow bar representing the ring’s experience suddenly filled up, turned gray, then yellow again, then gray, then yellow—repeating several times before finally stopping on a gray bar. The experience indicator reset to 0%. However, the level indicator jumped from level fourteen to level seventeen.

Having never experienced consecutive level-ups before, the sudden three-level jump caused a surge in his abilities that felt like a hammer striking his chest. Every cell in his body contracted and then expanded. In that interval of contraction and expansion, a wave of power erupted, carrying a numbing sensation that caused Zhou Yuanqiang to slump onto the bed.

“Mmm… Ungh…”

His groans were a mix of pain and pleasure; anyone listening would have thought he was in the middle of a passionate struggle. Only Zhou Yuanqiang understood that this numbness was similar to the climax after a primal battle, but far more intense, coursing through his entire body.

Going from 42-times-strength to 51-times-strength—a ninefold increase—was indeed terrifying. it reinforced his muscles, bones, and every bodily function. Aside from not being able to fly, he was essentially no different from a Superman.

The numbness lasted only a few minutes before gradually fading. The explosive power surging within him made him ache to vent it. The reinforcement wasn’t just physical strength; it included other things like eyesight, hearing, reaction speed, and more. A ninefold increase brought a massive change, like being reborn. His perception of the world had reached another level.

His storage space—which previously held fuel tanks, attack helicopters, Sand Viper tanks, piles of gold, daily necessities, food, water, and large amounts of currency—had been full. However, with the doubling effect of three level-ups, these items now only occupied one-eighth of the total volume, leaving the interior looking empty.

For so many items to only take up an eighth of the space, the total capacity of nearly 90,000 cubic meters was staggering. It could fit at least twenty or thirty attack helicopters, enough to form a whole attack helicopter squadron. As for tanks, it would be even more impressive; fifty or sixty wouldn’t be a problem.

Storage space was different from a warehouse, an airfield, or a tank garage; items could be stacked in three dimensions, making true use of cubic volume. If he wished, with a thought, he could fill every nook and cranny to maximize utility.

A storage space roughly 43 meters in length, width, and height seemed massive, but it was still a long way from the dimensions Zhou Yuanqiang envisioned.

For instance, Zhou Yuanqiang wanted to be able to fit an airship. Compared to those behemoths over two or three hundred meters long, forty-odd meters was still a world away. Even ignoring those giants, strategic bombers with wing spans of 50 or 60 meters still wouldn’t fit. Otherwise, Zhou Yuanqiang wouldn’t mind looting a military base to grab a few for research.

Even looking at something closer, like the destroyer on the island, it was over 150 meters long. The storage space couldn’t fit that either.

“To have the capital to be arrogant and remain invincible in future wars, there’s still a long way to go. As the saying goes, the revolution has yet to succeed; comrades, we must continue to strive…”

Regardless, Zhou Yuanqiang was already salivating. If his storage space could eventually swallow a hundreds-of-meters-long airship with ease, anyone who became his enemy would probably cough up blood and die. The Reason was simple: as soon as hostilities were declared, he could use the storage space to sweep away all their tanks, airships, and warships. He wondered what kind of expressions they would have then.

Thinking of the Americans’ thirteen aircraft carrier battle groups, Zhou Yuanqiang had a wicked thought: if he stole all thirteen carrier groups, would the Americans stop blaming terrorist attacks and start blaming aliens?

Wiping the drool from his chin, Zhou Yuanqiang chuckled foolishly. Who knew how long it would take for the storage space to reach the level where it could fit those hundreds-of-meters-long giants. Although ring upgrade experience was calculated by percentage, the higher the ring’s level, the less experience missions gave, and the missions themselves became increasingly difficult. It was the same logic as leveling up in a game.

The ring generally produced a new skill at multiples of three. Level 15 should have yielded a new skill. Having leveled up consecutively past 15, Zhou Yuanqiang was extremely curious about what the level 15 skill would be.

At level 12, he had received Armor Art, which guaranteed his survival. It was the skill Zhou Yuanqiang considered the best value. With it, traversing oceans of zombies was no longer just a boast. Especially when paired with his terrifying strength, wielding a giant sword to cleave zombies in half was enough to make any man’s blood boil—truly a man’s work.

So, what exactly was the level 15 skill?

The answer presented itself as soon as Zhou Yuanqiang pulled up the skill information panel.

Healing Art: Increases self-healing ability by 500%. Each subsequent level increases healing ability by 100%. Current level: 1.

The description was very simple, so simple that Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t immediately grasp what “Healing Art” referred to. Healing ability? Zhou Yuanqiang was baffled. Since when did he have a healing ability? What was that even supposed to be?

After a moment’s thought, it suddenly clicked.

Healing ability was actually something every human possessed, regardless of status. It manifested in daily life through injuries—cuts, stabs, and so on. No matter how heavy the injury, the body’s natural self-healing would take effect. For a light injury, self-healing could stop bleeding, form a scab, grow new flesh, and eventually lead to complete healing within moments. For a severely injured person, the weak healing ability wouldn’t be as obvious; it would take a long time before you noticed it working.

Technically, even in people who were dying, their healing ability was still functioning.

It was just that a weak healing ability had limited impact on fatal wounds. Before it could repair anything, the person would already be dead. But what if that healing ability were increased tenfold or a hundredfold? The effect would be terrifying. You could imagine cutting yourself with a knife, and under a hundredfold healing speed, the wound would heal the instant the blade passed, leaving not even a trace. How shocking would that be?

Even for a fatal wound, a hundredfold healing ability could patch it up in an instant, restoring the body and ensuring you wouldn’t lose your life despite a heavy injury.

Of course, truly fatal injuries might still be beyond healing. Because of the importance of certain organs, once destroyed, no matter how fast the healing, life couldn’t be reclaimed. For example, if a bullet shattered a brain or if the main aorta were severed, even a celestial immortal couldn’t save you.

A 500% increase in healing ability meant Zhou Yuanqiang’s healing was five times that of a normal person.

Normally, a fivefold increase wouldn’t look like much. But that was based on the baseline of an ordinary person. Don’t forget, with Zhou Yuanqiang’s 51-times-strength level-up, his physique was countless times stronger than a normal person’s. His innate healing ability alone was probably over a dozen times that of an average human. Now, with a sudden fivefold boost, his healing ability was hundreds of times higher than a normal person’s. How terrifying was that?

Even more incredible was that the Healing Art had ten levels. Each level increased the original multiplier by one. At level ten, it would be a ten-times increase, for a total of fifteen times.

Just like Armor Art, once it reached max level, he would absolutely be more “super” than Superman.

While the skill was good—and would be a game-breaker for anyone else—it felt slightly redundant given how broken Armor Art was. With Armor Art active, getting injured was basically impossible. If he didn’t get hurt, why would he need healing?

However, Zhou Yuanqiang knew very well that every skill the ring provided so far had its specific use. It wouldn’t provide a useless skill for no reason; he likely just hadn’t grasped its deeper secrets yet.

In this world, there is no love without a cause, nor hate without a reason. Everything happens for a reason, and the Healing Art was no exception.

But what exactly was the reason for the Healing Art?

Chapter 323: Education

The azure ocean was missing the cry of seagulls, yet it remained breathtakingly beautiful.

The destroyer appeared along the coastline of City S, near a shore lined with coconut trees. Its draft of only about six meters allowed it to draw closer to the coast than most ships of its size.

A small boat was lowered from the destroyer, bobbing in the seawater. A rope secured it, ensuring it wouldn’t be swept away by the current. On the deck of the destroyer, a group of people gathered around Zhou Yuanqiang. Reluctance filled their eyes; none of them could understand why he would give up the safety of island life to return to a city fraught with peril.

“Do you really have to go?”

Shui Mulian’s tone was still icy, but Zhou Yuanqiang could hear a hint of longing and a unspoken plea for him to stay. Perhaps she was simply a woman who didn’t know how to express her feelings, but what could he do? The distance between the Commercial Association and the coast was still too great. It would be some time before they could meet again. Moreover, the operation of the Commercial Association required his presence. Being away for too long would be detrimental to its development.

Zhou Yuanqiang nodded and said, “Yes. I think life on the mainland suits me better.” He shared a hug with a few people he had gotten along with and, without saying much more, climbed down the rope into the small boat. After untying the securing line, he called out, “Take care, everyone. Perhaps we will meet again.”

With that, he pulled hard on the oars. The small boat moved away from the destroyer, heading toward the shore.

Though Zhou Yuanqiang spoke of meeting again, everyone standing on the destroyer knew it felt more like a final farewell. In this apocalyptic world, danger lurked everywhere. Aside from the islands in the ocean, where else could one find a sanctuary? This parting might well be the last time they ever saw him…

As if in a final salute, a seven-colored umbrella flag suddenly appeared on the destroyer. The central seven-colored umbrella fluttered grandly in the sea breeze.

Zhou Yuanqiang looked back at the waving flag and smiled. He thought silently to himself, “When we meet again, you will know what this flag truly represents. Under its rule, everyone will find protection and live a stable life. I hope you can all wait until the day we reunite.”

After reaching the shore, Zhou Yuanqiang looked back at the destroyer, which was only seventy or eighty meters away, and waved. Then, he plunged into the coconut grove lining the coast.

Once he was out of their sight, he found a small clearing. With a wave of his hand, an attack helicopter appeared. After he climbed into the cockpit and started the engine, the “vroom-vroom” sound soon filled the air. He slowly lifted off the ground, flew out of the grove, and appeared in the sky, soaring toward the destroyer one last time.

The seven-colored umbrella on the attack helicopter seemed to shimmer under the sunlight. The weapons mounted on it were a startling sight.

Shui Mulian and the others stared at the appearing attack helicopter and its seven-colored umbrella, then looked back at the flag hanging on the destroyer. Their mouths hung open as Zhou Yuanqiang piloted the helicopter, circling the destroyer several times before pulling up and rapidly flying away.

As he passed over City S, the skyscrapers reflected the sunlight, still exuding an air of past prosperity.

The streets were still teeming with zombies, tirelessly moving as they endured the passage of time. The presence of crystals provided them with infinite energy. Without human intervention to eliminate them, they would perhaps exist in the city forever.

The attack helicopter usually maintained a speed of about 200 kilometers per hour. Zhou Yuanqiang, wanting to avoid trouble, kept the helicopter at its maximum altitude as he flew toward the wasteland where Qingyuan City was located. Based on the time, he would return to Qingyuan City by nightfall, where he could enjoy a bath after his exhaustion.

Due to the high fuel consumption, he would need to stop and refuel at least four times to reach Qingyuan City, but for Zhou Yuanqiang, this was no issue at all.

Along the way, Zhou Yuanqiang reflected on everything he had seen, heard, and thought over the past two weeks—what was beneficial to the Commercial Association and what were its weaknesses.

The Commercial Association seemed incredibly powerful, but Zhou Yuanqiang knew this was entirely due to the changes he had brought. In other places, after six and a half years, people had only just managed to find their footing. Development was painfully slow due to a lack of materials and resources. They had no fighter jets or even decent heavy weaponry, generally relying on basic firearms to fight off zombies.

On Shuimu Island, there wasn’t even a shred of basic industry. Everything was manual labor. Their weapons were primarily Type 81 automatic rifles salvaged from the destroyer, followed by handcrafted improvised firearms. On the islands surrounding Shuimu Island, other humans existed as well. Most were people who had seized ships and fled to sea during the initial chaos; they lived primitive lives huddled on uninhabited islands.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s greatest realization on Shuimu Island was their state of regression. People lacked clothing and lived by the rhythm of the sun. Lacking tools and fertilizers, they could barely harvest enough grain to survive.

For the past several years, trade between the islands had been a primitive barter system, with grain being the most important commodity. Grain was the ultimate symbol of power among the islands. It was only in the past year, as grain reserves increased, that they began transitioning to using gold for trade.

For the islanders, these years had been a “stone age” existence for modern people.

The islands also had children and the elderly. After several years of stability, the birth rate was quite high. Many children born in the apocalypse were now three or four years old. Likely due to the environment, Zhou Yuanqiang saw them running around the islands naked, looking like wild children.

Some thirteen or fourteen-year-olds had to join the labor force early, struggling for survival just like the adults.

“In the past, they would be elementary or middle school students, enjoying school life, receiving their parents’ care, and living without a worry in the world. But now, they are like unguided urchins, thrust into heavy labor too early. Surely this will affect their physical development,” he muttered.

Suddenly, a thought struck him, causing his hand on the flight controls to jerk. The attack helicopter made a sharp turn, giving Zhou Yuanqiang a fright. He let out a sigh of relief only after leveling the aircraft back into a steady flight.

What he had just realized was that the situation within the Commercial Association was eerily similar to that of the islands.

In two and a half years of high-speed development, under the pressure of survival, all the strength of the Commercial Association had been poured into industrial expansion. Even though industry had picked up, the repeated zombie attacks meant the Association couldn’t afford to relax. Fighter jets, airships, and tanks rolled out of the factories and into active duty to fight the zombies.

Livelihood only came after industry. With the expansion of farmland and the two massive granaries of the Great Canyon and the Tianzhou Plain, the Commercial Association’s annual grain production was enough to sustain them for three years. They didn’t have to worry about food at all; in fact, they had large surpluses for export to other settlements.

However, the Commercial Association had overlooked a crucial link: education under its rule.

On the islands, they lacked the conditions for education. they had to farm constantly just to have enough to eat. They had no textbooks, no classrooms, no equipment… but did the Commercial Association not possess these things? With cities at their disposal, how many excellent schools were available for use? Why hadn’t the Association considered this?

Under the Association’s rule, there were also many children. Their ages varied—some born during the apocalypse, some before—but they shared one trait: they had received almost no education. Only some fifteen or sixteen-year-olds had received a few years of elementary schooling before the world ended. The problem was… would the skills from an elementary education be enough to support the future development of the Commercial Association?

The present belongs to adults, but the future belongs to the children.

This was a common sentiment, but if education didn’t keep up and knowledge was lacking, how could this generation feel at ease handing the future over to them?

The supreme tenet of the Commercial Association was to prepare for the future, yet they were doing the exact opposite regarding education. Without the cultivation and stockpiling of talent, where would the aircraft carrier that was the Commercial Association be steered in the future? Toward a better tomorrow, or into a vortex of destruction? Who could say?

“The issue of education cannot be ignored!”

By evening, he finally saw the shadow of the wasteland. Passing over the two Lifelines below, he could see the wall structures snaking like the Great Wall, with lights shining every few hundred meters. The depth of the territory had temporarily made these two Lifelines redundant, but the Commercial Association still stationed a small number of soldiers there as sentries.

Current military deployments were no longer limited to the Wasteland Military Base. The Air Force structure remained largely the same, with the Wasteland Military Base serving as the main headquarters, housing seventy percent of the Association’s air power. The Tianzhou Plain supported twenty percent, and Lenghu held ten percent, together forming the Association’s aerial defense system.

As for ground forces, in addition to the hundred thousand soldiers at the Wasteland Military Base, twenty thousand were stationed along the two Lifelines, ten thousand in each of the other three directions, and twenty thousand for the security of Qingyuan City. Fifty thousand were deployed at the Tianzhou Plain, and twenty thousand at Lenghu. This brought the Commercial Association’s Army to a scale of two hundred forty thousand—one-tenth of the total population, a terrifying military ratio.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s return was known only to the ministers. Since it was late at night, he didn’t disturb many people.

Of course, the likes of Ren Xinyun and Jiao’er were definitely among those “highly disturbed.” Since they were Zhou Yuanqiang’s women and he hadn’t had a release in over two weeks, no man could stand it, let alone someone with Zhou Yuanqiang’s incredible constitution. Modern Somalia didn’t lack women, but they weren’t his type, so he hadn’t been interested.

Thus, upon his return and after a bath, the fires of primal warfare were naturally ignited, only calming down after the two women had fainted several times.

The next day, Zhou Yuanqiang called a meeting of the ministers. The agenda was to hear about the changes and developments in the Commercial Association during his two-week absence. But what could really change in just two weeks? Naturally, the group mostly gathered to exchange work updates and strengthen interpersonal ties.

“Boss, where did you go to have your fun these past two weeks?”

In the Association, only Mu Gushan dared to joke with Zhou Yuanqiang like this. Others knew it was impossible for Zhou Yuanqiang to be idle, yet they lacked the courage to tease him.

Zhou Yuanqiang just smiled and said, “I did run into a girl, but she didn’t give me the time of day. Was I supposed to keep throwing myself at her cold shoulder?”

Mu Gushan retorted, “Boss, when men and women are battling in bed, don’t we usually spend our time throwing ourselves at their ‘cold’ parts?”

“…”

Zhou Yuanqiang coughed a few times, tapped the table, and said seriously, “Alright everyone, I called you here today for another matter: the education issue of our Commercial Association. It’s time to resolve it. I don’t want the children under our rule to be a bunch of illiterates. We aren’t some feudal society obsessed only with the right to rule. For the Association to develop, it requires the hard work of the next generation and every generation after them, not just ours.”

The ministers, who had been chatting among themselves, sat up straight and listened intently as soon as Zhou Yuanqiang spoke.

Regarding the education issue Zhou Yuanqiang proposed, many present had actually thought about it. However, the heavy workload of their respective departments combined with the intermittent zombie attacks had left everyone frazzled, naturally leading them to overlook education. Now that Zhou Yuanqiang had brought it up, no one would oppose it, because the current Commercial Association was fully capable of bearing the costs of education.

Since the proposal passed unanimously, the next discussion was about establishing a Ministry of Education, as well as compiling textbooks and selecting school sites.

Half of the people present were from military backgrounds, and their own educations didn’t necessarily qualify them to understand the intricacies of educational policy. Zhou Yuanqiang himself didn’t know much about it either, so the ministerial meeting only produced a general framework; no one could handle the finer details.

As the saying goes, give the job to the person who knows how to do it. A good Minister of Education would play a monumental role.

Once the meeting ended, the Human Resources Department immediately set out to find a suitable candidate for the position. With their modern record-keeping and registered information, the search wasn’t difficult. Within a few days, after screening a vast number of people with backgrounds in education, they identified three top candidates and placed their files on Zhou Yuanqiang’s desk.

Zhou Yuanqiang reviewed their experiences. The three were essentially equal. Adhering to the principle of “the more the merrier,” he made his decision with a flourish: he appointed one as the Minister and the other two as Deputy Ministers. They would jointly form the Ministry of Education for the Commercial Association, construct the entire educational system, and find a teaching method suitable for the apocalypse.

Jiang Heshan, the one appointed as Minister among the three, had no idea this was coming. At sixty-one years old, he currently only did whatever work he was physically capable of, spending most of his time collecting large quantities of books. In his words, he was “preserving the spark of human civilization.” Having been the Vice President of Qingyuan University in his earlier years, he had spent his life in education and had countless former students scattered everywhere.

Unfortunately, with the arrival of the apocalypse, everything had changed. If not for his status and the respect people held for him, a man of his age would have likely perished long ago. How could he have lived such a stable life now? Having suffered much over the past few years, the sixty-one-year-old man looked much older than his age.

On this particular morning, he was sitting in a chair in his courtyard as per his habit, reading the day’s Commercial Association Gazette. For Jiang Heshan, this was just another ordinary morning—or it would have been, if not for the arrival of three fully armed military police.

“What do you want?”

Although Jiang Heshan knew the Association’s discipline was very strict and the military police wouldn’t be deployed unless someone had committed a crime, the question burst out of him instinctively. He racked his brain, certain he hadn’t done anything wrong. Why would the military police be here? Even if he had made a mistake, as an ordinary citizen, shouldn’t it be the regular police?

“Are you Jiang Heshan?”

A simple question, but it made Jiang Heshan even more nervous. He replied, “Yes, I am Jiang Heshan!”

The leading military police captain took an order from his pocket and handed it to Jiang Heshan, saying, “By the Chairman’s supreme command, please accept your appointment as the Minister of the newly established Ministry of Education. We hope you will contribute to the educational cause of the Commercial Association.”

Education… education…

The appearance of these two words left Jiang Heshan dazed. Tears actually began to fall from his eyes. Six and a half years. What talk had there been of education? What education had there been? For a man who had dedicated his entire life to the field, an apocalypse without education was a profound tragedy.

Now, faced with this sudden appointment and the establishment of the Ministry of Education, how could Jiang Heshan—a man who had given his life to teaching—possibly refuse his greatest dream in this broken world: to restore education and let the children return to school?

With the appointment of the Minister and Deputy Ministers, the newly formed Ministry of Education began its work.

Chapter 324: Have You Eaten Meat?

The world seemed to have become peaceful starting in November, and it remained so even after the New Year had passed.

Time flowed by quietly in its mundanity. Everything was changing, yet it also felt as if nothing had changed at all. People lived their lives much like before: waking up early to get some exercise, eating deep-fried dough sticks, tofu pudding, soy milk, or sweet cakes for breakfast. Once fed, they would head home to change into clean clothes and go to work in factories or the fields, just as they always did.

Life was a continuous cycle, seemingly eternal and unchanging.

However, many quiet shifts were beginning to impact their lives. For instance, the lifting of the ban on private vehicles was the most bustling and talked-about event following the New Year. No matter your status, a car was forever one of life’s greatest aspirations. Everyone dreamed of owning a vehicle and the freedom of movement it provided.

The establishment of the second branch in Lenghu signaled that the Commercial Association no longer had to worry about oil. With the dual guarantee of transport airships and railway transport, there was no longer any need to fret over the supply of fuel.

In the early days, starting from the Corridor Streets of the wilderness settlement, the Association had invested in public buses to provide convenient travel for the people. But following the relocation to Qingyuan City and the influx of an even larger population, buses could no longer meet the demand. Squeezing onto a bus became a hallmark of life within the Commercial Association; even the later-reclaimed Tianzhou City faced the same issue.

As soon as morning arrived, those who worked further away would wake up early, striving to catch the first bus. Those who were even slightly slower would hit the peak commute hours. No fewer than two or three hundred people would gather at any given bus station, gazing longingly toward the road, waiting for a bus to arrive.

Yet, every time a bus pulled up to the stop, the people would find that there wasn’t even enough room inside for another person to stand.

Faced with this inconvenience, the only solution the Commercial Association’s Transport Department could offer was to deploy more buses. However, flooding the streets with buses only addressed the symptoms, not the root cause. It merely mitigated the problem; people were still cramming onto buses, and tardiness due to transportation issues was a frequent occurrence.

The Transport Department had reported this issue to the Commercial Association multiple times, but burdened by a fuel shortage that couldn’t even fully guarantee military needs, how could they possibly allocate it to civilian livelihoods?

Now that Lenghu had begun supplying fuel to the Commercial Association, the most enthusiastic party was the Transport Department. They filed applications almost every day regarding the use of cars. For a rapidly developing city, inconvenient transportation would significantly weaken efficiency. A day or two might not matter, but over time, it represented a massive loss and waste.

The Commercial Association debated the allowance of private vehicles for several months. Ultimately, it was only after military fuel reserves were completed that the council passed the motion for a formal lifting of the ban.

The number of vehicles held by the Commercial Association was vast, far exceeding anyone’s imagination. On average, the people under the Association’s rule could have been guaranteed two cars per household. However, for the sake of regulatory management and to control the impact on the social structure, cars were not simply handed out. Instead, people had to purchase them from the Association.

In the past, cars were absolute luxury items, but under the Commercial Association—following the standards of the old United States—a working-class family needed only three to five months’ salary to own a decent vehicle. Of course, these cars were all seventy to eighty percent new, salvaged from the old world.

With such a low barrier to entry, it was natural that in a short time, the car dealerships established by the Commercial Association became the most crowded places in the city. Passionate crowds flocked to the dealerships to pick out their favorite models.

With so many brands available, prices naturally varied based on the name and the model. For example, the cheapest cars could be bought for just three or four hundred Seven-Colored Currency—about a month’s salary for an average worker. However, models like the BMW X-series were priced according to the specific model and its condition, with varying price points.

Similarly, the emergence of auto loan services meant that nearly every family could own a car. They no longer had to watch others drive while they stared longingly because they lacked the upfront cash.

Consequently, the streets that once saw only buses and Association vehicles were now filled with all kinds of cars, fully restoring the bustling urban appearance of the peaceful era. The sound of engines and the occasional honk of a horn became the city’s main melody, turning the once quiet city into a noisy, vibrant hub.

Qingyuan City, home to nearly two million people, combined with its expanded industrial zones and the vast, boundless farmland outside, was far more prosperous now than it had been before the apocalypse.

And cars were no longer the exclusive privilege of the wealthy; one didn’t have to save laboriously for years to afford one. At the very least, the Commercial Association had achieved what the previous government could not: making the car an ordinary household tool rather than a luxury item or a burden.

Thanks to the lifting of the car ban, the phenomenon of overcrowded buses vanished. However, the Association did not cancel the bus routes. Despite the low car prices, there were still families who didn’t own vehicles—not because of money, but due to personal preference. It was undeniable that even with private cars, buses remained the backbone of the city’s transportation.

Following the vehicle ban, travel restrictions between cities were also lifted, allowing for free movement.

Those with cars now had another choice: they could drive themselves. They no longer had to rely on long-distance buses or transport airships. They could treat it as a road trip, traveling by highway to the Tianzhou Plain or from the plain back to Qingyuan City. Air power and reconnaissance airships on 24-hour patrols ensured absolute safety within the territory, removing any fear of zombie attacks.

This change was monumental for the people, affecting every single person.

Other changes were also quietly underway, such as urban greening, an increase in functional government departments, more refined living facilities, and various welfare programs implemented by the Association. This signaled that the Commercial Association had fully stepped into the role of a governing body, beginning to transform its own functions.

Zhou Yuanqiang had founded the Yuanqiang Commercial Association in May of that year. Calculating it out, after this New Year, the Association was about to enter its third year of existence.

A lot can happen in three years. Many things had gone from non-existence to existence, and from existence to mass production. The Commercial Association had consistently dedicated itself to improving the lives of its people, striving to make their territory a paradise within the apocalypse. In fact, that was exactly what the Association was doing.

As February and March arrived, the wilderness experienced its rare rainy season. Occasional light drizzles appeared, and once in a while, a heavy downpour would wash over the entire city, rinsing away the dust of the wasteland and replenishing the underground rivers to provide an ample water supply.

By April, the cool weather brought by the rainy season changed abruptly. It became scorching hot, returning to the wilderness’s true face. This heat would peak in July and August. In a year, only February and March were truly cool; during the other ten months, the people living on the wasteland had to work and live under the blistering sun.

After the New Year, following the massive change of the car ban being lifted, the people finally welcomed another even greater transformation…

On an April morning, there was a light mist. The chill wasn’t heavy, but wearing only a single layer of clothing still made one feel the cold.

At this time, the sky was just barely turning grey. The clock pointed to 5:00 AM, and the alarm was already ringing, reminding the sleeping populace that the time they had set had arrived and they needed to get up.

Normally, people might have lingered in their warm beds for a while longer, but today was different. The moment the alarm rang, Wang Xiuhui jumped awake. She scrambled out of her nest and rushed into the bathroom to wash up. When She finished, she hurried back to the bedroom, making rustling sounds as she changed her clothes.

Before the apocalypse, Wang Xiuhui had just gotten married, entering the sanctuary of marriage after three years of dating.

However, with the arrival of the apocalypse, a family that had only known happiness for a few months was shattered by the disaster. After enduring several hard years, it wasn’t until the establishment of the Commercial Association that she found a new partner, formed her current family, and obtained an old courtyard house in an aged district when they moved to Qingyuan City.

Wang Xiuhui was very satisfied with her current life. Her husband, having suffered through hardships, knew how to cherish her. More joyfully, shortly after moving to the city, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, making them an enviable, happy family. Although the apocalypse technically still existed, it no longer affected life within the city.

Her husband woke up while she was changing. He checked on their eighteen-month-old son and, seeing him still fast asleep, felt relieved. He spoke with a hint of dissatisfaction, “You went to bed late last night and tossed and turned until three or four before finally sleeping. Now it’s only five and you’re already up. Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”

Wang Xiuhui smiled. Even with barely an hour of sleep, her spirits were incredibly high. She scolded playfully, “You don’t run the household, so you don’t know the cost of living. What do you know? Today is an important day. Give me the car keys; I need them today.”

“What important day?” her husband muttered. Seeing that Wang Xiuhui wouldn’t say, and being overcome by sleepiness, he didn’t think much further and lay back down.

Wang Xiuhui was delighted and didn’t care if her husband had fallen back asleep. She said, “When the time comes, you’ll know.” After getting ready, she took two fifty-denomination Seven-Colored Currency notes from the wardrobe, grabbed the car keys, kissed her sleeping son’s cheek, and hurried out the door.

In the past, when the sky was just turning grey, it was rare to see anyone on the streets besides cleaning crews.

But today was indeed a special day. As Wang Xiuhui drove her car out of the courtyard, the streets that should have been deserted were no less busy than during the day. Car after car drove through the streets, and even the sidewalks were filled with people in a hurry, yet their faces were full of joy.

“It seems there are quite a few people who thought as I did.”

She merged into the traffic, following the flow of vehicles toward a destination shared by everyone, turning the city into a sea of car lights. Wang Xiuhui knew this was just the beginning; later on, there would be even more people and cars. She felt a bit of regret now; had she known, she would have woken up even earlier, or perhaps not driven at all, as that might have been faster. With so many cars, walking was bound to be quicker.

If you were to look down on the entire city from high above, you would see cars flitting through the streets like fireflies, heading toward dozens of locations across Qingyuan City. These dozens of locations were spread throughout the city’s four major districts, distributed along various road segments.

It wasn’t just them who were up early; the police and traffic officers were also up at dawn, maintaining order and traffic flow, directing people on how to park their vehicles in an orderly fashion and line up to wait for these dozen or so business outlets to open.

Wang Xiuhui seemed to have good luck. She found a parking spot smoothly, and in the queue at this temporary outlet, there were only a hundred or so people ahead of her—an excellent position. Within moments of her standing there, a long dragon of a line had formed behind her, stretching far down the street.

Waiting in line was very taxing because these outlets didn’t open until 7:00 AM. Having woken at five, washed up, and arrived there, half an hour had passed, meaning she had to wait at least an hour and a half.

The April morning was still chilly, but the passionate people didn’t care. Once they were in line, whether they knew each other or not, they began to chat. This atmosphere was even more boisterous than a food market.

Amidst the patient waiting, the sky gradually brightened as everyone checked their watches. At just past 6:00 AM, small transport airships appeared in the sky. These small airships, which could only carry 15 tons, were dedicated to the city’s transport industry and were one of the Commercial Association’s most unique urban transport tools.

As the small transport airships appeared, the people below went wild, pointing at the sky and shouting, “They’re here! They’re here…”

Indeed, everyone went wild because something they had waited six and a half years for was finally becoming history today. The era of no meat in the apocalypse was coming to an end. What these small transport airships carried was the first batch of pork provided by the Commercial Association’s livestock farms, which had expanded to hundreds of thousands of pigs over two and a half years of development. It would completely change the meatless reality of the apocalypse.

The viral infection had killed most livestock and wild animals, and the few that weren’t killed had mutated, causing humanity to lose all sources of meat overnight. Wild animals were scarce and had long since fled deep into the mountains and forests; finding them was no easy task, let alone eating them.

When the Commercial Association was first established, Zhou Yuanqiang had proposed the grand plan of livestock farms. Even when grain was scarce, he dedicated efforts to breeding meat pigs. With the help of many explorers, they recaptured meat pigs that had somehow survived the apocalypse and began breeding them to increase the population in the farms.

The Commercial Association’s goals weren’t limited to pigs; they targeted all living animals. They established wildlife parks and various breeding institutions, meticulously caring for these animals, providing them with ideal living environments, and facilitating their reproduction.

In just two and a half years of massive development, the farms were continuously expanded, and the number of pigs grew exponentially until they reached the Association’s quota for slaughter. The first batch of pork was officially approved for sale.

Considering the scale of the farms, it was impossible to supply a city of nearly two million people every day, so meat would be provided once a week. For people who hadn’t tasted meat in years, the market launch of pork was massive news. Although once a week was somewhat difficult to endure, it was an incredible blessing compared to the last six and a half years.

People who received the news naturally lined up early in the morning, hoping to be closer to the front to buy the best cuts.

Since the first batch of pigs wasn’t huge, it couldn’t possibly satisfy the entire city’s needs. Furthermore, considering people hadn’t eaten meat in years and fearing deaths from overeating, every household had a prescribed ration. Being at the front didn’t mean you could buy more; it just meant you could choose better parts of the pig.

The small transport airships delivered the already slaughtered pigs, which were quickly laid out at the outlets and officially put up for sale.

With the Commercial Association’s laws in place, no one dared to rush forward. Instead, they waited patiently in line, moving forward slowly. Everyone was anxious, but if they were disqualified for shoving, it would be too late for tears. The Commercial Association’s law enforcement extended to the spiritual civilization of the citizens; even queuing was governed by regulations that constrained the people.

With only a hundred people ahead, it took only a short while before it was Wang Xiuhui’s turn. Without hesitation, she chose the fattest pieces of fatty meat.

In the old world, she wouldn’t have wanted a single scrap of fat. But in the apocalypse, after years without meat, what the whole family craved most was fat that would melt into oil. Just thinking about glistening fatty meat, stewed until it was so tender it would break if picked up with chopsticks, made Wang Xiuhui feel like she was going to drool.

The vast majority of people made the same choice she did. Consequently, those who were left with only lean meat looked pitiful. If the Commercial Association hadn’t temporarily distributed some bones to them to keep them happy, there would likely have been many more sighs of disappointment.

People who bought pork returned home in high spirits, beginning to meticulously plan how to cook the meat into their favorite dishes.

It could be said that on this day, the entire city was wafting with the thick aroma of meat. In an exaggerated sense, even the zombies hundreds of kilometers away went wild for several days because of this scent, though no one bothered to check if that rumor was true.

The people’s thirst for meat led the Commercial Association to expand the farms once again, aiming to build a super-farm with an annual production of a million pigs. They also set up another one on the Tianzhou Plain that could provide two million pigs a year. At the same time, they encouraged more private farming, hoping that pigs could become a superstar commodity for the Commercial Association, to be exported to other settlements.

For those who had tasted meat again, life seemed to have gained a new spark of anticipation: the weekly provision of meat.

Chapter 325: Before the Great Merger

Akih Lake was originally a pristine ecological lake. It had once been a sacred site for tourism and vacations, but now it shouldered the burden of providing water for the daily lives of hundreds of thousands of people in the Akih Lake Settlement—now renamed Akih Lake City. Furthermore, it irrigated the endless stretches of farmland nearby.

The Alliance was established here, making Akih Lake City the military, political, and economic center of the entire Lanxi Plateau, as well as the most populous settlement in the region. Its role held extraordinary significance for the Lanxi Plateau.

Similarly, as the most important import-export city on the plateau, it served as the primary trade hub connecting to the entire sphere of influence of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. Its throughput accounted for sixty percent of the Lanxi Plateau’s total, which was why it was established as the economic center. At the same time, it served as the most direct window of communication between the two powers.

Every day, countless goods were delivered to Akih Lake City by transport airships, then distributed to small and medium-sized settlements via ground transportation.

With the Lanxi Plateau as a designated region, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association had established three cargo transit cities. Ranking first was Akih Lake City. Next was Xishi City, followed by Yang’an City. On the map of the Lanxi Plateau, these three cities formed a triangular distribution, sending goods out to other settlements of various sizes.

After more than two years of trade development, a perfect process had long been established. Coupled with a unified distribution system, everything operated continuously like an assembly line.

The transport airships, appearing like scattered stars, had long since become an indispensable sight in the skies above Akih Lake City. With the increase in trade volume, the variety of goods was absolutely all-encompassing. From something as small as a screw to industrial equipment as large as a crane, everything was included in the Association’s trade shipments. As previously stated, the influence of the Seven-Colored Umbrella was ubiquitous throughout the Lanxi Plateau…

Your shoes, socks, clothes, underwear, and briefs were all printed with the Seven-Colored Umbrella trademark. Your household appliances, the pots and bowls you used, even your toothbrush and toothpaste—all bore the shadow of the Seven-Colored Umbrella. Even the grain produced on the Lanxi Plateau was processed and put into packaging branded with the Seven-Colored Umbrella. As soon as you saw that umbrella, you would naturally understand the meaning of “protection” and “peace” it represented. At the same time, you would think of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association and, indirectly, the image of the Chairman on the Seven-Colored Currency would float before your eyes.

A powerful commercial weapon, it penetrated every detail and every rhythm of life, influencing people at all times. They lived under the shade of the Seven-Colored Umbrella.

Over the course of a year, the circulation of Seven-Colored Currency had established its status as the official currency. Even if the Alliance had intended to issue its own currency, after an investigation, they could only give up in frustration. The Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s formidable commercial tactics were the weapons that guaranteed the currency’s status. Unknowingly, the entire economy of the Lanxi Plateau was completely controlled by the Association. If they wished, they could revert the entire Lanxi Plateau to a primitive society overnight…

Of course, saying so was a bit of an exaggeration. However, with countless shops in the Association’s hands—including the vast tracts of farmland they had acquired over two years through the exchange of goods—if they closed all the shops, the entire Lanxi Plateau would fall into chaos.

This was especially true for the industries that had developed through trade. Once the Yuanqiang Commercial Association cut off the supply of fuel and stopped the transmission of electricity from the crystal power plants, it would be an absolute catastrophe for the Lanxi Plateau’s fragile industrial system. Without fuel and power, did they expect those factory machines to run?

Storing fuel was simply impossible. The Yuanqiang Commercial Association enforced strict regulations on fuel delivery, verifying shipments based on industrial needs. After delivery, specialized personnel were responsible for monitoring the use and purpose of that specific batch of fuel to ensure it matched the verified data. Only when a batch of fuel was nearly exhausted would the next one be transported, provided there were no errors. If any discrepancies were found, the delivery would be immediately canceled, and the project would never be approved again.

The crystal power plants were even more critical pieces of equipment under the Association’s control. They were equipped with self-destruct functions, the tightest security measures, and the most complete defense systems. Under the control of the intelligent system, the entire crystal power plant was fully automated. Only during the monthly delivery of crystals were personnel allowed to enter a specific zone on the edge of the massive plant to replenish the supply.

At all other times, no living or moving object was permitted to approach the crystal power plant. Once captured by the intelligent system, the plant’s automated defense system would activate, destroying any intruding person or moving object.

The defense systems were so powerful that they could not be breached without employing a massive military force. Even if one managed to break through, it would be useless; the existence of the self-destruct system ensured the entire plant would be reduced to rubble, making it impossible to leak even a shred of the technical secrets.

Every one of these measures acted as a constraint on the Lanxi Plateau, shackling its development.

Far-sighted individuals had already realized the extent of the Association’s influence. It was foreseeable that as long as the Yuanqiang Commercial Association truly wished it, the Lanxi Plateau would be like a woman stripped naked, forced to submit to the overwhelming power of the Association with no way to resist.

Regardless of what the people at the top decided regarding this issue, it didn’t affect the ordinary people at the bottom of the Lanxi Plateau’s social ladder. They continued to busy themselves with making a living, either earning money through work or hunting crystals from the zombie swarms on the borders of the plateau to exchange for Seven-Colored Currency. Every person had their own life goals, which wouldn’t change due to external influences.

As a major import-export city, half of the hundreds of thousands of people living in Akih Lake City had already left agricultural labor behind. Some entered factories, while even more relied on the Association’s shops for work, moving goods at the airship ports, making deliveries… all of this combined to form a bustling trade city.

Because Akih Lake had only begun to develop rapidly due to trade, it somewhat resembled a city in a poor country, with clusters of low-slung houses filling the view. Some streets looked crooked and haphazardly built because there had been no unified planning at the start. Yet, paradoxically, these crooked streets in Akih Lake formed the busiest commercial areas, where the crowded flow of people guaranteed high consumer spending.

Walking down these streets gave one a sense of familiarity, as if being in a daytime night market.

The cities in Somalia were somewhat similar to Akih Lake—no high-rise buildings, naturally formed streets, and roads that were entirely dirt… If there were any differences, they would likely be in population and commerce. In Somalia, a few tens of thousands of people already constituted a large city. As for commerce, looking at such a large city with only a handful of shops in operation, one would understand whether it truly counted as commerce.

Compared to the urban prosperity of Qingyuan City, this place felt more like a city in Africa.

Zhou Yuanqiang arrived at Akih Lake aboard a transport airship. Aside from a few people, no one knew that the boss of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association had arrived. With his appearance altered, it was naturally impossible for anyone to recognize his identity. As for why he didn’t bring guards—given Zhou Yuanqiang’s terrifying personal strength, guards were an entirely unnecessary burden to him.

In truth, Zhou Yuanqiang had come alone this time primarily for a vacation. His secondary goal was to see if the “peach” that was the Lanxi Plateau was finally ripe and ready to be plucked.

If he used military force, Zhou Yuanqiang had reason to believe that with the Association’s immense military power, he could thoroughly conquer the entire Lanxi Plateau within a week. However, the Association had invested a great deal beforehand, deploying layers of “soft knives” specifically to resolve the Lanxi Plateau issue peacefully. Using military force was not what the Association wanted.

A peaceful resolution for the Lanxi Plateau wasn’t something that could be decided solely by the Alliance’s high-ranking officials; with multiple settlements involved, the will of the people had to be considered.

The Association wanted to absorb the Lanxi Plateau because of its massive population, which could be channeled into the factories the Association needed to fulfill its various plans. If a united populace on the Lanxi Plateau opposed the Association’s rule, it would prevent the Association from implementing more plans and expanding its massive war machine in a short period.

A forced marriage is never happy. While force could achieve the objective, it would lead to endless future troubles. One small mistake could trigger an uprising or riot. One only had to look at history to see the bloody lessons.

Mingling into the crowd, Zhou Yuanqiang looked ordinary in features and dress. No one could have imagined that this common man held the life and death of millions in his hands and decided whether a powerful war machine would be activated.

The streets here were lined with shops, and the moving figures of street vendors were everywhere. The Association’s strategy was successful; at least seventy percent of the shops in the entire Akih Lake City were under Association control, and the source of goods was directly in their hands, allowing them to dictate the economic direction of the city.

He bought a few skewers of taro balls. Fried in vegetable oil, they were golden-brown and emitted a dense, fragrant aroma. Biting into them, his mouth was filled with the scent of taro and the richness of the oil, which seemed almost ready to drip out. The snacks of the apocalypse were almost exclusively vegetarian but varied in type. As for meat snacks, aside from the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, they were likely impossible to find elsewhere.

He found a vegetarian noodle shop on the street side and looked at the long rows of cement benches. It felt like he had returned to his childhood, crouching on top of them to eat noodles.

It was hard to imagine that a large bowl of vegetarian noodles, topped with some vegetable oil, bean paste, and a small cluster of green vegetables, only cost three jiao in Seven-Colored Currency. Large in quantity and cheap in price, it attracted a lot of diners, all of them half-sitting or half-crouching on the cement benches, sweating as they ate.

With childhood memories in mind, Zhou Yuanqiang ordered a bowl. Mimicking his childhood self, he crouched on the bench and began to slurp away. Despite being vegetarian, the flavor was even more delicious than noodles with meat; he guessed it was likely some secret ancestral recipe. Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bit regretful—after this disaster, how many crafts had gone extinct, disappearing into the river of history?

What Zhou Yuanqiang was paying attention to was the people’s livelihood, so he naturally stayed alert to the words and actions of the ordinary citizens nearby.

The freedom of speech on the Lanxi Plateau meant that the people eating noodles had no qualms about discussing anything, from livelihoods to the military, the lifestyle and performance of officials, and even crude jokes. However, the most frequent topics were the movement of zombies on the edges of the Lanxi Plateau and issues regarding the products of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

Seeing that there was no information he needed yet, Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t in a hurry. After a few bites, he remarked casually, “We haven’t been distinct from that Yuanqiang Commercial Association for a long time now. How come we can’t enjoy their welfare benefits?”

The people chatting only glanced at the slurping Zhou Yuanqiang and didn’t think much of it. After all, it wasn’t news for people to complain about the Alliance’s poor welfare and envy the Association’s.

A thin, dark-skinned man who looked like the bachelor type—given the shortage of women, not everyone could form a family—wiped the oil from his mouth and said, “You don’t understand. What do you mean by ‘not distinct’? The Alliance is the Alliance, and the Yuanqiang Commercial Association is the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. They haven’t become one. What obligation do they have to provide us with welfare?”

“I think we might as well just join the Yuanqiang Commercial Association,” said an old man nearly fifty, puffing on tobacco and taking an occasional sip of noodle soup. “Look at the past two years. If not for the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, could we have lived such an affluent life? Without their large-scale farming machinery, everyone would be working themselves to death and might not even have enough to eat, let alone be eating these noodles today.”

A young man nearby laughed. “Old man, you’ve got your eyes on that social security benefit where they let you enjoy a pension at age fifty-five.”

The old man didn’t deny it; instead, his face glowed with satisfaction. “That’s right. I’ve lived my whole life, and at this age, I don’t have the drive of you young people anymore. I just want to be supported in my old age, to have someone to rely on. And you? Aren’t you also eyeing their benefits? In my view, it’s only a matter of time before the Yuanqiang Commercial Association annexes the Lanxi Plateau.”

A middle-aged man with a somewhat scholarly air sighed and pointed around. “The Association’s influence has already seeped into everything around us. Whether it’s what we eat, what we use, or what we see, we’re being influenced. Under these circumstances, in our hearts, we’ve long considered ourselves members of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.”

The young man from before said carelessly, “It’s a pity the Association refuses to let people from the Lanxi Plateau enter their territory. Otherwise, I’d really love to see what the Association actually looks like. I’ve only heard they’re very formidable, but exactly how formidable is quite vague.”

The middle-aged man carefully took a small poster out of his pocket and said, “I used to be a teacher. My family has been scholars for generations. My greatest dream is to be able to return to school and educate people. Look at this small poster. It was accidentally tucked into some goods when a transport airship came over, and I happened to find it.”

Hearing this, several people leaned their heads in to look.

The poster was actually a recruitment notice for teachers, hoping that capable people would take on the responsibility of education. It meant nothing to others, but for a former teacher like this man, the attraction was immense. This was exactly why he had kept the poster all this time.

“Civilization is progressing, while our Alliance was left far behind a long time ago,” the middle-aged man said. “Just look at the various measures taken by the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, and it’s not hard to see its grand ambitions. In my view, this young Chairman is absolutely a genius of the heavens, able to turn the tide in the apocalypse and build such a powerful force. Humanity might not be doomed after all.”

The old man tapped his pipe and said, “I don’t understand all that. I only know that as our Alliance stands now, we can only barely protect ourselves. As for reclaiming lost territory, don’t even think about it.” He finished his noodles in one gulp, set down three jiao, stood up shakily, and said blissfully, “Break it up, break it up. This isn’t something for us to worry about. I’m just waiting for the day I can enjoy that social security so I don’t have to keep struggling to live at my age. If this keeps up, these old bones of mine will break sooner or later.”

While this kind of topic wasn’t exactly forbidden, it was considered sensitive.

Especially now, the atmosphere throughout the Alliance seemed to have shifted. It felt strange and somewhat oppressive, as if some major event was about to happen. Although speech wasn’t a crime, who knew what the higher-ups were thinking? If someone was unlucky enough to be caught and charged, while they might not be executed, they would certainly suffer.

Because of this, the group didn’t dare talk further. They hurriedly finished their noodles, left their money, and went their separate ways.

Zhou Yuanqiang merely chuckled. After finishing his noodles and paying, he walked among the crowd, reflecting on their conversation. Thinking carefully, regarding the Association, half of them held a welcoming attitude. Of the remaining half, most were simply inclined to support whoever brought them benefits, while the rest were a group that simply went with the flow.

Among the various types, those who opposed the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s rule were almost non-existent.

As the middle-aged man had said, the Association had long since permeated every drop of the people’s lives. Many had already come to view themselves as part of the Association rather than the Alliance. It was this influence that was changing people’s mindsets, leading them to subconsciously accept the Association. When the time came, as long as they were included in the welfare system, what reason would they have to object?

Thinking of the people here, what they cared about most was still welfare. Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but laugh, murmuring to himself, “Welfare? The Association has plenty of that. But before that, I need to add a bit more fuel to the fire, to let them know that the Association’s welfare isn’t limited to just this.”

Stroking his chin, he began to imagine what the scene would be like if the people here knew the full extent of the welfare benefits enjoyed by those under the Association’s rule. Would it be madness, frustration, or a sense of longing?

Chapter 326: Chain Reaction

The Akih Lake air terminal was a scene of frantic activity. Massive transport airships, guided by navigation lights, slowly descended into their designated berths.

An air terminal and an airport were two different concepts for airship landings. Although the former was called a terminal, it was essentially a cargo transit station. It consisted of a series of enormous, numbered berths for airships to dock. In front of these berths ran a massive transport highway, where various types of trailers would tow the cargo from the ships to specific warehouses based on their invoice numbers. Usually, by the next day, these goods would be transported elsewhere, spreading across the entire Lanxi Plateau.

This was the busiest place in all of Akih Lake City. Day and night, transport airships arrived and departed, accompanied by the constant shouting of workers and the roar of engines; it was a place of incessant clamor.

As on any typical morning, the workers who had labored through the night were being replaced by the fresh morning shift. Having rested all night, the new arrivals stood in the cool morning breeze, gazing up at the sky as they awaited the arrival of the transport airships.

As a massive shadow cast itself over them, they knew there was work to be done.

Normally, people would have long since lost their sense of awe and curiosity toward these behemoth transport airships. However, the shadow cast this time was simply too vast—several times larger than any transport airship they had seen before. It felt as though the entire air terminal was being swallowed by its shade. How could it not attract the attention of everyone present?

The Hercules transport airship was an absolute milestone in the history of aeronautics. It was defined by its incredible carrying capacity and its massive surface area; it was an airship that pushed the limits of manufacturing. Its superior payload was unmatched by any other vessel. From the moment of its successful construction, it had become the titan of transport airships, possessing a powerful, silent deterrent force.

High operating costs were the Hercules’ primary drawback. Under normal circumstances, it served as a strategic transport vessel and was rarely deployed for standard logistics. This arrival at the Lanxi Plateau, landing in Akih Lake City, marked its first visit to the region. It was also the first time the people of the Lanxi Plateau had ever laid eyes on such a colossal, mind-boggling airship.

From the moment the Hercules appeared, Akih Lake City reached a boiling point. No one could help but feel stunned by such a gargantuan object. No matter where you were in the city, all you had to do was look up to see this titan of the sky. People could not fathom how such a monster had been built. Particularly striking was the seven-colored umbrella logo, which acted like a giant living advertisement, announcing its ownership and broadcasting the power that resided under the seven-colored umbrella.

When the Hercules finally landed, it occupied five full airship berths. Only after it was fully secured did the workers on the docks truly appreciate the sheer scale of the vessel.

Trailers began to cluster around the eight doors of the Hercules’ gondolas. Swarms of porters rushed forward, hauling out the fully loaded cargo bit by bit, transferring them into the freight containers of the trailers. Every worker present was intimately familiar with this process, but this time, the volume of cargo was overwhelming. There were so many different categories that they had to be extra careful to distinguish between the various types and item numbers.

“You bastards, be careful! This batch is all original brew from Qingyuan City. These are fragile goods! If you break even one bottle, your entire month’s salary is gone!”

An elderly foreman shouted at the top of his lungs, directing the porters who moved like ants, constantly reminding them what they were carrying. Porters scurried in and out of the eight doors. Though the morning on the plateau was cool, it couldn’t stop the sweat from pouring down their faces from the exertion, soaking their clothes in moments.

While they worked, there was generally no idle chatter; the atmosphere was quiet, save for the sounds of cargo being shifted and set down.

A sudden “thud” rang out. A porter in his fifties, his strength failing him, had fumbled the wooden crate he was carrying. It slammed heavily onto the ground with a dull thud.

The sound wasn’t particularly loud, but it struck like a thunderclap, causing all the nearby workers and supervisors to freeze.

The faces of the other porters showed a mix of pity and a bit of schadenfreude. The foremen’s faces, however, turned livid, their expressions surging with rage.

In the course of moving cargo at a place with a volume as high as the Akih Lake terminal, it was common for things to get broken. With the protection of a crate, a fall usually wouldn’t cause too much damage. If something truly was destroyed, the worker would simply have to accept their bad luck and pay for it to resolve the issue.

But the problem was that the foreman had just said a single bottle was worth a month’s wages. A crate of original brew contained twenty-four bottles. That was two years’ salary… how cruel was that for a porter? He would have to work for two years without eating or drinking to pay it back. Including his own expenses, he wouldn’t clear the debt for three or four years.

An overbearing foreman stepped forward, snarling, “Didn’t I tell you to be careful?”

Realizing the trouble he was in, the elderly porter panicked. “I… I… I didn’t mean to. I…”

Ignoring him, the foreman noticed that no fragrant liquor was leaking from the crate. Surprised, he pulled a crate-opening tool—standard issue for foremen—from his belt. Once he pried the wooden box open, he found it was filled with nothing but color-printed papers. As if mocking him, a gust of wind blew just as the crate opened, sending the colored papers fluttering everywhere in the breeze.

“This… what’s going on?”

Seeing that the cargo didn’t match the manifest, the foreman was startled. Having such a discrepancy happen under his watch, even if it wasn’t his fault, would still lead to complications. It was bound to be a headache.

As the colored papers flew about, some curious porters picked them up. They saw beautifully printed images of various exquisite dishes, and below them, information about the grand opening of a restaurant.

In the peaceful era, this kind of small advertisement was everywhere. You couldn’t walk down a street without having these kinds of flyer-style posters shoved into your hand. Specialty restaurants and hotels especially loved using these posters, printing their signature dishes and various discounts on them to grab people’s attention.

Unfortunately, the people of that era had become numb to them. In most cases, they would politely accept the flyer and drop it into the nearest trash can, or simply walk past the distributors without a second glance. They had zero interest in the ads, making the effective return on such marketing very low.

But… what era was this? This was the end times, an era of extreme material scarcity. For such a poster to appear now, it could not help but seize people’s attention. The images of dish after dish on the posters, combined with the low prices, were enough to make those who picked them up go wild.

If you asked them how long it had been since they had tasted meat, their answer would be: however many years it had been since the world ended.

Food is the people’s heaven. This showed just how central food was to the human heart. Over the past six and a half years, half that time had been spent struggling against starvation, and the other half living on meager, bland rations. Forget meat—even green vegetables were something most people could only afford once every few days because cooking oil was so expensive. In most cases, they survived on pickles. Life was incredibly harsh.

In everyone’s dreams at night, the most common sights weren’t beautiful women or wealth, but steaming plates of fragrant meat.

Now, suddenly seeing meat appear on an advertisement poster, the “hooks” in their stomachs went wild. Anyone who saw the meat dishes on the poster couldn’t tear their eyes away. Saliva began to pool unconsciously. Any thoughts of the cargo or their wages were tossed to the back of their minds as they fell into a deep fantasy.

As if to prove it was all real, the back of the restaurant advertisement was specially printed with a photo of a corner of a massive pig farm outside Qingyuan City. From that angle, one could see countless hogs that had reached market weight, standing in their pens.

Although the restaurant on the flyer was in Qingyuan City, the impact the flyers had on the air terminal was massive. Within just half an hour, everyone knew: in the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, people were living lives of terrifying abundance. They could live in the city and eat fatty, succulent meat.

An hour later, the rumors became even more exaggerated. It was being said that the people in the Yuanqiang Commercial Association had meat with every meal—chicken, duck, beef, lamb, and fish.

If you didn’t believe it, someone would triumphantly pull out a flyer and point to the dishes and the soon-to-open restaurant to prove the rumors were truer than pearls and extremely reliable.

There were six crates of these posters mixed in with the original brew. Two days later, it was discovered that a mistake had been made during the initial loading of the Hercules—the posters intended for a restaurant had been sent onto the ship by error. While the source of the loss was identified, they couldn’t exactly ship six crates of posters back to Qingyuan City; the fuel cost would be more than the cost of reprinting them. Under these circumstances, the restaurant simply abandoned the six crates.

The six crates were left in a corner of the terminal, and many people, coveting the fine printing, took a few sheets for themselves.

Within a single week, these posters—tempting the very core of human desire—spread to every corner of Akih Lake City. Everyone knew that in the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, there was meat to eat. Since they could supply restaurants indefinitely, they must have more meat than they could finish.

At first, it wasn’t much, just the word “meat” appearing constantly, stimulating people’s nerves and dredging up their memories of it. As if someone were pushing things along from the shadows, the word spread incredibly fast. People began to crave meat. They approached the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s local office or the airship crews, trying to see if they could buy any through them.

But the answer they received was that while meat did exist, it was not an export commodity. Under the current legal prohibitions, they were powerless to help.

Upon learning that meat was on the list of prohibited exports, some radicals began to shout slogans: “Why can’t we eat meat?” and “We want meat!” Gradually, a protest march of several hundred people formed.

As if catching a spark of memory, more and more angry people joined the march. It quickly grew from several hundred to several thousand, then to tens of thousands.

To get a taste of meat, many people even went on strike to join the protest. In just a few days, the marching column reached nearly a hundred thousand people. They choked every street, moving toward the district where the Alliance’s offices were located, chanting in unison: “We want meat! We want meat! Reject unequal treatment! Demand the removal of meat from the prohibited trade list!”

When the masses go mad, it is a terrifying thing. The entire police force of Akih Lake City was mobilized to maintain order in the march, while simultaneously protecting the properties belonging to the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, the military government headquarters, and the Akih Lake City government buildings. This upheaval effectively brought Akih Lake City to a total standstill.

The director of all this, Zhou Yuanqiang, stood inside a building along the street, watching the massive protest from a window.

From the arrival of the Hercules to the foreman and the porter, to the spreading of rumors, and even now to this massive protest—every bit of it had been calculated and orchestrated by Zhou Yuanqiang. All the personnel involved in this chain of events were deep-cover agents the Commercial Association had planted early on. They had lived here in various roles until today, when a small fraction of them were finally utilized.

Human desire is difficult to control. Once you release the desires locked within their hearts, things become irreversible.

The protesters, incited by the agents, had surrounded the Alliance military government and the Akih Lake government. At the same time, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s offices and several major shops were also surrounded. The people shouting for meat had transformed into “crusaders” fighting a “holy war” for their stomachs.

In the face of this development, the Alliance military government naturally put its soldiers on high alert to protect its headquarters. Simultaneously, they sent personnel to lash out at the Akih Lake government for allowing the protest to grow so large. On the other hand, they strictly ordered the Akih Lake government to immediately negotiate with the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s office to resolve this “meat-induced” chain reaction.

A protest of nearly a hundred thousand people was indeed beyond the Akih Lake government’s ability to control. It was like a giant bomb; if handled poorly, it would detonate.

Just how much destructive force did a hundred thousand people have? If things truly descended into chaos, the resulting consequences would include massive loss of life, destroyed shops, and burned-down buildings. Do not forget that the people of the end times had lived through a great disaster; their emotions fluctuated easily. No one could guarantee they wouldn’t do exactly those things.

A hastily formed temporary negotiation team soon pushed through the layers of protesters and entered the Akih Lake office of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

However, how could a local office handle a list of prohibited goods established by the Commercial Association’s headquarters? Consequently, the temporary negotiation team made zero progress, leaving everyone dripping with sweat from anxiety. Even their request for the office to issue a public statement was rejected.

Faced with the powerful Yuanqiang Commercial Association, the negotiation team could only swallow their bitterness. They didn’t dare utter a single word of threat.

Before coming, they had been told specifically not to anger the Commercial Association. If they offended them, the Association might reduce trade volume or stop the flow of vital resources. Such an outcome would undoubtedly be catastrophic for Akih Lake City and the Lanxi Plateau. Simply shutting down the power plants or halting the supply of fuel would be enough to bring Akih Lake City to its knees.

The office couldn’t shut the door on them completely, either. In the absence of long-distance communication, contact between the two parties relied on the arriving and departing transport airships. Thus, the answer given was that they would report the situation to headquarters; as for the headquarters’ decision, that was out of the local office’s hands.

With this result, the negotiation team breathed a sigh of relief. At least they had something to take back to show they had done their jobs.

On the first day, the protesters were still quite restrained, and they gradually dispersed as night fell. However, the rumors regarding meat continued to spread to the surrounding settlements. In just two days, every settlement on the Lanxi Plateau, large and small, knew about it: the Yuanqiang Commercial Association had massive amounts of meat, but the Alliance was preventing it from entering the Lanxi Plateau.

This completely distorted rumor made the Alliance feel quite uneasy. It was clearly the Yuanqiang Commercial Association that had the items on their prohibited list; how had it become about the Alliance blocking the meat?

Regardless of the Alliance’s reaction, the people in the various settlements below were starting to lose their patience. Their craving for meat made them irritable. Protest marches began to appear, surrounding settlement governments and demanding they file formal complaints with the Alliance, protesting their selfish disregard for the people.

Under the subtle incitement of certain individuals, even the most honest and simple-minded people joined the protests, collectively denouncing the Alliance’s “monopoly.”

Like an unstoppable whirlwind, dozens of settlements across the Lanxi Plateau became embroiled in the unrest, leading to unofficial strikes. Countless resources could not be shipped because there were no workers, piling up at the air terminals. This interrupted the supply chains between settlements, leading to total chaos, as if war were imminent.

As a result of this chain reaction, the once-stable population became frantic. Everyone grew agitated and uneasy. Robberies and arson in the settlements rose sharply, and incidents of shops being smashed occurred from time to time. Faint signs of a full-blown riot were beginning to emerge.

Once this result became clear, the Alliance military government—the highest authority on the Lanxi Plateau—could no longer sit still. They had initially thought it was a minor matter, but who could have known it would escalate to this point? If they delayed any longer, the situation would become entirely unmanageable. It was time for them to seek a negotiation with the Yuanqiang Commercial Association to resolve the issue of meat once and for all.

Chapter 327: The Negotiation Team

“A conspiracy, a blatant conspiracy…”

A hysterical roar echoed throughout the meeting room, so loud it made everyone’s eardrums ache. Many present thought maliciously: with the poor soundproofing of this room, would those outside be able to hear it too?

As the administrative heart of the Alliance, this area was guarded by an elite regiment from the Lanxi Plateau’s joint forces to ensure security. Every resolution of the Alliance was decided here, from which commands were issued to mobilize the Alliance’s five hundred thousand soldiers.

The Alliance was a unique entity. In the post-apocalyptic world, maintaining a high ratio of military personnel was common in every settlement. In some extreme cases, the ratio of soldiers to residents reached a terrifying one-to-three. Given the crisis of the end times, only a massive military force could provide enough strength to guard a settlement against the zombies.

Currently, dozens of representatives were gathered in the Alliance meeting room to discuss the crisis triggered by a recent chain reaction of events.

The current situation was extremely unfavorable for the Alliance. Public opinion seemed to be manipulated by a powerful force, with negative news constantly leaking out. Normally, such news would be insignificant, but in this climate, it was easily magnified and used as a basis to attack the Alliance.

In short, over the past week, the once-stable Lanxi Plateau had become as turbulent as a lake hit by a massive boulder.

The man who had just roared about a conspiracy was the Chairman of the Alliance and the actual leader of Xishi City, Zhou Haiming. He was a very capable middle-aged man in his forties. It was through his persistent lobbying that the Lanxi Plateau had finally entered the era of the Alliance, binding all the settlements together into a single group to face the repeated zombie onslaughts. It was his leadership that had kept the Lanxi Plateau standing under these skies.

It could be said that the Lanxi Plateau’s current state was inseparable from his efforts, which was why no one could challenge his position as the Chairman of the Alliance.

Of course, when choosing the location for the Alliance headquarters, there had been a divide. Zhou Haiming’s plan was to host it in Xishi City, which was under his control, but the other large settlements disagreed. After much debate, it was finally decided to place the Alliance headquarters at the Akih Lake Settlement. This moved the once unremarkable Akih Lake to the forefront, making it the military center of the Lanxi Plateau.

The Alliance Council was composed of one representative from each settlement stationed at Akih Lake. Usually, they lived quite leisurely, only entering a working state when something occurred. During times of war, once the Alliance decided whether to fight or retreat, military personnel would be drawn from various settlements to form a temporary Alliance military command center, capable of mobilizing all five hundred thousand soldiers under the collective settlements.

Today’s discussion was focused on the appearance of protest marches across various settlements and the grievances they expressed.

Everyone present knew that the root cause of the entire situation was the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. They even suspected that the Association was the one orchestrating everything from behind the scenes. However, this series of developments was filled with too many coincidences and inevitabilities. The Alliance’s Intelligence Department could not prove that the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was definitely pulling the strings.

Besides, if someone else had meat to eat, that was their business. The current problem was that the people were jealous and wanted meat too… Indirectly, didn’t this mean the Alliance was at the mercy of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association? Trade is a two-way street, but the Association was the source of the goods and held the Alliance’s economic lifeline. They had every right to decide what to embargo or ban from trading with the Lanxi Plateau.

Everyone understood Zhou Haiming’s roar; it was an expression of helplessness. But what could they do? The Yuanqiang Commercial Association was a powerful, unknown opponent. From the moment it appeared and used its formidable trade to force open the doors of the Lanxi Plateau, many had foreseen a crisis.

Specifically, with the issuance of the Seven-Colored Currency, those with foresight and an understanding of economics knew that the Alliance was like a giant tree while the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was like a woodworm. Sooner or later, it would hollow out the Alliance, plunging it into crisis. Any passing breeze could then knock the giant tree over.

“Chairman, what we should be thinking about now is how to get the Yuanqiang Commercial Association to lift the embargo on meat and allow it to enter the Alliance as a trade item.”

Akih Lake City was now the premier port of the entire Lanxi Plateau. Its status within the Alliance was even higher than that of Xishi City. Consequently, Hu Silin, the representative of Akih Lake City, held a status not much lower than Zhou Haiming’s and was quite a powerful representative.

As they say, wherever there are people, there is a Jianghu. Even the seemingly monolithic Alliance had its factions. For instance, there was Zhou Haiming’s faction, Hu Silin’s Akih Lake City faction, the Yang’an City faction, and a group of neutral settlements, forming four main factions.

Normally, there was no factional infighting within the Alliance Council. Council meetings were only held for major issues when the entire Alliance needed to present a united front. To engage in factional strife at such a time would be the mark of an idiot. In the post-apocalyptic world, unity was the only way to survive.

Hu Silin’s words did not upset Zhou Haiming. He sat back in the chairman’s seat, noted the expressions of every representative, and said, “The representative from Akih Lake is right. This meeting was called to discuss the feasibility of forming a negotiation team to go to the headquarters of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association for meat trade, and what price we need to pay to get them to agree.”

“Everyone knows the value of meat in this world. After six and a half years without it, that pain is enough to drive people mad. Therefore, meat holds an immense temptation for our Alliance—one we practically cannot refuse. It’s a temptation that makes one jump into a trap even while knowing it’s there. However, my guess is that their meat supply hasn’t reached the point where they can provide it freely yet. Otherwise, given the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s profiteering nature, they wouldn’t have missed such a lucrative opportunity.”

Zhou Haiming paused. Seeing that the others agreed with him, he continued, “I would rather believe that the meat issue started with a shipping error rather than a deliberate plot. The Intelligence Department should step up their efforts to investigate this and clarify the situation. The present situation isn’t optimistic. Although the public’s mood is still under our control, no one can say when it might spiral out of bounds. Therefore, we must conclude negotiations within one week.”

Zhou Haiming then distributed a list of the negotiation team candidates to every representative present and said, “This is my preliminary list for the negotiation team. If anyone has objections, feel free to speak. This team will not have final decision-making power. Their goal is to find out the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s bottom-line conditions and return so the Alliance Council can make the final decision.”

To put it bluntly, this negotiation team was just a formality, sent to the Association’s headquarters in Qingyuan City primarily to gather intelligence.

Although the two parties had been trading for two and a half years, the Alliance had been unable to gather much information about the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. The reason was simple: the Association refused to allow anyone from the Lanxi Plateau to enter their territory. Even the spies tucked among the batches of high-level specialists sent there never returned; they produced no results.

In the Alliance’s mind, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was a commercialized nation filled with an air of freedom. It was like a giant elephant—possessing immense strength but with a gentle temperament. It didn’t fear lions or leopards, but it wouldn’t go out of its way to cause trouble. The Association seemed to follow the principle of ‘if no one provokes me, I won’t provoke them,’ which made it feel less threatening than it actually was.

This nature often led people to unconsciously underestimate or overlook them.

It was only because of the protests over the meat that the Alliance was truly starting to take the Yuanqiang Commercial Association seriously. Unfortunately, by this stage, the Alliance realized that everything the Association did was like a hedgehog—there was nowhere to get a grip on them.

The formation of the negotiation team was more of an excuse to go to Qingyuan City and further understand if this colossus would become a true threat to the Alliance. It carried many responsibilities and was the Alliance’s best opportunity to open the doors of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

Once the team members were finalized, the next step was to notify the Yuanqiang Commercial Association mission office set up in Akih Lake City.

Based on what they knew of the office, they expected it wouldn’t have the authority to make such a call. The best outcome would be for the office to submit the request to headquarters via a transport airship. With the round trip, it would take at least four or five days. This would be enough time for each member of the negotiation team to prepare.

To their surprise, however, the office responded immediately regarding the meat negotiation team. They agreed to let the team go to Qingyuan City, but they had to depart tomorrow evening on a Hercules transport airship.

Given its massive cargo capacity, the Hercules transport airship couldn’t simply load up and leave immediately. Relying on the resources of the Lanxi Plateau, it had been docked at the Akih Lake port for a full week before it was finally filled with various raw materials. Tomorrow evening was its scheduled departure time, and the negotiation team would catch a ride.

Faced with this sudden response, the messenger was given a reasonable explanation by the office: “Through our transport airships, headquarters was already aware of the events on the Lanxi Plateau. Regarding the series of misunderstandings caused by the shipping error, we express our apologies and hope to engage in dialogue regarding the meat issue…”

The answer was logically sound, but it felt strange. It seemed almost too smooth. One had to remember that the Yuanqiang Commercial Association had rejected numerous exchange delegations from the Alliance in the past. Why were they so agreeable this time?

Of course, they couldn’t have known that the Akih Lake office had established direct communication with headquarters months after its opening. Four communication airships were stationed at intervals between the two locations to ensure normal communication. Everything on the Lanxi Plateau was executed by the office under the direct guidance of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association headquarters, which made their response lightning-fast.

With no time to properly prepare, the negotiation team boarded the Hercules transport airship the following evening.

The takeoff of a Hercules transport airship was truly a sight to behold. Its 1,200-ton cargo capacity made it unforgettable. The negotiation team consisted of eleven people, led by Ye Qiancheng. He was not yet forty and had been a hostage negotiator in the police force, specializing in suicide interventions and kidnappings. He had extensive experience in negotiation techniques.

From the moment they boarded this unimaginably massive transport airship, a sense of breathlessness gripped the entire team.

“How did they build this?”

Countless people who saw the Hercules transport airship invariably asked that question. With a length of 960 meters—nearly a kilometer—and a height of over a hundred meters, a person standing beneath it truly felt like an ant under an elephant’s foot.

Entering the massive gondola and seeing a passenger cabin capable of holding 1,200 people, Ye Qiancheng felt a sense of disorientation. The vast cabin held only the eleven of them and some service staff, making it feel empty. It wasn’t until they entered a small private compartment that the feeling subsided.

The design of private compartments was a unique feature of the Hercules transport airship, something other airships lacked. These had windows that offered a view of the outside.

As if they were waiting specifically for the negotiation team, as soon as they were seated, a steward came by to announce that the airship was about to take off. The eleven members, none of whom had ever flown in an airship before, were extremely nervous but couldn’t find any seatbelts.

It wasn’t until a slight vibration came from beneath their feet and they saw the ground dropping away outside the window that they realized the airship was already rising.

Once the Hercules transport airship reached a vertical altitude of 3,000 meters, its massive engines started with a roar. The powerful propulsion caused the airship to move slowly, constantly accelerating until it reached its cruising speed. It then stopped accelerating and flew steadily toward Qingyuan City.

Night was falling over Akih Lake City. Powered by the crystal power plant, the lights sparkled like a star-filled sky on the earth. Ye Qiancheng and the others, seeing such a sight for the first time, couldn’t tear their eyes away; it was breathtakingly beautiful. However, the scene gradually receded and eventually vanished over the horizon, leaving the world below in total darkness.

“Everyone, according to the weather report, there might be some strong winds tonight. However, it won’t affect the stability of the Hercules transport airship’s systems. It will only reduce our flight speed. We expect to arrive in Qingyuan City around seven tomorrow morning. During this short journey, please rest assured. Food will be served shortly, and after you enjoy it, you can sleep and wake up at our destination.”

A crew member personally delivered the notice and politely left, even though it could have been handled over the intercom.

Ye Qiancheng and the others didn’t talk much in the compartment. They had hoped to watch the night scenery, but the weather didn’t cooperate. Thick clouds covered the moon and stars, plunging the world into darkness. The plan to sightsee was a bust.

At around ten o’clock, a steward arrived with a cart of food.

To their disbelief, there were two meat dishes. That long-lost aroma immediately captured everyone’s hearts.

“I thought you didn’t provide meat to the Lanxi Plateau?” Ye Qiancheng asked, his mouth stuffed with a large piece of fatty pork.

The steward smiled and explained, “We don’t provide it to the Lanxi Plateau, but our airship belongs to the Commercial Association, not the Lanxi Plateau, so naturally, we have meat. I hope you enjoy your meal.”

After enjoying a soul-stirring midnight snack, they were led to a rest area equipped with beds for sleeping.

Perhaps due to the weather, there were indeed some strong night winds, causing the Hercules transport airship to sway gently, much like a ship at sea. Those unaccustomed to it couldn’t fall asleep easily, especially considering they were thousands of meters in the air. The anxiety kept their sleepiness at bay.

There were no entertainment facilities on the Hercules transport airship, so any hope of entertaining themselves through the night was doomed.

Thinking about their arrival in Qingyuan City the next day and the difficult negotiation task ahead, Ye Qiancheng ordered the team members to close their eyes and rest, even if they couldn’t sleep, to prepare for fighting for the Alliance’s interests. Meanwhile, they were to complete the second task given by the Alliance: gather as much information as possible.

After two or three hours of acclimatization, the cradle-like swaying actually made it easier to drift off. By one in the morning, the cabin was filled with the sound of snoring.

Admittedly, Ye Qiancheng slept more deeply than he ever had before. For the first time in years since the apocalypse, he had a sweet dream. He was back in his old, happy life, with a new family—a son and a daughter. They lived in absolute safety, with no need to fear zombies or struggle for food…

The dream was long and sweet, yet it vanished in an instant as Ye Qiancheng woke up.

Just as the crew member had said, they might arrive in Qingyuan City after a single sleep. While not entirely accurate, peering through the window, Ye Qiancheng saw a faint white light on the horizon—the sign of dawn. Soon, the morning sun would rise, representing the start of a new day.

If the crew’s calculations weren’t too far off, Qingyuan City, the headquarters of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, should be just ahead.

Chapter 328: “Gold Mine”

Through the window, an endless, flat wasteland stretched out below. Though there was no direct sunlight, the early morning light still reflected off the vast expanse of sand and stone with a dull luster.

In the cloudless sky, several transport airships sailed in different directions in the far distance, but without exception, they all seemed to share a singular heading. As if breaking through the darkness of dawn, Ye Qiancheng felt as though he had entered a wondrous new world. The multitude of different airship types, the patrolling attack helicopters in the distance, and the fighter jets streaking across the sky like lightning bolts collectively formed an aerial world above the wasteland.

The constant takeoffs and landings of transport airships at Akih Lake had already been a marvel to behold, giving one a sense of the lake’s sheer bustle.

But seeing the scene outside the window now, Ye Qiancheng realized that Akih Lake paled in comparison to the headquarters of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. The entire sky was filled with various types of airships. Aside from the transport airships he was familiar with, there were many he was seeing for the first time, their functions completely unknown to him.

There were at least one or two hundred airships of various kinds gathered in the sky, a dense mass that cast massive dark shadows onto the ground below.

Before even nearing Qingyuan City, the Hercules transport airship hovered in mid-air. Ye Qiancheng and his team didn’t ask why; instead, they watched through the window as small, nimble airships appeared from time to time. These small airships were only about a dozen meters long with very simple gondolas, requiring only a single pilot.

At first, Ye Qiancheng and the others didn’t understand the purpose of these small crafts, but they soon figured it out.

They watched as a small airship flew in front of a transport airship and banked sharply. Then, an alert sounded as red and blue lights began flashing on the small craft as it led the way forward. The transport airship then engaged its engines and followed closely behind.

Pilot airships—a new type of craft created only when the number of airships increased into the hundreds. Just as the name suggested, they were responsible for guiding and organizing the queue of airships waiting to enter the port, preventing collisions that could result from overcrowding. It was precisely this measure that avoided chaos at the Qingyuan City airship port and increased the efficiency of the airships’ throughput.

Currently, the largest area in Qingyuan City was the airship port. It was nearly the size of the city’s urban district and could provide 160 berths simultaneously. All trade originated from here, making the port’s bustle one of the sights of Qingyuan City. From the air, one could always see people working like ants alongside rows of vehicles.

In just ten short minutes, even though they could only see a small slice of the sky from their window, the entire negotiation team was left stunned.

“The prosperity and bustle here… even ten Akih Lakes couldn’t compare to this,” Ye Qiancheng sighed. Akih Lake, which had always been his pride, was nothing compared to this place. Judging by the directions from which these airships were coming, they were arriving from all points of the compass. If he wasn’t mistaken, the trade partners of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association were definitely not limited to the Lanxi Plateau; there were likely many places the Lanxi Plateau knew nothing about.

Reaching this conclusion made Ye Qiancheng feel somewhat dejected. In a negotiation, whoever possesses more power naturally holds more bargaining chips. Looking at the situation now, the other party didn’t necessarily need to rely on the Lanxi Plateau market. Furthermore, the prosperity of the Lanxi Plateau itself was built upon trade with this very Association.

Amidst his swirling thoughts, a pilot airship finally appeared in front of the Hercules. After a brief communication, it began to guide the behemoth forward.

This point was still 20 kilometers away from Qingyuan City, and from the sky, they could see the city as a dark line on the horizon. However, upon reaching a distance of 15 kilometers, the first thing that greeted their eyes was the endless expanse of farmland below. Machines were working the fields, tending to lush, green patches of crops.

Agriculture on the Lanxi Plateau was still in a primitive state, and the lack of mechanical assistance meant that agricultural output was far from ideal.

Ye Qiancheng couldn’t even remember how many years it had been since he had seen a proper city. Akih Lake couldn’t be called a city; its tallest building was only the seven-story branch office of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, and everything else consisted of one or two-story earthen houses. Whenever it rained, the streets became so muddy that no one wanted to go outside.

As the high-rise buildings of Qingyuan City came into view, Ye Qiancheng even felt an urge to weep.

Upon reaching the airship port, the Hercules descended slowly under the guidance of the pilot airship. Due to its unique nature, a specific berth had been designated for it as its exclusive spot, allowing it to take off or land quickly in case of an emergency.

Once the Hercules was steady, a steward came over to lead the eleven members of Ye Qiancheng’s team away.

Two passenger helicopters were parked next to the Hercules. An officer in a neat uniform stood at the airship’s hatch with five men. Seeing Ye Qiancheng emerge, he gave a military salute and said with a smile, “Luo Chengjie, here to receive you by order of the Ministry of Commerce!”

Ye Qiancheng and his team awkwardly returned the salute and said, “Thank you. I am Ye Qiancheng, the team leader. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Luo Chengjie made a gesturing motion and said, “This is no place for conversation. Everyone, please board. The Ministry of Commerce has already prepared your accommodations.”

Ye Qiancheng and the others nodded and boarded the two passenger helicopters. Amidst the deafening roar of the engines, the helicopters quickly took off from the airship port and flew toward the urban district of Qingyuan City.

Looking down at the busy scene below—the advanced mechanized assembly lines for loading and unloading, the seemingly endless rows of airships—it was all far beyond anything the Lanxi Plateau could compare to, let alone the helicopter they were currently riding in. Such things were impossible on the Lanxi Plateau. In his capacity as a negotiation expert, Ye Qiancheng had naturally ridden in police helicopters before, but he never expected to receive this kind of treatment here.

The skies over Qingyuan City were not empty; many urban transport airships were responsible for moving vital supplies.

Down on the streets, even though it was early morning, traffic already filled the roads. From the helicopter, they could see large numbers of people waiting at bus stops. The streets were crowded with pedestrians, and shops were opening everywhere. Seeing this gave Ye Qiancheng a strange illusion, as if he had been transported back to a city from the pre-apocalyptic world.

The team was put up in a villa with plenty of rooms, which was perfect for their group.

After they stepped off the helicopters, Luo Chengjie gave another salute and said, “You’ve traveled a long way. Rest here for a while.”

“When will your Chairman meet with us?” one of the members couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t want to be left hanging for a week or two. The situation in the Alliance was not optimistic, so they couldn’t afford to wait passively. To put it another way, the other side could afford to wait, but their Alliance could not.

Hearing this, Luo Chengjie was taken aback. His expression stiffened for a moment before he chuckled and said, “If you’re here to see the Chairman, I suggest you buy a house outside and set up an office; maybe then you’ll get to see him.” Did they think the Chairman was that easy to see? Who did they think they were?

Sensing the other man’s dissatisfaction, Ye Qiancheng said with an apologetic smile, “My apologies, we were just being overeager.”

After Luo Chengjie left, Ye Qiancheng shot an annoyed glare at the member who had nearly caused trouble. “Do you know what the Chairman represents to them? If you don’t, go take a good look at the Seven-Colored Currency in your pocket. The portrait on it will tell you.” Having said that, he hurried into the villa, leaving the stunned man behind.

Ye Qiancheng and his team were finally granted an audience on the third day.

The person meeting them was not Zhou Yuanqiang, of course, but the Minister of Commerce, Bai Zuoyou—a shrewd old man who acted as though he knew nothing. But everyone knew that no one in a ministerial position could be a simple character. At the very least, Bai Zuoyou’s history told everyone that he had started from scratch to amass a fortune of hundreds of millions; he had seen more of the world than most.

In the conference room of the Ministry of Commerce, Ye Qiancheng’s group of eleven sat on one side, while the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was represented only by Bai Zuoyou and two assistants.

“Very well, gentlemen. We understand your purpose for being here.”

Bai Zuoyou peered with his weary, old eyes, leaning back lazily in his chair as if this wasn’t a negotiation but an inconsequential meeting he was merely attending out of formality. “I only want to know: you want us to export meat to the Lanxi Plateau, but what can you give our Commercial Association in return? You all understand the value of meat; no one can refuse its temptation. Furthermore, it seems the situation on your Lanxi Plateau is… a bit precarious.”

Ye Qiancheng had intended to use his silver tongue to set the tone, but the old man’s seemingly clouded eyes were filled with a sharp intelligence that seemed to pierce through everything. From the very start, the negotiation had entered a phase disadvantageous to his side.

“The cooperation between the Alliance and the Commercial Association hasn’t just been for a day or two; as of today, it has been exactly two years and six and a half months. During this time, both sides have enjoyed a very pleasant partnership. Meat is precious, yes, but it is ultimately a commodity. According to your Association’s creed, wouldn’t it be perfect to use it to gain greater profits? I believe that introducing meat into the vast market of the Lanxi Plateau will surely create more value for the Commercial Association. I don’t believe such a mutually beneficial arrangement requires any extra payment.”

In the face of Ye Qiancheng’s attempt to shift the momentum, Bai Zuoyou merely gave a cold smile. “I wonder, does the Lanxi Plateau truly have such great value?”

Ye Qiancheng froze. His mouth opened, then slowly closed.

What was the value of the Lanxi Plateau? No one could really say for sure. When the Yuanqiang Commercial Association traded, the things they required were, first, crystals; second, various raw materials; and third, Seven-Colored Currency. Everything else was essentially useless as a trade item or currency.

Crystals were taken entirely from zombies. To obtain them, everyone on the Lanxi Plateau had been driven to a frenzy. While large numbers of crystals were gathered and zombies were being cleared rapidly, the heavy casualties were something the Lanxi Plateau could hardly endure. As for raw materials, the Lanxi Plateau was originally a barren place with insufficient resources, so they were rarely used in trade.

As for Seven-Colored Currency, it was even more of a joke. Wasn’t it the Yuanqiang Commercial Association itself that issued the currency? To get the currency, one had to exchange crystals for it, which looped back to the first problem of crystals.

In the end, all the Lanxi Plateau could truly offer was crystals. But crystals weren’t something you could just pick up; you had to pay with lives to get them. Moreover, after more than two years of scavenging, the bulk of the crystals had already fallen into the Association’s hands. The daily output, when averaged out, didn’t even amount to a single measly crystal per person.

No crystals and no raw materials meant that the Lanxi Plateau couldn’t afford meat at all, nor did they have the means to enjoy it.

They hadn’t considered this before, simply thinking that if the other side traded with them, they would just buy the goods with Seven-Colored Currency. But thinking about it now, it was absurd. It wouldn’t even be an exaggeration to say that the entire supply of Seven-Colored Currency on the Lanxi Plateau, which had been exchanged for crystals, was now flowing back into the hands of shop employees.

And who employed the most people? The shops controlled by the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

Ye Qiancheng suddenly realized that there was no point in continuing the negotiation; the Lanxi Plateau had absolutely nothing of value to offer.

“We truly do not have that much value,” Ye Qiancheng said in a low voice, like a defeated rooster. He knew this attitude was fatal for a negotiation. But what could he do? The seemingly powerful Alliance was nothing but a lump of clay to be molded in the other side’s eyes. Given the massive gap in power, the Alliance could do nothing unless it started a war to get what it needed.

Thinking of war, Ye Qiancheng couldn’t help but shiver.

The Alliance did have 500,000 soldiers, but they were too far away. Separated by endless mountains and infested with countless zombies, how could they possibly launch an expedition here? Don’t forget, the Alliance had no aerial transport capability.

Looking at it from another perspective, given the Commercial Association’s immense strength and colossal airships, would it be difficult for them to arm a military force? Just like the United States during the World Wars—it might not have had the strongest military initially, but its military potential was the greatest. They could build a well-equipped army practically overnight because they had the support of a powerful industrial base.

Whether in terms of economic or military power, the Lanxi Plateau and the Association were simply not on the same level.

Clearly, all eleven members of the negotiation team had realized the gap between them, and their heads hung low. Without a doubt, this was bound to be a failed negotiation.

Their expressions were all noted by Bai Zuoyou. He smiled and said, “Don’t be discouraged. Negotiation is all about starting with sky-high prices and haggling down to earth. Since we agreed to negotiate, we will naturally offer a condition you can bear based on your situation.”

Ye Qiancheng’s spirits lifted. “Then, what is your side’s condition?”

Bai Zuoyou took a delicate sip of tea and said, “In our eyes, the Lanxi Plateau is like an unmined gold mine, with countless gold nuggets waiting to see the light of day. But your Alliance is currently like a layer of dirt covering the luster of that gold. Although it blocks the gold’s light, it hasn’t stopped people’s greed.”

This highly metaphorical statement left Ye Qiancheng unable to understand for a moment. What exactly was the Yuanqiang Commercial Association looking at on the Lanxi Plateau? What did they hope to gain?

Seeing that they still didn’t quite understand, Bai Zuoyou laughed. “Let me put it this way. Our Commercial Association trades with many settlements and requires a huge amount of goods to satisfy the market. Those goods require a large number of factories and a massive workforce. A characteristic of the apocalypse is the scarcity of people, which makes it impossible to support such a large industrial machine. This has caused the Association’s development to stagnate…”

As soon as he said this, Ye Qiancheng and the others finally understood. The “gold” the other side was referring to was the population of the Alliance.

“Are you saying… your condition is our people?”

Ye Qiancheng could hardly believe it. Beneath the seemingly cordial atmosphere, a bloody, devouring maw had been revealed. What did population represent? It was the foundation of survival for every post-apocalyptic power. The more people one had, the stronger that power was. The three million people of the Lanxi Plateau had always been the Alliance’s pride and the foundation of its survival. And now, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was saying they would trade meat export rights for their population?

“Aren’t you being a bit too ambitious? That’s completely impossible—”

Before Ye Qiancheng could speak, a member of the negotiation team stood up, slammed the table, and roared, “You are nothing but a pack of wolves, dreaming of encroaching upon the Lanxi Plateau! Let me tell you, the 500,000 soldiers of our Alliance will never agree to this. You can give up on that idea right now!”

Bai Zuoyou acted as if what he had just proposed was a trivial matter. He said, “In our view, the population of your Lanxi Plateau is still engaged in primitive labor, which is a massive waste. It fails entirely to harness our human potential. Your ways will only lead humanity toward destruction. How can you talk about eliminating zombies or reclaiming the lands beneath this sky?”

Ye Qiancheng grew calm. Matters had far exceeded his expectations. He said, “That would seem to be an internal matter of the Lanxi Plateau Alliance, would it not?”

Bai Zuoyou stood up and said with a smile, “Gentlemen, there’s no need to be tense. I think you should take a good look around our Association. Then we can discuss the feasibility of this matter again. I believe your attitudes will have changed by then.”

He turned to his assistant and said, “Send someone to take our honored guests to the Wasteland Military Base. I think that might change their perspective.”

The assistant complied and left the room. Bai Zuoyou also smiled, said nothing more, and walked out of the conference room, leaving Ye Qiancheng and his confused team behind, wondering what kind of game the other side was playing.

Chapter 329: The Power Put on Display

In the post-apocalyptic world, efficiency was of the highest priority, and the Commercial Association took this very seriously. Every department was equipped with helicopters, usually at least three. The Intelligence Department, for instance, was rumored to have the largest non-military fleet in the entire Commercial Association, boasting over sixty functional helicopters of various types. The Ministry of Commerce was not far behind; with fifteen helicopters, they sat comfortably in the middle tier of the departments.

Luo Chengjie was once again responsible for transporting Ye Qiancheng and his group, though this time the number of helicopters had increased to three.

Luo Chengjie’s expression could neither be described as warm nor cold; it was entirely mechanical. After a few brief pleasantries, he said apologetically, “Everyone, since we will be entering the Commercial Association’s military zones, we must ensure that military secrets are not leaked and maintain the security of the area. My apologies.” With a wave of his hand, personnel began to perform full-body searches on the group.

Only after confirming they carried nothing threatening did Luo Chengjie allow Ye Qiancheng and the others to board the helicopters and fly toward the Wasteland Military Base.

The Wasteland Military Base was located just under fifty kilometers away. After more than a year of large-scale development, the military force stationed there had grown increasingly massive. The base had expanded several times over, to the point where it was faintly beginning to connect with the small oasis. If nothing unexpected happened, the small oasis might be completely surrounded by the military base by next year, becoming part of a massive military zone spanning over twenty kilometers in diameter.

The helicopters from the Ministry of Commerce were not military-grade aircraft, so once they were twenty-five kilometers west of Qingyuan City, they landed on a highway.

A massive checkpoint stood here. It had been constructed as a veritble fortress, and the sheer firepower contained within left Ye Qiancheng and his companions speechless. Aside from a massive artillery battery, there were hidden missile launchers, various anti-aircraft weapons, over a dozen heavy tanks, and several attack helicopters…

After the helicopters landed, the group boarded prepared military off-road vehicles. Luo Chengjie explained, “Non-military aircraft are banned from flying in this zone. Although we all belong to the same Commercial Association, the Ministry of Commerce is not a military department and does not have the authority to fly here.” He patted the frame of the off-road vehicle and added proudly, “This vehicle was produced by our armored vehicle factory. Its performance isn’t quite up to a Hummer’s, but it’s close. It’s already one of the standard vehicle models in the army.”

The checkpoint was only about twenty kilometers from the main base. Along the way, they could see fighter jets screaming overhead from time to time, and hear the ear-splitting roar of collective artillery drills. Occasionally, they even saw large missiles soaring into the sky, flying off toward an unknown destination.

Ye Qiancheng and his group could hardly believe their eyes. They hadn’t expected the Yuanqiang Commercial Association to possess such immense military power. Just what they could see now was enough to make one tremble.

The military strength of the Lanxi Plateau under the Alliance consisted of as many as five hundred thousand soldiers, with a reserve of a million that could be mobilized at any time. This had always been the Alliance’s pride. However, their equipment was lagging; the troops were barely fully equipped with the easily manufactured AK-series rifles, their artillery was only just beginning to take shape, and their primitive aircraft were still in development. They were a long way off from having true combat effectiveness.

In truth, from the moment they had seen the Commercial Association’s powerful airships, everyone knew the other side’s industry was incredibly strong. Seeing the massive number of helicopters only confirmed that the Association had reached a mature stage in aircraft manufacturing. The fighter jets that occasionally appeared in the sky were the undisputed masters of the air, and that kind of shock was not something one could face calmly.

It could be said that the gap in equipment between the two sides was astronomical; they weren’t even in the same league.

Luo Chengjie didn’t bother introducing the history of the Wasteland Military Base. He remained silent the whole way, allowing them to observe everything they saw. Seeing their shocked expressions, Luo Chengjie felt like laughing. He knew that all of this was just a drop in the ocean compared to the base’s full strength, and that was without even counting the military forces in the Tianzhou Plain and Lenghu. He wondered what expressions they would make when they saw the interior of the military base.

As they neared the base, Luo Chengjie said, “The military base is divided into three parts: the Army Zone, the Air Force Zone, and the Experimental Zone. Our first stop is the Army Zone.” The convoy led the group into the Army Zone, which was surrounded by high walls. Heaving machine gun towers were stationed at regular intervals along the wall, supplemented by a vast number of anti-aircraft guns and surface-to-air missiles. With layer after layer of barbed wire and crisscrossing external defensive works, it was a literal hedgehog of a fortress.

At the main gate, the convoy was subjected to a comprehensive inspection. Only after their orders from headquarters were verified were they finally allowed through.

Upon entering the Army Zone, the first thing that hit them was an endless expanse of barracks. Densely packed together, a conservative estimate suggested they could house at least two hundred thousand people. The convoy didn’t stop there but continued forward to the training grounds.

Dust and mud billowed in the air. Luo Chengjie handed each of them a pair of binoculars and said, “We’re in luck. We’ve arrived just as the tank units are training.”

Ye Qiancheng raised his binoculars and saw heavy tanks charging through the rolling dust. From time to time, as they moved, their cannons spat tongues of flame, followed by the booming roar of impact. Target after target was blown to smithereens in the shelling.

This was a vast training ground that seemed to have no end, and there were tanks operating in almost every corner.

“This is… terrifying. I can’t believe it!”

The simultaneous appearance of hundreds of tanks formed a Steel Torrent. The sheer momentum of a force that seemed like nothing could stop it left everyone deeply shaken. Except for Ye Qiancheng, who had some knowledge of equipment from his time with the SWAT, the other members of the negotiation team knew little about military matters. But whether they understood it or not, the resonance triggered by the Steel Torrent of hundreds of tanks was the same.

Their knowledge of tanks came mostly from military reports, where at most a dozen tanks might appear on screen. Even during the National Day military parades, the numbers were meager. They had never seen tanks in such quantities.

With hundreds of tanks deployed, the line they formed was far larger than people imagined. Through the binoculars, one could only see a small portion of it at a time.

Luo Chengjie chuckled and said, “This is only a portion of the Commercial Association’s tank units. I wonder how many troops a charge like this could crush? Let me think… these are heavy tanks. Average anti-tank missiles might not even penetrate their frontal armor. At the very least, a charge from this entire tank group should have no problem dealing with an army of two hundred to three hundred thousand, wouldn’t you say?”

Hearing Luo Chengjie’s seemingly casual mutterings, the faces of every member of the negotiation team turned pale.

On the open plateau, a charge by a tank corps would be a nightmare for any infantry. Considering the terrain of the Lanxi Plateau and their inferior equipment, what did it matter if they had five hundred thousand soldiers? Without enough anti-tank weapons, it wouldn’t be surprising if those five hundred thousand soldiers were completely routed by such a tank force.

Tanks supported by infantry charges were a perfect combination. By any calculation, the Alliance had zero chance of winning a head-on battle. Even if they defeated the opponent regardless of the cost, the price would be more than the Alliance could bear—it might even force the entire Alliance to dismantle.

The tank units alone were enough to make them feel suffocated. But the exercise didn’t stop there. The appearance of the rocket artillery units, with their incredibly fierce firepower, showed the world their terrifying speed, horrific destructive power, and breathtaking precision.

Ye Qiancheng’s face turned white. He had come here under orders from Zhou Haiming to scout and gather intelligence on the Commercial Association’s military strength. He had originally thought it would be difficult, but who would have guessed they would be directly invited to tour the place? He had thought it was a golden opportunity. At first, he was excited—if he could learn the extent of the enemy’s strength, the Alliance could react accordingly.

But what was he seeing now?

It was no exaggeration to say that if the Yuanqiang Commercial Association wanted to, the mechanized land forces currently on display alone could send the entire Alliance to hell.

And that wasn’t all. What about the Association’s infantry? What about their terrifying artillery groups, their missile launcher vehicles, and their static batteries? When all these forces were integrated into the army’s structure for a full-scale operation, the Alliance would be like a helpless child in their eyes. The Association would only need a single punch to solve the problem.

And don’t forget, besides the Army, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association also had an Air Force—an even more terrifying branch of the military.

Ye Qiancheng was a man of the world. He understood that the reason the other side was so generous in letting him view their military power—without the slightest concern about his spying—was because their strength exceeded the Alliance’s by far too much. The two were no longer on the same level. Because of this, they didn’t need to hide anything from the Alliance. In the face of absolute power, all schemes and plots were futile.

The tour of the Army Zone lasted only two hours, but those two hours provided the negotiation team with the greatest shock of their lives.

As they left the Army Zone, everyone was deep in thought. The eleven members of the negotiation team came from eleven different settlements—now called cities. Under the Alliance, they were supposedly a single entity, but everyone knew that while they might act as one during a manageable crisis, would they stay united in the face of an irresistible force?

Spouses are like birds in the forest; when disaster strikes, each flies their own way. Did that not perfectly describe the situation?

When they reached the Air Force Zone, the security was even tighter. Patrol squads were everywhere, and the sheer number of surveillance cameras made it impossible for anyone to infiltrate. Every member of the Air Force had a specialized identification device; anyone from the outside would be immediately spotted by the monitoring system.

The Commercial Association hadn’t specifically arranged these drills for the negotiation team; they were simply following their daily training schedules.

The Army had their collective charges, but that didn’t mean the Air Force would do the same. Thus, after Luo Chengjie’s group arrived, only an Air Force First Lieutenant came out to greet them and lead them into the Air Force Zone.

The entire Air Force Zone consisted of low buildings. The first thing that made a deep impression was that there were even more anti-aircraft weapons here than in the Army Zone. The importance of the Air Force meant they could never allow themselves to be hit by an air raid without being able to fight back. Having experienced the Guam Air Base disaster, Zhou Yuanqiang did not want to see history repeat itself on his watch. Consequently, his emphasis on the Air Force base’s defense was no less than that of the Army’s, and the heavy deployment made the area airtight.

The Air Force Zone was smaller than the Army Zone, primarily consisting of airfields. What had started as a single main airfield had expanded into sixteen airfields of various sizes, housing as many as two thousand five hundred aircraft of all types. These were mostly fighter jets, supplemented by a large number of bombers and functional aircraft.

The Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier was not docked at the Wasteland Military Base. Its current station was the half-finished spaceport, specifically the two docks that were already operational.

The original main airfield could hold up to one thousand five hundred fighter jets at once. Although only six hundred were currently stationed here since the other airfields came online, the sight of them lined up in perfect rows was even more terrifying than the hundreds of tanks.

The moment he stepped out of the military off-road vehicle, the sight of those neatly arranged fighter jets made Ye Qiancheng’s blood boil. An indescribable power surged through him, making him want to scream out loud to release the passion he felt. But he couldn’t make a sound, because behind that surge of blood was an even deeper fear.

Because none of this belonged to the Alliance. It belonged to a partner that was about to become an opponent.

The reactions of the other members were even more varied. If the hundreds of tanks earlier had caused them to start making certain plans, the appearance of the even more powerful Air Force was enough to make them reach a final decision. The matter was out of their hands because this opponent was too powerful, far exceeding anyone’s imagination.

Luo Chengjie had anticipated this reaction. He added fuel to the fire, saying, “Everyone, this is only one of our sixteen airfields. Six hundred fighter jets are stationed here, supported by thousands of ground crew. As you can see, all the jets here are in a state of combat readiness. They are fully armed and ready to carry out any order from the Chairman at a moment’s notice.”

Luo Chengjie’s words made everyone’s hearts tremble again. Six hundred jets was already an appalling number, but to find out this was only one of sixteen airfields? This final blow destroyed any remaining calm. Aircraft were different from tanks. Six hundred tanks couldn’t defeat six hundred jets, but six hundred jets could easily wipe out six hundred tanks… these were two different levels of military power entirely.

Seeing their stunned expressions, Luo Chengjie smiled again. “The Commercial Association views the Air Force as its foundation. A year and a half ago, we already had one thousand two hundred fighter jets. After a year of development and the expansion of several aircraft factories, we now have five new fighter jets entering service every single day.”

His tone suddenly shifted. “Furthermore, we have the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier. It is the Air Force’s most powerful means of attack.”

“The Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier?”

Though no one knew exactly what kind of carrier it was, if it earned that title, could its reputation be small? It was likely yet another force that would make men tremble. If they had any doubts, they only needed to think of an aircraft carrier battle group. Their composition made them literal war machines, and their strategic significance far outweighed their actual combat value.

The whole excursion was called a tour, but Ye Qiancheng felt it was more of an ordeal. The blow to his morale was too heavy to bear.

Even though they had only seen the tip of the iceberg of the Wasteland Military Base, Ye Qiancheng knew there was no need to see anything else. This fraction of power was already enough to crush the Alliance. Or rather, Ye Qiancheng couldn’t handle any more shocks; he was afraid his heart would give out or he would go mad.

Once they returned to the Ministry of Commerce, Bai Zuoyou didn’t let them go back to rest. Instead, he sat down in the meeting room, smiling as he faced the pale-faced Ye Qiancheng and the others. He said calmly, “With our military strength, your Alliance is completely defenseless. Do you want to know why, with such overwhelming power, we haven’t conquered the Lanxi Plateau yet?”

Ye Qiancheng wanted to know the answer to that. If he were in their position, he would have sent his armies to occupy and rule the region long ago.

“Why?”

Ye Qiancheng couldn’t help but ask.

Bai Zuoyou toyed with the pen in his hand. “Because we do not wish to see widespread suffering. Wherever there is war, there are casualties. The Chairman is merciful; he believes enough people have died in this post-apocalyptic world already. He doesn’t want unnecessary bloodshed. But mercy does not mean we will stop moving forward. For the Commercial Association to develop, we need more manpower and resources. You should understand that beneath our gentle surface, we possess both passion and a necessary degree of ruthlessness and coldness.”

“What do you want us to convey?” Ye Qiancheng suddenly shuddered. He knew the man wasn’t lying; it was a well-intentioned warning.

Bai Zuoyou looked at Ye Qiancheng and said firmly, “We will give you one week to decide. After one week, regardless of the outcome, we will deploy our troops to the Lanxi Plateau. Whether you choose to suffer and face destruction, or join the Commercial Association and build a future for this world together, depends on your decision.”

He smiled faintly. “I forgot to mention… half the members of your Alliance have already agreed to the conditions offered by our Association. They will be assisting us when the time comes.”

Regardless of whether it was true or not, that final sentence sent a chill down the spines of the negotiation team members, making their hair stand on end.

Chapter 330: Dark Clouds Gathering

The negotiation team led by Ye Qiancheng returned to the Alliance aboard an ordinary transport airship, their hearts heavy with complex emotions.

Compared to the grand spectacle of their arrival and the overbearing presence of the Hercules transport airship, their departure felt somewhat desolate. However, at this moment, they were in no mood to care about such things. They only wanted to return to the Alliance and convey everything they had seen and heard to the upper-level representatives. It would be up to them to decide the Alliance’s ultimate direction.

But… did the Alliance even have a “direction” left to speak of? The power behind Bai Zuoyou’s final words was no less than that of an atomic bomb.

“Forget it. What do these things have to do with me? I’m just a small figure in the Alliance.”

Deep down, Ye Qiancheng was increasingly willing to see the Lanxi Plateau become a part of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. From his current position, this thought was somewhat rebellious, yet it was the truth. The apocalypse was not an era of peace; it concerned the very fate of humanity, leaving no room for selfishness or a lingering attachment to power. If they relied on the Alliance’s current capabilities, survival was possible, but achieving anything significant was a sheer pipe dream.

The Yuanqiang Commercial Association was different. The power it had displayed gave people hope.

This organization had only been established for two and a half years, yet it possessed a miraculous speed of development. Ye Qiancheng had no doubt that if given more time, it could become even stronger and take on the role of the savior of the apocalypse. No… it should be said that it already possessed that capability now.

Once the negotiation team returned to Akih Lake City on the Lanxi Plateau, the eleven members didn’t even report to the Alliance immediately. Instead, they scattered like startled birds.

Just as Ye Qiancheng had predicted, the information gathered from this trip had a massive impact on the Lanxi Plateau. Within hours of their return, the atmosphere in every settlement changed abruptly. Soldiers began patrolling the streets, monitoring every suspicious person and target.

Naturally, this change alerted the sensitive populace, feeling like the precursor to a violent storm.

Disregarding the early hour of the morning, the Alliance Council began issuing notices to all member settlements, calling for a Supreme Alliance Convention. This convention was no longer for mere settlement representatives; it required the attendance of the highest leaders of each settlement. Generally, such a meeting was only held when the Alliance faced critical decisions.

With the convenience of transport, the various moguls quickly gathered, allowing the convention to finally begin in the early hours of the dawn.

As if to exert pressure on the Alliance, just as the convention was starting, mass strikes broke out across the cities of the Lanxi Plateau. People poured into the streets, shouting slogans. Under the activation of secret agents, radical banners appeared within the marching crowds.

The benefits provided by the Yuanqiang Commercial Association were printed on these banners and held high by the people.

“We need a sky more suitable for living!”

“We need a stronger government, not one that lets us live in cowardice!”

“Survival of the fittest! Let those who are capable lead!”

The cities fell into complete chaos. Once the people’s emotions were stirred, the consequences were terrifying. They lost their reason, becoming driven to frenzy by the words and actions of the instigators. What had originally been a protest triggered by the meat supply had, under the clever arrangement of long-embedded spies, gradually changed its flavor.

Even the people following the march gradually changed their slogans. They were no longer demanding meat, but rather demanding that the government join the Yuanqiang Commercial Association and become a part of it.

“The Commercial Association’s benefits and their completely free and open environment are countless times better than what we have now. Why refuse to join?” Whenever the protesters thought of the Association’s benefits—just being a resident under their rule entitled one to social security, while the minimum wage for working was enough to make anyone envious, not to mention the outrageously good conditions in the shops—their resolve hardened.

The people suddenly realized that they were already practically half-members of the Commercial Association; the only difference was that they hadn’t been officially recognized by the Association yet.

This realization made the people even more frantic, and the cries to join the Commercial Association grew louder.

As if adding fuel to the fire, a massive amount of promotional advertisements began to appear in every city on the Lanxi Plateau. You could see high-quality posters in every street and alley, showing beautifully printed images of bustling cities, thousands of kilometers of contiguous farmland, incredibly powerful military forces, and snapshots of life that looked like an idyllic paradise. They vividly explained to the world that this place… was the pure land of the apocalypse.

“Do you really expect to beat this with a rifle?”

The promotional poster for the massive Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier, accompanied by this single line, made a shocking debut.

Everyone who saw the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier held onto the posters, speechless. Looking at the simple performance specifications, no one could believe it. The airships they saw day and night could actually be built like this and possess such power?

The hardliners, those who clamored about using basic rifles to topple planes and tanks, suddenly lost their voices.

The massive gap in equipment was not something tactics could bridge. You couldn’t expect soldiers on the ground to use rifles and machine guns to attack a Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier several thousand meters in the air. Under the assault and bombardment of fighter jets, what tactics could ground troops use? Dispersing into small groups? Guerrilla warfare?

Without weapons to deal with fighter jets, all tactics were nonsense. Even an idiot knew there was no chance of victory.

Outrageously good benefits and unfathomably strong military power. With the arrival of the “carrot and stick” package, almost everyone knew that if the Alliance were truly considering the people’s interests, they should not reject this demand wished for by the masses, nor should they lead the three million people of the Alliance into the abyss of war.

As the seat of the Alliance and the largest city on the Lanxi Plateau, the protests in Akih Lake City were even more intense. Hundreds of thousands of people flooded the streets. Shouting various slogans, they surrounded the Alliance administrative district and the Akih Lake City government, squaring off against the garrisoned troops and exercising their “rights.”

In this environment, the atmosphere of the Alliance Convention held within the district became grim.

Zhou Haiming stood on the chairman’s podium. He walked to the window of the hall and suddenly pulled back the curtains, revealing the sea of people in the distance and the slogans echoing through the opened window. “Look, everyone. The current situation has forced us into a corner where we must make a decision.”

He scanned the crowd below. Leaders from dozens of settlements were present, with one to three top officials from each, bringing the total attendance to over a hundred people.

“But what pains me,” Zhou Haiming said with great distress, “is that half of the people present have failed to stick to their principles. They have secretly made contact with the other side, agreed to their terms, and acted as traitors to the Alliance. Although I do not know exactly who they are, I believe this is all true.”

The head of Akih Lake City was Gao Dunxian, a character no less significant than Zhou Haiming. He squinted his eyes and said calmly, “Chairman, we are here to discuss the Alliance’s response to the other party, not to point fingers at each other. Don’t forget, they only gave us one week, and we have already wasted two days.”

Zhou Haiming glanced at Gao Dunxian. In his eyes, the most suspicious person was the man before him.

Think about it: in the entire Alliance, the one who stood to benefit most directly was the ruler of Akih Lake. Based on the fact that this was the Alliance’s premier port alone, he was suspect. Gao Dunxian was an exceptionally shrewd man; reading the situation was his specialty. How could he possibly not want to latch onto the thick leg of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association?

“I believe everyone has received the news brought back by the negotiation team and knows the true face of this powerful opponent.”

Zhou Haiming returned to the main topic. He said, “Our Alliance possesses a massive population advantage. Although the opponent has superior equipment, do not forget that in terms of numbers, we leave them far behind. We can make up for the discrepancy in equipment with our numbers. Therefore, we have no reason to fear their threats.”

The members below looked at Zhou Haiming as if he were an idiot. They couldn’t understand how the usually shrewd Zhou Haiming sounded like his head had been caught in a door.

Make up for it with numbers?

That was complete bullshit. Were they supposed to use more soldiers to pad the enemy’s kill count or just to use up their surplus ammunition? In the face of such terrifying power, it was a delusion to think numbers could compensate. If they actually tried to drive their soldiers to their deaths like that, it would undoubtedly trigger a mutiny. These soldiers weren’t NPCs; they were flesh-and-blood people with their own thoughts. If they knew they were going to their certain deaths, who would go? Did he think the whole world was as stupid as he was?

Perhaps sensing the strange looks from below, Zhou Haiming coughed and gave a forced smile. “I don’t think they would dare to go against the will of the world and actually slaughter our soldiers, would they?”

With this sentence, even the calmest people could no longer remain still.

“Do you think war is something run by your family?”

Gao Dunxian rolled his eyes and said coldly, “Once war breaks out, it’s kill or be killed. Showing mercy to the enemy is cruelty to oneself. They will kill as many as dare to charge. I suspect you’d think the same if you were in their shoes. I really don’t know if you’ve been driven mad by the news. You’ve lost your usual competence to come up with such a retarded question.”

Zhou Haiming froze, shook his head, and sat back in the chairman’s seat. He needed to cool down and see if he really had been over-stimulated by the news.

“Everyone, let us vote. Do we fight, or do we seek peace?”

Once this question was thrown out, no one cared about Zhou Haiming’s recent embarrassment. Everyone bowed their heads in thought. This choice was like a crossroads in life; choose correctly, and you see beautiful scenery; choose wrongly, and you fall into a bottomless abyss, your bones left unrecovered. This was a matter of life and death, and they could not afford to treat it lightly.

Although a vote was called for, no one dared to make a quick decision. Everyone remained silent, communicating only in whispers.

The Alliance comprised dozens of large, medium, and small settlements, but power was held by the large ones. The small and medium settlements could only attach themselves to the powerful ones. At this moment, the four factions within the Alliance finally revealed themselves, splitting into four groups to exchange views.

As the Chairman of the Alliance, the Zhou faction was the strongest and had the most attached settlements. Following them was the Gao faction…

The neutral faction also had a significant number of people. They were indifferent because their principle was that whether it was war or peace, it didn’t concern them. They would only make a choice once the general trend was decided. Given their status as small settlements, even if they voted, they would still be ignored by the powerful.

The convention went on for three hours, yet no one dared to cast a ballot. Everyone was just discussing.

The attendees had traveled from far away and hadn’t rested all night. At this point, everyone was exhausted. Thus, the convention was temporarily adjourned to let everyone eat and rest, with the meeting resuming in the afternoon.

However, these seemingly exhausted people became lively as soon as they left the conference room. They immediately sent out their subordinates to gather information on the current situation outside.

The direction of the external situation was a crucial factor for the vote. You couldn’t have your people wanting to join while you chose war. That would cause the settlement to revolt. Who knows where a stray bullet might come from to take your life?

Gathering information didn’t take long because there was communication within the Alliance, though it was short-range and not widely available.

One by one, the promotional posters that had been circulating while they were in the meeting were soon delivered to the hands of the hesitating moguls. Many looked at the posters and the reports from their settlements while standing silently by their windows. No one knew what these powerful men were thinking.

Inside the room where Gao Dunxian was resting, his brow was knit into a tight knot. He was buried in his sofa, staring at a thick stack of promotional posters.

A soft knock sounded at the door, followed by the familiar voice of his subordinate. Gao Dunxian snapped back to reality and said, “Come in!”

But when he saw a stranger standing behind his subordinate, Gao Dunxian froze for a moment before regaining his composure. He looked at his loyal subordinate, sighed, and said, “I didn’t expect it. I really didn’t expect it.” He pointed to the sofa. “Sit.”

The stranger didn’t hesitate and sat on the opposite sofa. “Haide, go watch the door.”

Gao Dunxian’s loyal subordinate nodded, gave Gao Dunxian an apologetic smile, and left the room. After closing the door, he stood outside like a guardian deity.

“Allow me to introduce myself. Shao Xiaojian, an agent under the Third Group of the Commercial Association’s Intelligence Department. Going public means my current assignment is over. Today, I am here on behalf of the Commercial Association to confirm your attitude, Mr. Gao.” Shao Xiaojian’s introduction was very straightforward; he didn’t seem to find anything wrong with his identity as a spy.

Gao Dunxian had already expected this. He sighed, put down the posters, and said, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”

Shao Xiaojian chuckled. “The first thing those of us in this line of work are trained for is death—death at any time and any place. Besides, I believe a shrewd man like Mr. Gao wouldn’t do such a thing, because the current situation won’t allow you to.”

“You are also very clever.”

Gao Dunxian didn’t ask about the man’s hidden identity, nor did he ask how he had gotten in or how his subordinate Wang Haide had become a spy. Instead, he leaned back against the sofa and said, “Regarding what Zhou Haiming said about half the people in the Alliance accepting your terms… I didn’t believe it at first. But now, I do.” He paused. “Fine, let me see what terms you are offering.”

Shao Xiaojian took a document signed by Zhou Yuanqiang and stamped with the Commercial Association’s seal from his pocket. He placed it before Gao Dunxian and said, “You will become the Mayor. Management rights for Akih Lake will remain unchanged, though you must operate according to the laws and regulations of the Commercial Association.”

Gao Dunxian blinked. “Is it that simple?”

“Yes, it’s that simple,” Shao Xiaojian replied. “You must understand that while it may seem like your power is diminished, the benefits brought by the Commercial Association after they take over will far exceed your imagination. It’s no exaggeration to say that what you see on those posters is just the tip of the iceberg of the Association’s power. The Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier that terrifies you is merely a light aircraft carrier. Above it, there are supercarriers and strategic-tier weapons… How far do you think we will expand with such massive power?”

He looked at Gao Dunxian and smiled confidently. “A man should have a long-term vision. We should look at the whole world… Those who limit themselves to one city or one territory are merely short-sighted. I believe you are not a short-sighted man, Mr. Gao, and you will know which path you should take.”

Gao Dunxian’s eyelid twitched suddenly. He murmured, “Look at the world… Look at the world… Look…”

Suddenly, as if he had realized something, he stood up from the sofa and walked to the window. As he pulled the curtains, the floor was flooded with sunlight.

The Alliance Convention resumed in the afternoon as scheduled, but the cities under the Alliance were shrouded in dark clouds. Due to high-level alerts triggered by strikes, protests, and riots, squads of soldiers were deployed. They struggled to maintain order, but the situation grew more violent by the day. Under the guidance of certain personnel, conflicts continued to escalate, showing signs of spiraling out of control.

Even more terrifyingly, this loss of control had spread into the military.

The powerful poster campaign had similarly affected the soldiers. Facing an impossible-to-defeat opponent, the anti-war sentiment erupting from the soldiers was even more intense than that of the ordinary citizens. More and more soldiers laid down their weapons and held sit-ins in their barracks, using this method to tell the authorities their stance.

After an afternoon of contemplation, the moguls at the Alliance Convention finally made their decisions and entered the voting process…

Chapter 331: Reality is Scarier Than a Poster

As the Alliance Assembly drew to a close, the big shots from dozens of settlements began to file out of the Alliance administrative area.

Gao Dunxian wore a face full of smiles, while Zhou Haiming’s expression was dark and somber. Their countenances reflected the final outcome of the assembly. Without exception, however, every person paused as they exited to look up at the Alliance insignia hanging high above the administrative area. This would likely be the last time they saw it; soon, it would vanish into the river of history.

“By resolution of the Alliance and in accordance with the demands of the people, it has been agreed to merge into the Yuanqiang Commercial Association and become members under its rule. On behalf of the Alliance Assembly, I hereby announce that the Lanxi Alliance is officially dissolved and will await incorporation by the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.”

Zhou Haiming’s voice was low, carrying a sense of endless sorrow. He was announcing the collapse of the Alliance—a regime that had stood for four and a half years—from within. Without a single shot fired, it had come crashing down, remembered only as a brief dynasty in the post-apocalyptic era. As a founder who had built the Alliance with his own hands, he now found himself forced by immense pressure to destroy it with those same hands.

Once the news broke—signed by the Alliance with the names of dozens of settlement leaders—a deep sense of grief washed over the people, regardless of how eagerly they had wanted to join the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. This represented the end of the Alliance era, the dismantling of a dynasty. Perhaps they felt their own hand in it, a sense of guilt as if they had personally buried the Alliance.

However, this sorrow lasted only a few seconds before it was replaced by a wave of immense joy. The moment they thought about becoming citizens under the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, enjoying enviable welfare benefits and lower tax rates, being able to freely purchase the machinery they needed, or starting the factories they dreamed of—the people reached a boiling point of excitement.

It felt like the New Year. People celebrated, gongs and drums echoed in the streets, and everyone joined in this rare moment of universal jubilation.

Withdrawing from the Alliance administrative area, Zhou Haiming sat in a business van, looking back at the place where he had worked for four and a half years. Despair and bitterness swirled in his heart. This was especially true as he saw every street in Akih Lake City turned into an ocean of joy. People were acting as if it were the New Year; he could even hear the continuous crackle of firecrackers and the rhythmic beat of drums.

“Is it possible that all the blood and sweat I poured into bringing the Lanxi Plateau into the Alliance era was a mistake?”

Endless sorrow gripped Zhou Haiming’s heart, making him look as if he had aged ten years in an instant. This feeling of being discarded was unbearable. It felt as if everyone in the Alliance had betrayed him. He had exhausted his heart and soul, only for the Alliance to dissolve. This resentment made him clench his fists so hard they shook, wishing he could crush everything in the world to dust.

But no matter how great his resentment, the outcome could not be changed. Over 80% of the Alliance had voted in favor of the merger.

Even some settlements within his own faction had cast “yes” votes. Under these circumstances, holding only 20% of the Alliance’s military power, he had no way to fight back. Even if he had 100% of the Alliance’s strength, they would be far from a match for the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, let alone now when he only had a mere 100,000 soldiers who would still follow his orders.

Zhou Haiming’s motorcade was still grand. Two trucks were needed just to transport documents, not to mention the items and beloved furniture he had accumulated over the years.

Yet, that sense of lonely desolation refused to fade. Even after returning to his stronghold, Xishi City, Zhou Haiming still felt a profound sense of isolation. That feeling of betrayal lingered, keeping him silent throughout the entire journey home.

As his home base, Xishi City saw only minor celebrations. Since no order had come from Zhou Haiming and everyone knew he had voted against the merger, no one dared to stop the festivities on their own initiative.

That evening, all of Zhou Haiming’s trusted subordinates gathered at his residence.

“Chairman, are we really just giving up? We’ve prepared for years, only to hand over the fruits of our labor to others. Can you really accept this?”

Liao Yong, Zhou Haiming’s top subordinate who controlled a third of Xishi City’s military power, was the first to speak up. “Everything about the Yuanqiang Commercial Association is just hearsay spread by small-minded people. Only idiots like Gao Dunxian would believe it. It’s truly laughable; we haven’t even seen their shadow yet, and we’re already raising the white flag, waiting for them to take us over. Chairman, don’t you find it ridiculous?”

With Liao Yong taking the lead, the others nodded in agreement. The immense power of the Alliance had allowed every member of the Zhou faction to see their influence magnified indefinitely. For years, they had been preparing to seize ultimate power and turn the Alliance into their own personal domain. Just as their plans were nearing completion, the sudden arrival of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association had ruined everything.

Facing a room full of indignant subordinates, Zhou Haiming gave a bitter smile. “Do you still not see it? Even if we truly unified the Alliance, what then? Their strength isn’t something we can rival.” He paused and added, “Do you think everything about the Yuanqiang Commercial Association is just a rumor? Look at the hundreds of transport airships above our heads. Do you think an ordinary power could own those?”

“But…”

Liao Yong was still unwilling to let go, but Zhou Haiming cut him off. He looked at his top man and said, “If we mobilize everything and bring out the men we’ve trained in secret, we could raise a force of 400,000. But have you thought about it? Our equipment consists of a few machine guns and some artillery; the rest are just AK-series rifles. That’s fine for dealing with other Alliance factions, but how do we fight planes and tanks with that?”

Liao Yong instantly lost his momentum. There really was no comparison between the two.

Zhou Haiming sighed. “Back then, we were forced to come to this empty Lanxi Plateau. There was no industry and almost no agriculture. We started with nothing. We knew development would be difficult, and I assumed the other settlements were in the same boat as us. But now, it seems we were wrong.”

“Remember when the first exploration airship arrived? I was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. The Alliance had just entered its stable period. I looked at this emerging power with both trepidation and hope. I thought I could use its power, but who knew its dominance would be so terrifying? From the moment that first transport airship appeared, I knew the Alliance had been pushed into an uncertain future.”

He looked at his inner circle and said, “We will wait and see. If the Yuanqiang Commercial Association wants us to submit, they will naturally have to display a strength that humbles us. If they are strong, so be it. But if they are weak…” His eyes flashed with a cold light as he snarled, “400,000 soldiers plus the settlements in our faction are not to be trifled with.”

The moment the Lanxi Alliance issued its proclamation, it was transmitted back to the Yuanqiang Commercial Association headquarters in Qingyuan City.

Looking at a copy of the proclamation on his desk, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled. He had expected this result. Given the massive gap in power, anyone who wasn’t an idiot would know how to choose. However, propaganda posters alone were not enough. Most of the people seemingly surrendering were like grass in the wind; if the Commercial Association didn’t show some actual muscle, they could disregard the treaty at any moment and stand in opposition.

Furthermore, intelligence indicated that Zhou Haiming, the Chairman of the Alliance, was more powerful than he appeared on the surface. While Akih Lake City seemed like the premier power, Zhou Haiming was the true authority in the shadows. One didn’t become the Alliance Chairman just by sitting in a chair.

Normally, this wouldn’t matter, but anyone who lost the position of Alliance Chairman would feel a deep sense of resentment. The biggest “bomb” was likely Zhou Haiming. If they weren’t given something to fear and respect, child-like behavior would follow. Zhou Haiming and his faction would be the first to jump out, followed by the neutrals, and then the factions of Gao and Yang.

Unfortunately for them, from the moment the Lanxi Plateau was scouted, they were already destined to be swallowed up. How could they possibly escape?

“Pass down my orders: Execute Operation Sky-Startle. Simultaneously, send in the Lanxi Reorganization Team to begin the takeover of the Lanxi Plateau. One month from now, I want the entire Lanxi Plateau at my disposal.”

Following the order from the Chairman’s office, the command was sent via radio waves to the Operation Sky-Startle command center. The entire Commercial Association began to mobilize. Piercing sirens wailed as squads of soldiers took their positions; even officers and soldiers on leave rushed back to base the moment they heard the alarm.

Operation Sky-Startle was specifically tailored for the Lanxi Alliance. Its purpose was to intimidate those with dissenting hearts. Using the momentum from the operation, it would facilitate the reorganization and reconstruction of the entire Lanxi Alliance.

The Air Force, which now boasted 2,500 fighter jets of various types, possessed a strength comparable to that of a major nation in the pre-apocalyptic era.

The size of the Commercial Association was starting to limit the growth of the Air Force, which had reached a bottleneck. Two thousand five hundred fighter jets required 6,000 pilots, as many as 30,000 ground crew members, and over 10,000 stationed soldiers. The hundreds of tanks in the Army required equally massive logistics. Combined with a significantly oversized infantry corps, the military had reached the limits of expansion.

To continue growing, they needed a larger population to support military operations and the construction of more factories.

Thus, the three million-plus people on the Lanxi Plateau were the key to breaking this bottleneck for the Commercial Association—it was a step that could not be allowed to fail. Operation Sky-Startle was meant for deterrence, but it was essentially preparation for the conquest of the Lanxi Plateau. If the other side rejected the Association’s olive branch, Operation Sky-Startle would transform into “Operation Thunder,” delivering a fatal blow to the Lanxi Alliance.

Due to the distance, the execution of Operation Sky-Startle was handed over to the Air Force.

At the Wasteland Military Base, sixteen military airfields were buzzing with activity under the scorching sun. Fighter jets, hy-2s and hy-3s, were being fitted with full missile racks and fueled up by ground crews before taxiing onto the runways. With clearance from the control towers, they accelerated down the strips and roared into the cloudless blue sky.

Operation Sky-Startle consisted of 2,000 fighter jets of various types. Crossing a distance of 800 kilometers, they would arrive in forty minutes.

From the moment the decision to join the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was made, the common folk celebrated. However, those with foresight waited silently for an answer from the Association. This would decide the fate of their homes after the Alliance’s dissolution.

The waiting Alliance did not sit idly by. The troops in every settlement were placed on high alert, and all personnel returned to their posts. Rifles were loaded, every soldier was fully armed, and a curfew was largely enforced in the streets. Modified armored vehicles were deployed to key positions. Even the legions on the front lines holding back the zombies began to pull back, ready to provide support.

Influenced by this atmosphere, the transport airships that used to appear frequently in the sky seemed to have vanished collectively.

People in the streets, who had only been celebrating for a day, felt the heavy, oppressive atmosphere. Everyone hid in their homes. Even those who had to go out moved with hurried steps, nervously watching the patrolling squads of soldiers.

As the main driving force behind the merger, Gao Dunxian bore the heaviest pressure. If the merger went wrong, he would be the one everyone pointed their fingers at.

He stood in his residence in Akih Lake City, looking out at the small boats on the lake. He raised his head toward the blue sky, which held only a few wisps of clouds, and murmured, “I hope I placed my bet on the right side. Yuanqiang Commercial Association, Zhou Yuanqiang… I hope you don’t let me down.”

The bright morning sun managed to dispel some of the gloom hanging over the Alliance.

The weather on the plateau was somewhat similar to that of the wasteland, except the temperature during the day was slightly higher in the wasteland, while the nights on the plateau were much milder. Clouds were rare in both places. In the sixth year of the apocalypse, the blue sky had been purified until it looked like a lake without a speck of dust, so clear it seemed it could hold nothing at all.

When a dark cloud appeared on the edge of the horizon, it was so glaring against the pristine blue that anyone who glanced at the sky would notice it immediately.

From the moment it appeared, that dark cloud—only as wide as a finger at first—emitted a faint, rumbling thunder.

“Look, what is that?”

The rapidly moving dark cloud woke the settlements below. Everyone looked up. Even those hiding in their homes were drawn out by the growing cries, standing in the streets and shading their eyes from the sun to stare at the rumbling dark cloud in the sky.

“Is it a gross monster?”

Superstitious people had already knelt, bowing sincerely and muttering incantations that no one else could understand.

Only a few knowledgeable individuals, linking this to the recent events in the Alliance, had a vague idea of what it was. Once they confirmed their suspicions, their expressions shifted through surprise, fear, joy, and excitement. This mix of emotions left them staring blankly at the sky.

Within that “dark cloud,” every pilot was exceptionally exhilarated. A super-formation of 2,000 fighter jets was something they had trained for, but it was still heart-pounding.

“Listen up, boys! Let’s show them the seven-colored umbrellas on our wings. Let the air currents under our bellies flip up the girls’ skirts and show us their panties… Hahahaha!”

The only person in the Air Force who could speak so recklessly was none other than Air Force Commander Dali. Having not flown for a long time, Dali couldn’t contain himself during such a low-risk mission. After begging for days, he finally received the Boss’s permission to act as the super-formation leader, guiding 2,000 massive fighter jets over the Lanxi Plateau.

Infected by their commander’s enthusiasm, every pilot felt their blood boil. Under command, the entire formation suddenly dived, sweeping toward the first stopping point on the Lanxi Plateau: Akih Lake City. The formation would fly collectively at an altitude of 200 meters over the city. The tiered rows of jets, when spread out, formed an overwhelming canopy that seemed to cover the sky above Akih Lake City.

The people below looked at the fighter jets that were almost within reach. The missiles, glinting coldly, seemed to be right over their heads.

The glow of the “seven-colored umbrella” emblem enveloped the entirety of Akih Lake in that instant. The massive swarm of jets swept past like locusts, their powerful air currents causing clothes to flap violently. Even though they knew where these planes came from, the people below were still terrified into screams by the sheer, unimaginable scale of the fleet.

Under the force of the massive draft, scraps of paper, cloth, and plastic bags in the streets were suddenly sent flying into the air.

Although the flyover lasted only two or three minutes before the fleet ascended and flew toward more distant locations, those few minutes gave the people infinite food for thought. The originally powerful image of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was magnified infinitely in that moment, completely replacing the Alliance in their minds.

Everyone who witnessed it knew that this massive fleet of fighter jets would be protecting them as well. The protective radiance of the seven-colored umbrella had finally reached this plateau.

Gao Dunxian could finally let his heart rest. He lay back safely on his balcony, feeling the breeze blowing off Akih Lake.

In Xishi City, after the fleet had passed, Zhou Haiming leaned back in his chair. He stared blankly at the sky, silent for a long time. His heart, once full of passion and ambition, had been frozen instantly. Finally, he closed his eyes in pain, letting all his dreams turn into mist.

In May of the sixth year of the apocalypse, the once-mighty Lanxi Alliance was officially dissolved and merged into the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. With this, the Commercial Association’s territory expanded to one-fifth of the continent, with a population of over six million, accounting for one-third of the continent’s surviving population.

Chapter 332: Enforced

The highway was empty. The snow had long since vanished, replaced by lush green trees and vast stretches of abandoned farmland along the roadside.

A massive convoy of vehicles traveled down this desolate road. It was composed of various trucks and vans of all sizes, advancing forward in a grand procession. The highway had been cleared of debris long ago; not a single abandoned car blocked their path, nor did any of those annoying zombies appear.

Some of the trucks were loaded with suits of battle armor, while others carried soldiers with grim, tense expressions.

Though it was May, the sunlight in the vicinity of the city still carried a lingering chill. The soldiers riding in the back of the trucks were forced to wear heavy coats, rubbing their hands together for warmth. Not a single person spoke. Aside from the roar of the engines, no other sound could be heard from the entire convoy.

The line of vehicles stretched out like a long dragon, numbering at least three or four hundred. Their collective roar vibrated through the surrounding area.

The convoy finally came to a halt when they reached a vast, open expanse. The soldiers responsible for security immediately jumped down from the truck beds, fanning out in all directions. They would protect the convoy’s safety and intercept any stray zombies that might approach.

In the middle of the convoy were several business vans. A group of guards dispersed to provide protection before the General and his high-ranking officers stepped out.

The cold wind whipped around them. Having just left the warmth of the vans, the General and his men couldn’t help but shiver. They looked at the quiet surroundings and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

As if they had rehearsed it many times before, as soon as the convoy stopped, all soldiers—save for those on guard duty—began unloading the battle armor and weapons from the trucks, along with tents, heating clothes, strong liquor, and other supplies.

In mere moments, a series of tents were erected along the highway. The General’s command center, consisting of over a dozen tents of various sizes, was protected at the very center.

They weren’t too far from the city, but there was no need to worry about the zombies there. The zombies in the nearby villages and towns had been wiped out long ago; there were almost no stragglers left behind. However, the previous clearing operations had stopped here. The area beyond this point belonged to an Air Force base of a certain Northern Military Region—a restricted zone that humans in the end times were absolutely unwilling to face.

Because of the existence of military spirits, military bases were forbidden lands for humanity. Given their terrifying capabilities, any attempt to challenge them without absolute strength was a futile endeavor.

The General certainly knew how terrifying the military spirits were, but the current situation forced his hand. He had to move against the military base because he could no longer afford to wait.

The emergence of Crystal Warriors had reversed the previous situation where they were constantly on the defensive. By utilizing the advantages of the Crystal Warriors, they had started with towns, moved to counties, and eventually cities. Now, one-third of the cities in the north had fallen into the General’s hands. Although the results were brilliant, the price paid was equally immense, as the lives of elite soldiers were constantly being consumed.

By controlling a large number of cities, they could continuously settle immigrants, and desperately needed supplies were replenished, allowing their power to grow steadily.

However, their military weakness was an unchangeable fact. In the reclaimed cities, the limitation of weapon resources severely restricted the army’s development. By relying on industrial power, they could manufacture light weapons and equip the infantry with better firearms. But that wasn’t enough; light weapons could never be the protagonists of the end times. Only heavy weapons could take their strength to the next level.

Manufacturing might be feasible, but many electronic components—after years of neglect and freezing weather—rarely remained compatible, making mass production impossible.

The rapid rise of the southern faction was another factor. Although their true strength couldn’t be fully gauged, the fighter jets seen in the sky made the General, who was well-versed in modern warfare, understand the terror of lacking air superiority. He didn’t care if the southern faction was friend or foe; if his own fist wasn’t hard enough, everything else was just empty talk.

It was for this reason that the General had to turn his eyes toward military bases where he could quickly obtain large quantities of weapons. The Air Force base near the city had been their target for a month.

With massive resources, the Crystal Warriors they produced now had even more powerful armor, yet its weight had been continuously reduced. After more than a year of development, the tactics and equipment of the Crystal Warriors had gradually matured, carving out a path unique to them.

The Crystal Warriors were the ace in the General’s hand. It was thanks to them that he had eventually annexed several other northern factions. Although he didn’t know how far the Crystal Warriors could go in challenging the military spirits inside the base, the General knew he had to make a breakthrough. The large number of fighter jets in the Air Force base was a piece he had to obtain, no matter how great the cost.

“Send out the word. Execute according to plan.”

The General’s tone was devoid of emotion, cold as the ice and snow of December. He stared at the distant sky; his greatest hope was that no patrolling military spirits would be piloting the fighter jets. This would determine whether the entire plan succeeded.

Their luck wasn’t bad. The guarding soldiers sent no signals indicating enemy activity.

At the General’s command, as many as five thousand Crystal Warriors began donning their heavy battle armor with the help of other soldiers. The design of this heavy battle armor was highly optimized, its sharp, distinct angles making the warriors look like individual mechs. Their weaponry still consisted primarily of cold weapons; after all, given their immense strength, cold weapons could better demonstrate their power.

To adapt to the cold northern weather, a heating system had been added to the armor, capable of maintaining the internal temperature for a short period.

When dealing with cities, Crystal Warriors usually attacked in waves to maintain a steady rhythm and suppress the zombies. More importantly, when fighting urban zombies, this gave the Crystal Warriors enough time to rest and recover from their weakened state. Because of this, a small number of Crystal Warriors could often use time to their advantage, slowly grinding down and reclaiming a city.

But a military base was different, especially an Air Force base. They had to achieve a lethal strike with the utmost speed. Otherwise, once the military spirits were alerted and managed to scramble the jets, it would be a disaster.

The preparations for the Crystal Warriors didn’t take long. In half an hour, the five thousand strongest Crystal Warriors under the General were fully armed and lined up on the highway.

“You will be transported by trucks for a charge that will take you to within one thousand meters of the Air Force base. At that point, the defensive structures will prevent the trucks from proceeding further. What you need to do is activate your crystals, charge into the base, and your primary objective is to take control of and protect the fighter jets. Do not let any zombies get near them.”

The squad leaders repeated the General’s orders. Once everyone understood, the five thousand Crystal Warriors clumsily climbed into the trucks.

The roar of engines sounded once more. The five thousand Crystal Warriors required over two hundred vehicles for transport. Without their crystals activated, the weight of the heavy battle armor combined with the imperfect joint technology made it difficult for them to move. They were essentially sitting ducks inside iron coffins.

The temporary camp was five kilometers from the Air Force base. This area was already within the base’s restricted zone; it was desolate and overgrown with trees.

Watching the convoy advance like a long dragon, the General stared until they were out of sight. For him, committing five thousand elite Crystal Warriors to this battle was an all-in gamble. If they succeeded, the captured fighter jets would compensate for all losses. If they failed, they would lose their chance at survival in the end times.

Without the Crystal Warriors, the zombies, which could congregate and launch an attack at any time, could send the settlements under his control straight to hell.

To deal with military spirits, one had to be fast and ruthless.

The abilities of a military spirit were several times greater than when they were alive. Combined with the fact that their baseline skills were already much higher than an average person’s, this enhancement made them roughly ten times as capable as a common man. This was undeniably terrifying; their raw power was on par with a Crystal Warrior using Level 4 crystals. Furthermore, they could utilize the weapons in the base, and their superior equipment was something the Crystal Warriors could not match.

However, military spirits also had a fatal flaw: they couldn’t operate complex instruments like radar systems to detect enemies in advance as they had when they were alive.

The destruction of the end times meant that the zombies living in the military base had also damaged some military facilities. Sensitive equipment had long been destroyed. Although the military base had an independent power system, several areas had lost power over the years.

As a single entity, every corner of the military base was interconnected. If certain parts stopped working, it would affect the base’s overall performance.

It was because of this that the military spirits would not discover the truck convoy and make defensive preparations early. By exploiting this fact and their familiarity with the base layout, the General was confident in bringing the convoy to within five kilometers of the base without alerting them.

Since speed and ruthlessness were required, the truck convoy transporting the Crystal Warriors had to charge forward recklessly.

Just as planned, as the convoy neared the outskirts of the military base, various defensive works made it impossible to proceed further. Amidst the screeching of brakes, the vehicles came to a halt. The more than two hundred vehicles kicked up rolling clouds of dust in the flat terrain, which the wind then carried into the military base, blanketing a large area.

As soon as the brakes were applied, the tense Crystal Warriors did not hesitate to activate the exciters on the backs of their heads. Amidst a blinding light, they felt a surge of immense power.

“Charge! Charge for me…!”

The squad leaders bellowed. Having activated their crystals, the Crystal Warriors nimbly jumped down from the truck beds. They brandished their battle blades and charged toward the military base. Crystal Warriors poured out of the twondred-plus vehicles, quickly crowding the area in front of the base.

It was a massive charge. Stimulated by Level 5 and Level 6 crystals, they seemed to be wearing a halo of invincibility at that moment.

The various layers of barbed wire at the perimeter were like nothing to the Crystal Warriors. Their massive impact force pulled down entire sections. Some Crystal Warriors swung their battle blades, which weighed tens of kilograms, as if they were small pocket knives, cleanly slicing through the wire.

The perimeter wall surrounding the Air Force base was like wet paper. The frenzied Crystal Warriors simply thrust their battle blades into the structure.

Bricks shattered, sending up clouds of cement dust. The sharp and hardened battle blades pierced through the wall. With a great roar, a dozen Crystal Warriors used the momentum of their blades to smash through and push down a section of the wall, causing it to collapse with a thunderous boom.

The rising dust was dispersed by the charging Crystal Warriors. Since they only had a reinforcement window of about half an hour, every second counted.

The urgency of time allowed for no hesitation. The other Crystal Warriors followed suit, using their strength and letting out guttural roars as they slammed through section after section of the wall. In moments, the front section of the perimeter wall had been reduced to ruins under the charge of the Crystal Warriors.

Air Force bases are generally built on open, flat land. Because they enclose a massive restricted area, they usually don’t have extensive walls for protection like other bases.

When Zhou Yuanqiang attacked the air force base in Guam, there wasn’t even a wall—just a few layers of barbed wire. In terms of defensiveness, the A City air force base was much more thorough than the American ones. Naturally, this increased the difficulty of capturing the base, as breaking through the defenses consumed time, giving the military spirits inside more time to prepare.

Military spirits could use the weapons they were most instinctively familiar with. The more time they were given to prepare, the more tragic the battle would become.

From the roar of the convoy’s arrival, the zombies inside the Air Force base were like cats smelling fish, stirring and moving toward the main entrance. The mutated military spirits pricked up their ears, staring toward the gate.

Due to their unique nature, military spirits were free from the severe rot of ordinary zombies. Their bodies were relatively intact, though the uniforms they wore had long since rotted away over the years, leaving them looking as if they were running naked.

By all logic, military spirits were the elites among zombies, and their reaction speed should have been terrifying.

However, the ones who reacted first were actually the ordinary zombies. Only when they began to move did the military spirits disperse like startled rabbits. Anyone watching would be shocked; they moved as if they were being commanded, scattering to positions just as they would have during wartime, entering a state of combat.

The most terrifying thing about military spirits was that they retained their past skills, allowing them to control various weapons and equipment.

By the time the Crystal Warriors smashed through the wall, some of the faster military spirits had already reached their former posts. These posts revealed their previous duties and branches of service.

In the study of using crystals on biological organisms, Dr. Bai was the ultimate authority. A year of research and refinement had eliminated the state of mental confusion caused by crystal use. As long as one didn’t use an overloaded crystal reinforcement, there was no need to worry about losing one’s mind.

Only a few seconds passed from the moment they broke through the wall and saw the fighter jets on the runway to when they saw the clusters of ordinary zombies starting to move.

“Charge! Don’t give the military spirits a chance!”

The roars continued to ring out. The five thousand crystals moved like a flood, violently slamming into the scattered zombies that came to meet them.

“Rat-tat-tat… Tat… Rat-tat-tat-tat!”

A Type 87 25mm twin-barrel anti-aircraft gun guarding the base had been leveled. Under the operation of a military spirit, it let out a roar. Terrifying anti-aircraft shells swept toward the charging Crystal Warriors. The dense fire and powerful penetration swept across the field in the blink of an eye.

This type of anti-aircraft gun normally required a three-man crew, but now a single military spirit had it operational, strafing frantically.

The heavy battle armor offered no more protection than paper against the immense piercing power. Under the high-velocity fire, over a dozen unlucky Crystal Warriors screamed as they fell directly on the path of the charge. The 25mm twin anti-aircraft gun left gaping holes in their bodies; blood geysered out, and their strength drained away instantly.

Faced with firepower that meant instant death upon contact, even the fearless Crystal Warriors couldn’t help but hesitate for a fraction of a second.

“Don’t stop! Keep charging… Gah!”

A squad leader brandishing a battle blade screamed as he was hit by the anti-aircraft gun. His entire body was yanked by the massive impact force, dragging him back two or three meters before he fell. In his chest was a bloody hole larger than a fist; minced meat and blood flowed out together, staining the metallic battle armor a deep crimson.

The charging Crystal Warriors did not stop because of the death of a leader; instead, they swarmed into the Air Force base with even greater frenzy.

The massive boost in ability allowed the Crystal Warriors’ running speed to reach the ordinary zombies in a flash. Without a moment’s pause, they slammed into them with sheer force. Even the walls couldn’t withstand that impact, let alone these rotting ordinary zombies.

Anyone hit was sent flying, their bodies completely falling apart in mid-air before crashing onto the moss-covered runway.

The threat of the military spirits meant the Crystal Warriors didn’t dare get bogged down by the ordinary zombies. The warriors brandished their battle blades, hacking and slashing wildly, hewing down every ordinary zombie in their path and trampling over their remains as they advanced.

“Go to hell!”

With a roar, a frantic Crystal Warrior thrust his battle blade into a zombie’s chest, shattering flesh and bone. Then, using his immense strength, he flicked the weapon up, sending the zombie flying several meters away. With blood-red eyes, he glared at the anti-aircraft gun strafing in the distance, raised his battle blade high, and charged forward without fear.

But the fast-moving anti-aircraft shells pinned the Crystal Warrior to the ground mid-charge…

Chapter 333: A Grievous Price

“Sniper!”

The sight of dozens of elite Crystal Warriors being incapacitated in an instant pierced the hearts of the dozen or so team leaders. They roared frantically into the radios built into their heavy battle armor.

Several Crystal Warriors clad in light battle armor suddenly dove to the ground mid-charge. Propping up large-caliber sniper rifles, they unleashed a thunderous volley aimed at the anti-aircraft gun that was still strafing wildly. These anti-material sniper rifles punched directly through the frontal armor of the gun, tearing a hole straight through the chest of the military spirit operating it.

Impacted by the massive force, even the powerful military spirit was sent flying, landing several meters away.

A massive bloody hole appeared in its chest. The horrific wound had mangled half of its torso, and a dark green fluid surged out, carrying bits of pulverized flesh. Much like a human, its limbs twitched convulsively.

With the military spirit no longer at the controls, the lethal anti-aircraft gun finally fell silent. Across the entire airport runway, the only remaining sound was that of Crystal Warriors hacking through ordinary zombies.

Military spirits were a well-known yet mysterious breed. Their fame came from their sheer ferocity; their mystery stemmed from the fact that almost no one who challenged them lived to tell the tale. The dead were many, the survivors few, and the reports they brought back only served to inflate the creature’s terrifying reputation, leaving people lost in a fog of the unknown.

Seeing the anti-aircraft gun stop, the Crystal Warriors—who had been under the shadow of death—breathed a sigh of relief and charged toward the nearby fighter jets.

However, the military spirit that had just been shot through the chest, suffering a fatal wound and even closing its eyes, suddenly stopped twitching. It snapped its hideous eyes open and scrambled to its feet in a few swift motions, leaping back onto the anti-aircraft gun. It slammed the dual barrels down and opened fire once more. Tongues of fire erupted from the muzzles, blowing several Crystal Warriors away and turning them into cold corpses.

“How is this possible? Damn it…”

The tenacity of the military spirits once again forced those who underestimated them to pay a price.

The Crystal Warriors acting as snipers watched in disbelief. Several sniper rifles synchronized, and amidst a simultaneous roar, the frontal armor of the anti-aircraft gun was blasted away. The military spirit hiding behind it was riddled with holes. The massive destructive force tore it apart; specifically, a shot that bypassed the armor and hit its head directly caused it to shatter. The fragmented corpse finally slumped over, permanently neutralized.

No one could have predicted that the counterattack of a single military spirit would result in dozens of Crystal Warriors becoming cold corpses. At the thought that there were at least a hundred military spirits in this air force base, everyone’s expression darkened.

As the military spirits’ abilities improved, their reaction times quickened; tasks that would normally take minutes were handled in less than one.

In truth, less than a minute had passed from the moment the anti-aircraft gun opened fire to the death of the military spirit. The other military spirits, following their living instincts, had already moved to their respective posts. Those who were pilots rushed toward the fighter jets; those who were ground crew dragged missile racks toward the planes; those assigned to radar and command were all taking their positions.

For the Crystal Warriors, the greatest threat was the pilot spirits—they would attempt to force the jets into the air.

The numerous parked J-11 and J-8B fighter jets were the key objectives of this mission. Unleashing their absolute strength, the Crystal Warriors scattered the ordinary zombies in moments. They ignored the clawing and biting of the masses; as long as a zombie wasn’t directly in their path, they let it be. Over a distance of a thousand meters, the warriors using Level 7 crystals arrived first. One of them swung his blade directly at a military spirit that was climbing into a cockpit.

Driven by its instinctive reaction speed, the military spirit’s priority was naturally boarding the aircraft. Under attack, its quick reflexes allowed it to kick off the fuselage and leap into the air…

“Grandson of a…!”

Seeing his strike miss, Zhu Zhangze, his Level 7 crystal activated, cursed loudly.

The military spirit that had leaped into the air landed steadily beside the jet. Without pausing, it kicked off the ground again, lunging at Zhu Zhangze before he could even turn around.

Under normal circumstances, such a lightning-fast pounce would have frightened Zhu Zhangze out of his wits. But things were different now. Possessing twenty-one times the capability of a normal human, his reinforced body could withstand immense impact. More importantly, the protection of his heavy battle armor meant he had no fear of a zombie’s attack; their claws might be sharp, but they couldn’t penetrate heavy plating.

“I was waiting for this!”

With a great shout, the military spirit slammed directly into Zhu Zhangze. It wrapped its arms around his battle armor, its maw snapping open to bite down. Zhu Zhangze let go of his battle blade and threw his arms around the military spirit in a counter-embrace, his arm muscles bulging as he locked the creature in a death grip.

“Go to hell!” Having experienced this dozens of times, Zhu Zhangze was well-versed in the technique. He constricted his arms around the spirit.

With twenty-one times the strength of a man, his arm’s crushing force was immense. As he squeezed, the sound of the military spirit’s skeleton shattering echoed out. A large amount of green-black fluid poured from the creature’s mouth. The splintered bones pierced its internal organs. Like a human whose ribcage is crushed, the bones stabbed into the heart, turning the interior into a bloody pulp.

For Crystal Warriors, charging the front lines was a basic combat method. They encountered all kinds of emergencies, and those who survived accumulated vast amounts of combat experience. Walking out of zombie hordes alive time and again had forged them into warriors of unparalleled combat prowess.

The military spirit held by Zhu Zhangze was strong, but caught in the grip of a Crystal Warrior nearly ten times its strength, there was only one outcome. Its entire skeleton was crushed into fragments, and it fell to the ground like a sack of mud. Without the support of its bones, even if it wasn’t technically dead, it had lost all ability to move.

When Zhu Zhangze released his grip, the pilot spirit slid down and collapsed just as he expected, twitching on the ground, unable to cause any further harm.

Retrieving his fallen blade, Zhu Zhangze decapitated the spirit without hesitation. Despite their monstrous state, Zhu Zhangze felt a shred of respect for these military spirits who possessed such strong wills; at least it meant that in their previous lives, they were true soldiers.

After giving the headless spirit a quick military salute, Zhu Zhangze looked up at his teammates. They were using various methods to deal with the spirits attempting to board the planes, successfully securing the aircraft. More team members were charging toward the base command center and the hangars.

The crystal snipers responsible for monitoring the entire battlefield took up positions on rooftops and towers. Setting up their rifles, they began picking off the exposed military spirits one by one. They were the primary force for dealing with the spirits and provided fire cover, suppressing any potential counter-battery fire.

Everything was going smoothly. The deaths of dozens of Crystal Warriors had secured the current advantageous position—a price undeniably worth paying.

As an air force base, the facility was filled with various defensive weapons. Although half of the hundred or so military spirits had been eliminated in an instant, those who had fully reacted were entering combat mode, operating weapons to stop the invaders.

Several armored vehicles roared out from beside a hangar. The heavy machine guns mounted on their roofs barked joyfully, strafing the Crystal Warriors.

“Get down!”

The charging Crystal Warriors instinctively hit the dirt.

The whistling of “whoosh-whoosh” bullets tore through those who didn’t react fast enough. Heavy battle armor was still unable to withstand heavy machine gun fire, and they became sacrifices to the military spirits. The armored vehicles appeared suddenly, and a single burst saw a dozen Crystal Warriors neutralized, their bodies spinning as they fell.

Even for those pinned to the ground, bullets tore through the earth and the rear armor of their suits, pinning them to the soil.

Blood geysered from those hit, forming small pillars of red. These Crystal Warriors rolled on the runway, howling in pain; their reinforced bodies granted them much greater vitality, but it only meant their suffering lasted longer. The massive wounds and hemorrhaging would drain their life force. Even if they survived by some miracle, once the reinforced state ended and the period of weakness arrived, they wouldn’t pull through. It was a dead end regardless.

The crystal snipers responded quickly, aiming at the front of the armored vehicles and firing.

The high-speed armored vehicles buckled under the impact. The powerful anti-material rounds punched through the frontal armor, wrecking the engines. Amidst billowing clouds of black smoke, the vehicles lost control and swerved.

Another armored vehicle, unable to dodge in time, slammed violently into the first, causing it to flip and roll.

Anyone who thought military spirits were only capable of this much was sorely mistaken. If that were the case, how could they have fended off past raids by tens of thousands of people?

Before the rolling armored vehicles even stopped, other defensive weapons began to activate. These weapons, designed for ground and low-altitude defense, were all heavy-duty. To them, the Crystal Warriors’ armor was like paper; any contact resulted in death or severe injury.

In the past, many factions had set their sights on military bases, but back then, people’s equipment was primitive, offering no defense. Ordinary zombies alone could inflict massive casualties, let alone military spirits capable of using weapons. Among the military spirits, some used rifles; while useless against Crystal Warriors, they were lethal to ordinary soldiers.

Their living instincts allowed them to use cover and tactical fire, unlike ordinary zombies who only knew how to charge mindlessly.

When the General decided to attack the airbase, it was after meticulous calculation and reconnaissance. The bloody lessons of the past were hard to forget, but one could not ignore that today’s equipment was incomparable to what they had before. Five thousand Crystal Warriors in heavy battle armor represented the General’s strongest force.

Although the airbase had about a hundred military spirits, the Crystal Warriors were fundamentally stronger in terms of raw power. The terror of the military spirits lay in their ability to pilot aircraft; the primary goal of the operation was to prevent them from boarding the jets and utilizing their full potential.

So far, things were going incredibly well. More and more jets were being secured by Crystal Warriors, and even the hangar doors were under their guard.

Having suffered over a hundred casualties, the five thousand Crystal Warriors fell upon the remaining military spirits like a flood. Once restricted, the powerful military spirits were only at the level of high-level zombies. The counterattacks from those wielding rifles were futile, their bullets clattering harmlessly against the heavy armor.

In contrast, the Crystal Warriors fired back as they ran, closing the distance to swing their battle blades and cleave the spirits in two.

The battle had shifted from a brutal opening to a one-sided slaughter. It seemed destined for a perfect conclusion.

Suddenly, the roar of a J-11 engine erupted. Under everyone’s gaze, the jet began to taxi down the runway. Through the cockpit canopy, which had not yet closed, a hideous face could be seen—a military spirit was piloting the craft. Despite years of neglected maintenance, peeling paint, and rusted weapon Racks, no one doubted its ability to fire missiles.

“Damn it! How did this happen?”

Shouts of frustration and the bitterness of near-failure rang out over the comms.

Only the General remained calm, commanding, “Snipers, destroy it.”

The crystal snipers reacted instantly. Their enhanced neural capacity made them worthy of the title “deadshots.” They swiftly maneuvered their anti-material rifles, aiming at the jet as it sped down the runway. Just as it was about to lift off and soar into the sky… a dozen snipers pulled their triggers nearly simultaneously.

A dozen rounds struck from different angles.

The cockpit glass shattered. The military spirit pilot was hit by two rounds, its head bursting like a melon. Three more rounds slammed into the rear engine nozzles, wreaking havoc inside the engine and causing it to stall instantly.

Even more rounds hit the ordnance hanging beneath the fuselage. Upon impact, the warheads were triggered, suddenly compressing the air. The resulting explosion was catastrophic, as multiple fireballs erupted from different points on the aircraft. Finally, the entire jet blew apart, its remaining dozen missiles igniting in a massive fireball.

Shrapnel from the jet was more lethal than bullets. Several nearby Crystal Warriors were struck and fell. Even more zombies were swept away, never to rise again. A massive crater was blasted into the runway. Flying concrete debris shredded nearby buildings, riddling them with holes.

While everyone was stunned by the power of the explosion, the General’s order sent them charging like fierce wolves into the heart of the airbase to purge the remaining military spirits.

Radar operators were found still numbly pressing buttons on equipment that had long since been destroyed. When the Crystal Warriors closed in, the spirits tried to fight back, but it was useless; they were cut down where they stood.

The entire operation, from start to finish, took only ten minutes. Not a single military spirit or ordinary zombie was left standing in the entire air force base.

Taking advantage of their reinforced state before it wore off, the Crystal Warriors cleared the corpses like they were handling chickens, piling them up. They hauled fuel hoses from the storage tanks and doused the bodies in fuel, setting them ablaze.

Over the years, the fuel in the jets’ tanks had mostly dried up. The J-11 that had almost taken off had only done so with the help of a ground crew spirit that had added half a tank of fuel. Much of the base’s massive fuel reserves had evaporated, leaving only a fraction behind.

When the General led his convoy into the airbase, he looked at the wreckage and smelled the foul air with a sense of profound emotion. He was stepping into a familiar place. During the era of peace, he had inspected this base once; he still had some memories of it.

Unfortunately, the world had changed, and the people were gone.

The final tally of dead Crystal Warriors reached nearly two hundred. Most had died under the direct fire of the anti-aircraft guns. Ultimately, no one had anticipated the horizontal firepower of those guns, nor the intelligence of the military spirits who operated them. The armored vehicles had also been lethal, and the activation of various other defensive systems was why the death toll had climbed so high.

Even with a month of preparation, five thousand Crystal Warriors, and a lightning strike tactic, the casualties were still this significant. One could only wonder how many would have died in a frontal assault against the base’s full arsenal.

An air force base, which had relatively weak ground defenses, was this difficult to take. What about an Army base? Those had massive tank divisions, artillery groups, and deep defensive lines. Such depth would give them more time to prepare for a lightning strike. Once the tanks started rolling, the Crystal Warriors would be powerless.

To deal with tanks, one needed equal Force. Only with the advantage of fighter jets and attack helicopters—the natural predators of tanks—could they hope to win.

Although the cost of nearly two hundred elite Crystal Warriors was steep, looking at the jets parked on the runway and in the hangars, it was undeniably worth it. An aviation division with three regiments—over seventy fighter jets in total—had fallen into the General’s hands, effectively doubling his strength.

Chapter 334: The Great Migration

A strategy of foresight. The numerous agents deployed two years in advance had almost perfectly replicated the details of the General’s raid. Within a small memory card lay an explanatory document and a video recording of the battle. Only three days after the General had seized the air force base, that tiny memory card appeared on Zhou Yuanqiang’s desk.

Xu Yuhai, who delivered the intelligence, remained expressionless. Not a single muscle in his face twitched as he stood calmly before the Boss’s desk.

After reviewing the explanatory document and the video, which lasted only a dozen minutes, Zhou Yuanqiang closed the file with a cold laugh. He leaned back in his chair and said, “Your Intelligence Department did well this time. Record a merit for everyone involved. Let them know that regardless of where they are, the Commercial Association is their greatest support.”

Xu Yuhai nodded. “Yes, Boss!”

The merger of the Lanxi Plateau had increased the Commercial Association’s population base significantly, putting the entire organization into a phase of massive absorption. Zhou Yuanqiang currently had no interest in this “General” located far to the north. What could twenty-three J-11s, twenty-four J-8Bs, and twenty-four J-7s possibly achieve? A mere seventy-one fighter jets were insignificant against the Commercial Association’s fleet of two thousand five hundred.

What the Commercial Association was currently debating was whether the three million people on the Lanxi Plateau required a mass migration.

The Lanxi Plateau was too far from the center of the Commercial Association, which made management difficult. For a massive nation with advanced communication and transportation, such distances might not be an issue. However, in the complex environment of the post-apocalyptic world, administration was fraught with difficulties and fell far short of being seamless.

“Is there anything else?”

Looking at Xu Yuhai, who was still standing by the desk, Zhou Yuanqiang closed his eyes, remembering the first time he had met the two brothers. Back then, they were holding wooden pitchforks, their young faces taut as they fought zombies for a few crystals just to trade for a pitiful amount of food to survive.

Who could have imagined that in two and a half years, the elder brother would become the intelligence chief, controlling the largest network in the Commercial Association, while the younger brother would become its primary military power, ruling over thousands of aircraft and serving as the Commander-in-Chief of the Air Force?

Who could have predicted such a transformation?

Xu Yuhai still lacked any expression as he spoke. “Boss. Regarding the Lanxi Alliance…”

Zhou Yuanqiang nodded slightly, his expression weary. He knew that mutual slaughter would only lead humanity toward extinction, but sometimes, there was no other choice. For the Commercial Association to remain stable, unstable elements had to be eliminated, and the recently incorporated Lanxi Alliance had far too many of them.

“Is everything under control? Has it caused any panic?”

Faced with Zhou Yuanqiang’s concern, Xu Yuhai’s expression finally shifted slightly. “Boss, please rest assured. Everything is under control.”

Zhou Yuanqiang opened his eyes, then closed them again, saying softly, “Send them on their way. If they have families, treat them well. Give them the best benefits the Commercial Association offers.” He didn’t open his eyes again as he signaled with his hand. “Go now. I’m tired and want to rest.”

Xu Yuhai nodded and turned to leave. As he closed the office door, he couldn’t help but look once more at his Boss’s young face.

In June, after a month of integration, the assimilation of the Lanxi Plateau was finally complete. The Commercial Association ultimately decided to proceed with the Great Migration. The Association’s power could not afford to be spread too thin, and the Lanxi Plateau’s conditions offered limited help for development. The over three million people would be moved to Tianzhou City to fully develop the Tianzhou Plain.

On the eve of the Great Migration, in Zhou Haiming’s residence, a stranger sat in his study. The visitor silently pushed a small syringe toward him without saying a word.

Zhou Haiming’s expression shifted through several emotions before he finally let out a long sigh. “I thought you might let me off,” he said, looking like a hero in his twilight years. “I didn’t expect it to come so soon.” He looked at the stranger. “You are Zhou Yuanqiang’s top subordinate, Xu Yuhai?”

The stranger was indeed Xu Yuhai. He nodded and said without emotion, “The Boss said I should show you respect. That is why I came personally.”

Zhou Haiming chuckled. “I appreciate Chairman Zhou’s concern.” He looked at the syringe on the desk. “Can I see my family? You know… one last time.”

Xu Yuhai shook his head, silent.

Zhou Haiming’s face contorted. He lunged for something under his desk, but his movement froze halfway.

“Are you looking for this pistol?”

Xu Yuhai held up a high-powered handgun and sighed. “Now you know why the merciful Boss has no choice but to send you on your way. It is because your blood carries too much resentment and ambition. You are like a time bomb. You might not explode now, but one day, when the Commercial Association is at its weakest, you will detonate and push us into the abyss of destruction.”

Zhou Haiming’s face turned hideous. “So you all know of my resentment?”

Xu Yuhai remained calm. “Everyone has moments of resentment. But in the face of overwhelming power, one must choose either death or submission. Chairman Zhou, time is running out. Please begin your journey. Your family will be cared for by the Association. You can leave in peace.”

Zhou Haiming stared fixedly at Xu Yuhai, gritting his teeth. “I want to know… who else is going with me?”

“Anyone who harbors resentment in their heart goes with you.”

Hearing this, Zhou Haiming slumped into his chair, staring at the syringe. He closed his eyes in agony. “I was the one who harmed them… I brought this upon them!”

Alongside the bombshell news of the Great Migration, it was announced that the former Chairman of the Lanxi Alliance, Zhou Haiming—who had poured his heart and soul into the Alliance for years—had died suddenly in his study from exhaustion just before the migration began.

Once the news broke, regardless of what people thought of him in life, his status as the founder of the Alliance caused many to lament. Tributes poured in for the former Chairman who had “worked himself to death.” For a time, the entire Alliance was shrouded in a faint veil of mourning.

The Chairman of the Commercial Association personally flew in from Qingyuan City by private jet to award Zhou Haiming the Seven-Colored Grand Medal of the Commercial Association, honoring his immense contributions to the Alliance.

Against this backdrop, the disappearance of a group of Zhou Haiming’s subordinates and several people from various settlements went entirely unnoticed. A few hundred people were nothing compared to the three million living on the Lanxi Plateau. With a single sentence—“send them on their way”—these hundreds became the dust of history, likely never to be remembered by anyone again.

Regardless, life had to go on. From the moment the migration was decided, the people of the Lanxi Plateau began preparing, packing their belongings to leave the place they had called home for years.

A massive fleet of transport airships arrived empty for the first time. Starting from the smaller settlements, they loaded group after group into the gondolas. Once airborne, they headed toward the Tianzhou Plain. The journey of over 800 kilometers would take about six and a half hours, provided everything went smoothly.

The Commercial Association’s logistical capabilities had made a qualitative leap. They could now move over 100,000 people at once—a world of difference compared to previous migrations. Rapidly developed troop transport airships could carry 500 to 600 soldiers each. These, mixed with the cargo airships, formed the backbone of the migration effort.

The entire migration would last a full month, a truly massive undertaking.

On the borders of the Lanxi Plateau, over 300,000 soldiers stood guard, protecting the region’s security. These soldiers were the first group the Commercial Association took over. Their stability was key to maintaining order on the plateau and ensuring the defensive lines remained operational.

Now, the large numbers of wandering Zombie Hunters had vanished, as had the crystal traders who used to buy crystals from the soldiers.

Standing on the border, which featured a sophisticated defense system built over several years, the soldiers felt lethargic due to the heat, lounging lazily at their posts. In the past, none of them would have been idle. To them, every wandering zombie was a stack of Seven-Colored Currency; securing the crystal from its head meant a boost in income.

The most active people here hadn’t been the hunters, but the crystal peddlers. Taking advantage of the fact that soldiers couldn’t leave their posts, they bought crystals from the soldiers at rates lower than the official exchange. Once they collected enough, they would return to the city to trade them for Seven-Colored Currency at the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s bank branches.

Though the zombies were numerous, they couldn’t withstand the day-and-night hunting of 300,000 soldiers. Their numbers dwindled steadily.

As time passed, zombies no longer posed a threat to the Lanxi Plateau, and fewer appeared near the outposts. Whenever a zombie was spotted, the soldiers would gleefully swarm it, kill it, and dig out its crystal. Through this cycle, since the Association began buying crystals, every soldier stationed there had made a small fortune. Some had a few thousand Seven-Colored Currency, others tens of thousands.

With the decrease in local zombies, the hunters had to cross the border into unknown regions to find prey.

Between the mass of hunters and the thinning zombie ranks, almost no zombies had appeared before the soldiers in the last six months. Consequently, the defensive line had become little more than a formality. Having lost their extra income, the soldiers had returned to a dull, monotonous life.

To prevent any accidents during the migration, several reconnaissance airships were deployed, and a temporary airfield was established at Akih Lake City. An aviation division was stationed there for daily border patrols. Simultaneously, ten military airships arrived; they hung in the sky over the border in two rotating shifts of five, swapping every ten days.

Several soldiers huddled under a tree during the scorching midday sun. Having just been relieved from their shift, they looked up at the five military airships suspended in the sky.

“Squad leader, did you hear? It sounds like we’re going to be disbanded and turned into ordinary civilians.”

A soldier who had heard a rumor somewhere spoke up in dissatisfaction. “Ordinary civilians? Slaving away for a hundred-odd yuan in wages? That’s not as good as being a soldier. One lucky crystal from a high-level zombie is a fortune. Even if the Association’s benefits are good, how can it compare to making money in the army?”

The man addressed as squad leader glanced at him. “Making money in the army? What kind of money have you made in the last six months?”

The soldier grinned sheepishly before cursing, “It’s those damn Zombie Hunters. They haven’t let a single zombie through. They’ve blocked our road to riches.”

“You guys don’t even know the Commercial Association’s regulations,” the squad leader said, tapping them on their heads. “In an actual operation, we aren’t allowed to keep crystals. Even after a battle, there’s specialized personnel to handle them. Don’t say I didn’t warn you—military discipline is very strict. Also, our unit isn’t being disbanded; we’re being restructured. Those who want to stay will undergo training and selection. Those who don’t want to can take a severance payment and live as civilians.”

“What’s your choice, squad leader?”

The squad leader smiled, patting his rifle. “I’m used to this life. How could I leave it? If the unit picks me, I’ll keep serving for my rations.”

The others sighed at his words.

Their homes were gone; most of them were alone in the world with no one to rely on. In the cruelty of the post-apocalyptic world, trusting people was difficult. Serving in the army together in the same squad was a form of fate. They weren’t blood brothers, but they were closer than brothers.

With the squad leader taking the lead, the others didn’t hesitate, declaring they would follow him and keep serving.

The squad leader pointed at the military airships in the sky. “See those? We’ll be part of the same Commercial Association as them now. Tactics and mindset are going to change drastically. I bet the selection process will involve questions about that. Future soldiers won’t just need strength; they’ll need brains. So we need to be prepared and learn some new tactics.”

Many others shared these thoughts, these few being just one example.

By the time July arrived, the Great Migration was nearing its end. The once-bustling Lanxi Plateau felt empty. The cities where people once lived were now desolate and abandoned. Streets were devoid of people; shops were either locked up or left open, but all were empty.

Scraps of paper, rags, and plastic bags blew about in the breeze, making the streets look even more tragic.

The last to leave every city were the rearguard squads of soldiers. They remained for a while after the residents had gone to ensure no one had been left behind.

Even the usually vibrant Akih Lake was silent. Squads of patrolling soldiers walked every street, checking every residence. On the lake, most small boats were tied to wooden pilings. Only one lonely boat drifted with the waves, bobbing up and down.

“Calling Command Center: Confirmed no personnel remaining. Requesting extraction!”

“Request granted. You are cleared for extraction!”

Once it was confirmed that no one was left in the city, the patrolling soldiers marched toward the troop transport airships and vanished into the sky.

After all civilians were confirmed evacuated, massive transport airships appeared on the borders of the Lanxi Plateau to ferry the 300,000 soldiers away in batches. These soldiers weren’t going to the Tianzhou Plain but back to the Wasteland Military Base in Qingyuan City.

Their destiny had been decided when the migration was first planned. During the month of the migration, the Commercial Association had already expanded the Wasteland Military Base and built housing for them.

If things went as planned, only about 200,000 of the 300,000 soldiers would remain in the military. The other 100,000 would be integrated into military-industrial enterprises as workers.

The development of Qingyuan City had reached a bottleneck, so after this migration, Tianzhou City would become the new heavy industrial center. The Third Aircraft Factory, the Special Fighter Jet Factory, the Second Armored Vehicle Factory, and the Third Airship Factory were all established there. Simultaneously, the second and third crystal power plants of Tianzhou City were being constructed.

The food for the sudden influx of three million people would come from the Tianzhou Plain, a massive breadbasket capable of feeding over ten million people.

With the migration complete, the Commercial Association’s population had increased to over six million, pushing the organization into a new phase of breakneck activity. New personnel appointments had to be made, and officials like Gao Dunxian, who had lost their cities, had to be pacified with equivalent positions. Massive numbers of personnel also had to be organized to build the new factories.

August was equally busy, as the Commercial Association operated like a massive, roaring machine.

As if catching a double stroke of luck, following the acquisition of the Lanxi Plateau, the supercarrier—originally planned for a two-and-a-half-year cycle—was announced to be completed eleven months ahead of schedule. This was thanks to the vast natural gas reserves of Lenghu and the hard work of the refinery, which supplied massive amounts of helium to the Airship Factory. The project was finished in just one year and six months.

Upon hearing the news, Zhou Yuanqiang was more excited than if it were the New Year. He paced about, rubbing his hands together.

As the largest project since the founding of the Commercial Association, its value was astronomical. Just the helium inside the two airship gasbags, each the size of the Bird’s Nest aircraft carrier, was worth tens of billions of dollars. And that wasn’t even considering the dual flight decks, the specially developed interceptors, the radar systems, the missile systems…

With all these specialized developments, what could possibly stop Zhou Yuanqiang’s desire to see this behemoth immediately?

“Let’s go. We’re going to take a look at this big guy!”

Chapter 335: The Supercarrier

It took six months from the implementation of the Little Bird project to the finalization of the design.

As soon as the design was complete, the First Airship Factory began laying the keel for Hull Pylon No. 1. Laying the keel for an ordinary airship was not particularly difficult; given the design characteristics of the gondolas, there were few technical hurdles. However, the structural design of the hull pylons—intended to serve as primary support points—meant that the keel-laying process would overturn everything people previously knew about airships.

Due to the sheer scale of Hull Pylon No. 1, the entire First Airship Factory practically revolved around its construction.

Under Zhou Yuanqiang’s signed orders, the production of transport airships, engineering airships, troop transport airships, exploration airships, and urban transport airships was halted. Extraordinary circumstances required extraordinary measures; everything was prioritized toward military manufacturing. The existing fleet of civilian airships was already sufficient to guarantee the normal needs of the Commercial Association. This was the reason Zhou Yuanqiang ordered the cessation of civilian production.

The factory floor originally used to build the Hercules transport airships still stood, and it was there that the keel for Hull Pylon No. 1 was laid.

Massive quantities of composite fiber materials replaced heavy steel. These materials were transported to the First Airship Factory, where over a thousand workers busied themselves with the layout. Drawing on the experience gained from the Hercules transport airship, progress was rapid. Although there were differences in the keel structure, the speed of construction exceeded initial expectations.

With the commencement of Hull Pylon No. 1, the Second Airship Factory also began erecting a massive facility for Hull Pylon No. 2. They adopted a method of building the factory and laying the pylon’s keel simultaneously to accelerate the process. Benefiting from the experience of the First Airship Factory, the second pylon’s progress was not much slower, despite starting a month later.

The manufacturing of a supercarrier was not something the airship factories could achieve alone. It was a culmination of technology, a showcase for the military-technological achievements of a faction.

As Hull Pylons No. 1 and No. 2 were initiated, the Armored Vehicle Factory—responsible for the two levels of flight decks—expanded its workshops. Following the design requirements, they used modular construction methods to begin manufacturing the carrier’s decks.

The technical requirements for a carrier deck were immense; even for sea-based aircraft carriers only 200 meters long, the tech remained a challenge many nations could not overcome. One could only imagine the difficulty now: the length and width of these double-layered decks challenged the limits of human history. Almost every technician and engineer related to steel and metalworking was reassigned to the Armored Vehicle Factory to serve the deck construction.

The development of interceptors, fighters, a new type of bomber, and AWACS (Early Warning and Control) aircraft specifically for the carrier became the largest R&D task for the aircraft factory after the HY-3.

Fortunately, Zhou Yuanqiang was able to provide technical data for these three types of aircraft from the modern world. With a master aircraft designer like Wan Chongshan available, the task was not insurmountable. Most importantly, the sheer size of the supercarrier allowed for slightly lower technical requirements for the aircraft themselves, and the carrier’s high-altitude operating environment further eased the performance demands during takeoff.

Sea-based aircraft carriers have very strict takeoff requirements; if there is a single technical glitch or if the pilot’s skills are not up to par, there is a constant risk of the plane plunging into the ocean.

However, the supercarrier had no such concerns. It possessed a service ceiling of up to 8,000 meters. Even if a plane took a nose-dive, there was plenty of time for the aircraft to regain power and lift in mid-air. But such a scenario was unlikely anyway—with a runway five to six hundred meters long, it was comparable to a ground-based airfield. Almost any pilot would be able to take off with ease.

The task of the armory was to build the missile and radar systems that would serve the supercarrier.

As a mobile fortress in the sky, the supercarrier’s volume was truly incredible—it was mind-bogglingly massive. Although six military airships were assigned as escorts—stationed above, below, left, right, front, and back—this defense was still considered insufficient for the carrier itself. It was estimated that as many as three hundred interceptors would guard the supercarrier’s airspace, yet even that was not enough.

The cost of the supercarrier determined its importance. From the very beginning of the design phase, Zhou Yuanqiang insisted that safety must be the primary concern, with offensive capabilities coming second.

Consequently, a massive number of missiles were integrated into its frame, and anti-aircraft cannons were installed. The radar system, in particular, was the latest model. It was mounted on the carrier itself and also carried by the AWACS aircraft, ensuring that the supercarrier could detect enemy traces as early as possible and maintain absolute safety.

The hull pylons utilized a small-cell gas structure. This guaranteed that even if half of the gas cells were destroyed, the vessel could still descend slowly to the ground. Although this structure increased costs by twenty percent, its safety far exceeded that of a large-cell gas structure.

The construction of the supercarrier truly mobilized every available resource within the Commercial Association.

Over a hundred thousand people served its manufacture. Combined with the steady supply of helium from Lenghu, the pylon construction speed accelerated. Once Pylons 1 and 2 were completed, the Armored Vehicle Factory took over, starting the installation of the lower flight deck between the two pylons.

The scale of this project was monumental. Over a hundred deck plates were hoisted into place by super-cranes for assembly and welding.

At the time, Zhou Yuanqiang had considered having Li Xiao film the birth of the supercarrier. Given its massive size—comparable to a literal spaceship—it was the ultimate gimmick and would surely make a blockbuster film.

Ultimately, however, Zhou Yuanqiang abandoned this tempting idea. The release of Doomsday Storm 2 had brought in over 1.5 billion USD, but it had also been accompanied by waves of suspicion. Gossiping reporters, curious audiences, and cynical film critics had flooded him with various theories and questions.

The grand scale and the almost documentary-like realism of Doomsday Storm 2 had led people to doubt whether it was a fictional movie at all.

Several obsessed reporters had even used the terrain features in the film to pin down a location and recklessly traveled to China, hoping to find the filming site and conduct interviews.

They were ultimately disappointed. The geography was correct—not a single detail of the terrain had changed compared to the movie—but where were the massive zombie props? Where was the cast of thousands? Where was anything shown in the film? Beyond the geography, the wasteland was bare; there wasn’t so much as a footprint on the smooth, mirror-like ground. It was a place where people were rarely seen, let alone a place that could serve as a film set.

“The Greatest Hoax of the Century!”

“A Bizarre Production, A Mystery Movie!”

Headlines like these put not just Warner Bros but also Zhou Yuanqiang in a difficult position. If these reporters got serious, given their gossip-mongering skills and their determination to uncover the truth, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t doubt that someone might eventually propose a “time-travel theory.”

To handle this, Zhou Yuanqiang and Warner Bros spent a great deal of effort hiring ghostwritten articles and critics to launch a counteroffensive.

“The Emergence of Simulated Filming Techniques: Changing the History of Cinema!”

Zhou Yuanqiang doubled down on this “simulated filming” explanation, claiming it was entirely a high-tech method of creating virtual reality sets. He used the movie Avatar as a benchmark and found special effects workers to voice their support, which gradually calmed the storm of those trying to dig up the truth.

Although the real secret was not exposed, it was enough to make Zhou Yuanqiang break out in a cold sweat. If he attracted the attention of the state apparatus, they might not be able to prove anything, but if they suspected him, he would never have a peaceful day again. Because of this, Doomsday Storm 3 was delayed; he certainly didn’t dare risk letting Li Xiao film the supercarrier.

After one year and six months, the supercarrier was complete. Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t the first to know; everyone involved in the construction was aware.

When the final process was finished, every department responsible for it breathed a sigh of relief. For eighteen months, they had lived under immense pressure. As a strategic-level asset for the Commercial Association, its significance was clear to anyone with foresight.

The supercarrier did not resemble any known weapon; there were no references to draw from. It was a truly independent design and construction.

Because of this, the participating departments felt the weight of responsibility. They asked themselves every day: what if we fail? Even if the Chairman didn’t blame them, how could they face the expectations of the entire Commercial Association?

Fortunately, they had succeeded.

The leaders of the Commercial Association decided to hold a grand ceremony for the completion of the supercarrier. Not only would this deter the three million new residents of the Lanxi Plateau, but it would also deepen their loyalty. A strategic weapon like this had a massive psychological effect; if used correctly, it would bolster the morale of the entire Association, making people believe in their leadership and work with even greater passion.

On the third day after completion, transport airships flew from Lenghu and Tianzhou City toward Qingyuan City, carrying the recognized elites of the association.

The gathering included officials, outstanding technical researchers, business owners who had made significant contributions, and soldiers with distinguished service records. It was the most solemn gathering in the history of the Commercial Association, consisting of its true core figures.

The completion ceremony was held at the assembly line ten kilometers south of Qingyuan City.

The massive supercarrier was so large that even from the high-rises of the city, a tall, blurry shadow could be seen through binoculars. Once you headed south out of the city, it only took a short while before a giant silhouette towered into the sky. This was the supercarrier’s assembly line.

Anyone who saw this sight couldn’t help but gasp in amazement at the human capacity for creation.

For the veterans of the Commercial Association, the supercarrier was shocking, but they had at least seen the Hercules transport airship before and had some level of resilience. However, for people like Gao Dunxian who had recently joined, the impact was overwhelming. They spent the entire journey with their mouths agape.

Arriving at the assembly line, they stood before a structure 150 meters tall and two kilometers wide. Inside, the construction equipment had been relocated, and the supercarrier was currently being filled with helium. Standing in front of it, the difference was no longer that of an elephant and an ant, but an elephant and a grain of dust. It was impossible to imagine its scale until seen in person.

Filling the supercarrier with helium for the first time would take three days. Subsequent refills would only take a few hours and would not significantly impact combat operations.

Once the invited guests had arrived, the Commercial Association allowed ordinary citizens to attend the ceremony. As soon as the checkpoints were opened, the waiting crowds surged like a flood toward the assembly line ten kilometers south.

Soon, hundreds of thousands of citizens surrounded the assembly line. Looking at the gargantuan supercarrier, everyone screamed with excitement, with applause and cheers erupting continuously. It was a festive atmosphere, as if they were celebrating the New Year.

When Zhou Yuanqiang arrived with a large group of Association Ministers, the cheers reached a fever pitch.

Standing on the podium, Zhou Yuanqiang—the Chairman, founder, and greatest driving force of the Association—felt a surge of emotion that words could not describe. The supercarrier was like his child, now fully grown under the care of the Commercial Association. What could be more exciting than this?

The applause did not stop from the moment he stepped onto the stage. People who had lived through the apocalypse knew who had given them everything they now possessed. The applause was truly heartfelt.

“Friends, I am very happy to gather here today on this special day to witness this historic moment together.”

Through the loudspeakers, Zhou Yuanqiang’s voice reached every corner of the assembly line. As he began to speak, the applause gradually faded until only his voice remained. Everyone stared at him with burning eyes; in this moment, his figure grew even larger in their hearts, becoming irreplaceable.

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled excitedly, raised his hand to acknowledge the crowd, and then leaned back toward the podium. “We could not have achieved this without our shared unity. It is because of all of you that today’s Commercial Association was forged and this great supercarrier was born. I am proud of you all!”

“The emergence of this super aerial carrier is the crystallization of our Association’s technological power. Its construction utilized composite metals for the keel, while the auxiliary structures used advanced fiber materials developed by us. These fibers are harder than steel, but the difference in weight is like heaven and earth. It is precisely because of the large-scale use of these fibers that the carrier reached its designed payload capacity.”

“The 1920s and 30s were the golden age of airship manufacturing. Although that age ended with the Hindenburg disaster, what I want to say is that today, we have brought about an even more glorious era for airships—we can call it the Platinum Age. Friends, look at our skies. Our Association now operates dozens of types of functional airships, from aerial surveillance units only a few meters long to this supercarrier. Its development has completely surpassed the golden age of the World War II era.”

“The development of the Commercial Association is inseparable from the contribution of the airship. Its appearance gave humanity the dawn of survival. Now, the supercarrier joins the family of airships. It will defend our safety and make our enemies tremble in its shadow—a shadow they will never be able to escape.”

“At today’s ceremony, we must offer our deepest thanks to the entire design team of the Little Bird project, the manufacturing personnel, and every citizen who participated.”

Zhou Yuanqiang paused, and thunderous applause and cheering erupted once more.

He finally understood why leaders of the past used to take turns giving speeches at meetings. First, this thunderous applause was indeed intoxicating; second, on a day of such achievement, shouldn’t the designers and chief engineers be allowed to say a few words?

Given the number of departments involved in the supercarrier, it would take four or five hours if everyone spoke.

Considering the weather in the wasteland, Zhou Yuanqiang kept his remarks brief and stepped aside to let the primary contributors receive the citizens’ applause.

By noon, under the scorching sun, the speeches finally concluded, and the completion ceremony officially began. Performance teams that had been rehearsing for days stepped onto the carrier’s second flight deck to begin their shows.

Following the ceremony, the assembly line would be dismantled, and a secret maiden flight ceremony would be held.

The super aerial aircraft carrier was formally named The Chairman. It was the lead ship of the Brood Mother class aerial carriers, categorized as a supercarrier. Its maiden flight would not include aircraft; it would only test the vessel’s balance and various performance limits. After the flight tests were complete, it would be outfitted with its air wing and undergo one to two months of adaptation flights before formally entering service.

The entire testing phase was expected to last about three months.

Once in active service, it would not be part of the regular Air Force formations. Instead, it would be an independent unit directly under Zhou Yuanqiang’s command—which was the origin of its name, The Chairman.

Chapter 336: The Online Arms Shopping Platform

The Middle East and Africa are the most active regions for arms trading in the world. They have always been a choice piece of meat that the major arms-exporting nations are unwilling to let go of. Sometimes, Zhou Yuanqiang would maliciously wonder if the wars in these two regions were secretly supported by certain major powers. Otherwise, why did the news often report that despite the mediation efforts of various countries, no results were achieved, and the fighting continued as usual? If world peace were achieved, where would the annual arms trade volume of up to 100 billion dollars come from?

In fact, anyone in the Middle East knew that while public data did indeed reach 100 billion dollars, was the world’s arms trade truly limited to that? Consider Russia, which had publicly announced the loss of over a dozen nuclear warheads. Where did those warheads go? How much secret arms trade volume did they generate in the shadows?

It was no exaggeration to say that while legitimate arms trade reached 100 billion dollars, the underground arms trade volume likely exceeded that figure.

Anyone with a brain knew that things like the Russians’ missing nuclear warheads and raw materials definitely flowed into the arms black market. No one knew which countries, organizations, or even fanatical individuals they ended up with. As for how many countries were secretly involved in specific black market transactions, that was very difficult to determine.

Underground arms trading had existed since World War I. After nearly a century of development, the relationships involved were incredibly intricate. Even arms giants like the US, UK, and France had a presence in the black market. Under semi-public relationships, a web belonging to the underground arms world had gradually been woven.

With the development of society and technology, and the expansion of the internet, the most prestigious arms organizations in the underground world took the lead in establishing an underground arms trading network. It became the most active platform for underground arms deals, with as many as several hundred members logging in every day. The number of registered underground arms dealers also reached several hundred. It had formed a trading platform similar to an online shopping site.

Perhaps a count of only a few hundred would make people laugh their heads off, but once you understood the identities of these logged-in members, you would shut your mouth. Every single member was a potential buyer, and orders worth millions or hundreds of millions of dollars could be generated from these members at any time. Don’t be fooled by the fact that there were only several hundred logins a day; it was already quite staggering.

The URL for the underground arms trading site was not something everyone could know. Only individuals and organizations that had been verified by underground arms dealers could obtain it. Registering as a member on the site was very simple. Just like a regular portal website, you could log in by filling out a random profile.

Obtaining this URL meant gaining Balad’s approval; he had personally handed it to Zhou Yuanqiang.

Zhou Yuanqiang had never logged into this site before, mainly because he was too busy and had no immediate need for arms procurement.

Now, sitting quietly in his office at the Somali Steel Park, Zhou Yuanqiang used a computer equipped with an intelligent system to first set the AI to hide a series of network traces. In fact, for the intelligent system, he could accomplish all the functions he desired with just a single click or by using voice commands.

This intelligent system was the one Chen Wenbo had been tirelessly working on and refused to give up on when they first arrived at the wilderness settlement. After two years of full-scale development, it was finally completed.

The post-apocalyptic Commercial Association had long since widely adopted this intelligent system, letting it serve the organization. Each intelligent system functioned as an independent entity. For example, the newly built Chairman super aerial carrier had an intelligent system named “Nebula.” Through it, depending on different authority levels, one could use matching functions.

For instance, an artilleryman could operate the cannons through the fire control system within the “Nebula” system. A radar operator could manually process radar information or leave it to “Nebula” to handle—it was absolutely intuitive. As the supreme commander of The Chairman and the Chairman of the Commercial Association, Zhou Yuanqiang held the highest authority over “Nebula.” To put it hyperbolically, even if Zhou Yuanqiang were alone, he could pilot the super aerial carrier or command “Nebula” to enter autopilot.

It was foreseeable that in the future, intelligent systems would replace traditional manual operations, and fighter jets would become even more autonomous.

What Zhou Yuanqiang was currently considering was whether he should promote the intelligent system in the modern world and enter commercial operation. With the existence of the intelligent system, Microsoft might even have to declare bankruptcy. A series of software companies serving the “Windows” system would either have to embrace the intelligent system or perish along with the Microsoft empire.

It was precisely the epoch-making nature of the intelligent system that forced Zhou Yuanqiang to be cautious. Before he had absolute strength, holding the intelligent system was like a small child carrying a massive gold ingot. There was no security to speak of. Zhou Yuanqiang firmly believed that given the Americans’ style, if Microsoft’s existence were threatened, they would definitely label him a terrorist. Then, waving the “Sword of Justice,” they would ruthlessly send him on a trip to hell.

Consequently, the intelligent system would become the Americans’ own operating system, once again blanketing every corner of the world that had a computer.

In the modern world, only the Global Protector antivirus servers had the intelligent system installed, allowing it to manage the massive user base and handle security issues. In the Somali Steel Park, Zhou Yuanqiang had also installed the intelligent system for work requirements.

Other than that, the intelligent system had not been distributed elsewhere in the modern world. Before he had the strength, Zhou Yuanqiang could only keep it hidden…

Zhou Yuanqiang had a deep appreciation for the power of the intelligent system; its operation could be completed entirely through voice commands. For the virtual 3D desktop, Zhou Yuanqiang had the intelligent system simulate a mountain forest by a lake. With Yan Yuhe’s data input, she became the avatar of the intelligent system, currently standing gracefully in a pavilion by the forest.

“Yuhe, enter the third URL from my preset list.”

Following Zhou Yuanqiang’s command, the intelligent system in the likeness of Yan Yuhe made a swiping motion, pulling out a window from thin air. Inside was the login interface for the underground arms trading network.

Zhou Yuanqiang rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, and said, “Help me register with the username ‘sky’ and the password ******.”

“Received, please wait. Registration successful. Would you like to log in?”

The efficiency of the intelligent system was indeed fast. Its so-called “please wait” was a mere three seconds, during which a series of complex registration procedures were completed.

For an underground arms trading site with thousands of registered members, one more registration was not strange. The personnel responsible for running the website wouldn’t pay special attention just because of one more member. What they needed to maintain were potential hacker attacks. But who would be so blind as to attack an underground arms trading window? Only someone tired of living would do something so stupid.

“Log in!”

With that simple phrase, the entire computer screen transitioned into a familiar web browsing state.

Although the intelligent system included a virtualized browser, modern websites hadn’t adopted full virtual reality web technology yet, so it was impossible to display the site in a completely virtual manner. Fortunately, Chen Wenbo had considered this and allowed the intelligent system to normally display webpages based on the Windows system.

Using the intelligent system was very convenient; even a mouse wasn’t necessary. Under Zhou Yuanqiang’s commands, he was soon browsing the website’s content according to his needs.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s impression, underground arms trading was a very risky affair, full of danger and excitement. Because they were trading weapons, it inevitably gave off a sense of formality. Take a previous transaction as an example; just like a normal trade between nations, there were all sorts of procedures.

However, from the moment he opened the underground arms site, Zhou Yuanqiang almost thought he had entered the wrong place.

What met his eyes was actually the same as a common online shopping platform. Listed there were the names of various underground arms dealers’ shops and categories of weapons. There were even advertisements for arms dealers’ weapon shops appearing on the homepage—it was the spitting image of an online mall.

“Holy crap, is military hardware being sold like giveaway prices now?”

In his astonishment, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but complain. Thinking of Taobao, things there were often several or even a dozen times cheaper than elsewhere, just like giveaway prices. In fact, anyone who had shopped online knew that most things on Taobao weren’t actually that great.

Before he got the ring, Zhou Yuanqiang had personal experience: he bought a 16GB USB drive for only 87 yuan, which was incredibly cheap. But after buying it, the first use was fine, while the second time it turned into 8MB, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t format it for use.

The clothes he bought were certainly cheap, but the fabric and quality were indeed very poor.

Of course, why was it called “Taobao” (Treasure Hunting)? Naturally, there was a sense of chance involved. When you “hunted” through a dozen items, you were bound to find one that was both cheap and practical. At least, that was Zhou Yuanqiang’s understanding of those two words.

So, seeing this arms site that looked like an online shopping platform, Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bit troubled. “Don’t tell me treasure hunting is popular here too? If I buy a dozen fighter jets, is only one of them durable? If that’s the case, this underground arms network is too damn ‘talented.’”

Zhou Yuanqiang skimmed through the underground arms network. The variety of weapons listed was vast; it could be said that almost every weapon in modern human history appeared here. Of course, don’t count on things like aircraft carriers. It wasn’t that the underground arms dealers couldn’t get them, but the target was too large, making the transaction inconvenient. Therefore, regarding large-scale weaponry like warships, underground arms dealers rarely touched them. At most, they sold certain components of those ships, such as fire control systems, radar systems, missiles, and so on…

“Let me see… Tsk, Hellfire, Tomahawk cruise missiles, F-16 fighter jets, Mirage 2000… Ha, Taiwan’s Sky Bow. Good grief, it really covers everything.”

Looking at the guide column on the left, it ranged from bullets, pistols, rifles, machine guns, and sniper rifles to all kinds of artillery shells and cannons. Regarding missiles, there were small and large ones of all lengths, covering almost all the famous missiles from various countries. Even ICBMs were being sold by some arms dealers. As for tanks, helicopters, and fighter jets, there were quite a few of them. Except for a few specific models, most were listed here. For warships, only some small naval vessels were for sale.

Those who didn’t know better would think this was a site for military enthusiasts, but Zhou Yuanqiang knew that every item here could be bought with money.

What might be the same as a regular online shopping platform was that the weapons here also displayed stock quantities to facilitate procurement. However, sales figures were not displayed. Otherwise, if it were like Taobao and suddenly showed hundreds or thousands of Tomahawk cruise missiles sold within 30 days… Zhou Yuanqiang would feel dizzy just thinking about it. If that were the case, were Tomahawk cruise missiles really that dirt cheap?

Zhou Yuanqiang found the air-launched missiles category. As expected, his previous AGM-86B and C models of air-launched cruise missiles were indeed there.

Now Zhou Yuanqiang finally understood why underground arms trading existed. For certain organizations that were unwilling or unable to reveal themselves, they needed weapons but couldn’t possibly buy them from a legitimate country. If they wanted them, they could only go to underground arms dealers. Naturally, the price… was often several times that of a legitimate transaction.

Take the AGM-86B air-launched cruise missile; the US military price was around 1 million dollars, while the C-model was around 1.16 million dollars. But looking at the prices offered by several arms dealers, the B-model was 3.5 million dollars and the C-model was 4.5 million dollars—a full three to four times more.

“These missiles are so advanced; how did these arms dealers get them? Could it be the Americans sent people to sell them themselves?”

Zhou Yuanqiang thought maliciously. Considering that the Commercial Association indeed needed these types of missiles, he activated the site’s internal chat system, added the owner of one of the shops as a friend, and sent a message in English: “Do you have the technical data for the AGM-86B or C models?”

Shops like these usually had someone on duty 24 hours a day, so Zhou Yuanqiang’s question was quickly answered: “None!”

“Seriously? You can get the missiles but not the tech?” Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t give up and continued asking: “Is it a price issue? One hundred million?”

The other party’s reply was still a cold “None.” This annoyed Zhou Yuanqiang. Didn’t they know the customer is God? “What price will it take for you to get the technology?”

This time, there was no reply for a long while. Zhou Yuanqiang could tell that there was no hope, or perhaps the other party really didn’t have the technology. Just as he was about to close the chat window, the other party unexpectedly replied: “Five hundred million!”

Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head. These people really had some far-reaching connections if they could actually get the technology. Five hundred million dollars seemed like a lot, but if you considered how much money the Americans had invested in development, this five hundred million was indeed a giveaway price. Consequently, Zhou Yuanqiang was tempted. He quickly went through the website’s notary office and transferred a deposit of 100 million from his Swiss account. The remaining 400 million would be paid once the authenticity of the technology was verified during an in-person transaction.

After paying the 100-million-dollar deposit, the two parties exchanged contact information, and the transaction was scheduled to take place in a month.

Looking at the success notification on the website, Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly slapped his own head. “Damn it, I… I just finished a 500-million-dollar deal? Hell, this is even simpler than Taobao. Wait, I think I came looking for military satellites. How did I end up spending 500 million on air-launched cruise missile tech?”

Calculating it, 500 million dollars was enough to buy five hundred cruise missiles. This made Zhou Yuanqiang feel torn between laughter and tears; he really didn’t know if he had made a profit or a loss on this deal.

“Calm down, I need to freaking calm down. Don’t let these dazzling weapons make me lose my mind. Stay cool, stay cool. My money is also hard-earned blood and sweat money! Damn it, if I had known, I should have bargained with him. Cutting off one or two hundred million, or even just several tens of millions, would have been nice. This isn’t Vietnamese Dong; this is US dollars. Crap, I lost big time!”

Like a total rookie, Zhou Yuanqiang angrily closed the shop’s page and thought hesitantly: “Maybe I should just forfeit the hundred-million deposit and try another shop? If I could get it for two or three hundred million, I’d still be in the green.”

Unfortunately, his wish was shattered a moment later. When he tried the other shops, no matter how much Zhou Yuanqiang haggled like an old woman at a market, the others stood firm at 500 million. It seemed like this technology was globally pegged at this price. Regardless, with no other reference point, the price could only be set by them.

After haggling for half a day with no result, Zhou Yuanqiang gave up on the idea. Only then did he remember the purpose for which he had logged onto this underground arms site.

All along, the Commercial Association’s radar system had been quite advanced, reaching the levels seen on the mainland during peaceful times. However, in military operations, the Commercial Association had a fatal flaw: they didn’t have a single satellite of their own. Consider the role of satellites; without one, and in a world where there were far too many threatening weapons, how could Zhou Yuanqiang feel at ease?

Zhou Yuanqiang himself was very powerful, but without early warning satellites, who knew if someone would send him to the afterlife with a single cruise missile? In the face of those things, never mind having a level 17, 51-times-strength ability—even if it were doubled, he would still be turned into dust.

“Military satellite” was just a general term for various functional satellites; it could be subdivided into several categories.

If possible, Zhou Yuanqiang even hoped to deploy all categories of military satellites for the Commercial Association. But the difficulty was too high. The Commercial Association was full of talent, but there wasn’t a single person who knew how to design and build a satellite. The scarcity of talent in the post-apocalyptic world was vividly displayed at this moment.

Therefore, satellites could only be obtained from the modern world, as could the technology. Then they would be handed over to the Commercial Association to be mastered, allowing them to develop their own satellites. Since obtaining military satellites through legitimate channels was impossible, he could only take the black market route. To obtain military satellites, Zhou Yuanqiang was already mentally prepared to pay a massive price.

However, very soon, Zhou Yuanqiang was pulling his hair and letting out an agonized, conflicted scream: “How can there be no satellite category, and no satellites for sale?”

Chapter 337: Old Russia, It’s Your Turn for Misfortune!

It was exactly as Zhou Yuanqiang had seen. On the underground arms shopping platform, there was no category for satellites.

Refusing to give up, he typed “satellite” into the weapon search bar to see what he could find. Surprisingly, the keyword actually returned a few results. However, when he clicked to view them, Zhou Yuanqiang’s face soured. The “satellites” in these listings weren’t military satellites at all, but merely a few receivers related to satellite technology.

“How can such a massive online shopping platform not have military satellites? Is this a joke?”

Zhou Yuanqiang thought bitterly, Why hasn’t some self-proclaimed ‘champion of justice’ come along to hack this platform? With their supposedly ‘all-pervasive’ capabilities, they haven’t found where this platform is hosted yet? Then he remembered that all crows under heaven are black; if there were no underground arms platforms, how could politicians and military officers around the world engage in corruption and bribery?

Rubbing his chin in thought, he noticed a small, floating customer service icon on the right. Zhou Yuanqiang chuckled and clicked it. A dialogue box popped up: “Customer Service No. 003 at your service!”

“Do you not have military satellites for sale here?”

Customer Service No. 003 replied: “Military satellites are too large of a target. Generally, they are only manufactured when governments place specific orders. There is rarely any surplus production, so they very seldom leak into the arms trade. We apologize, but the Middle East platform currently has no recorded information regarding military satellites. You may post your requirements on our ‘Wanted’ platform.”

Seeing the response from No. 003, Zhou Yuanqiang thought about it and realized it made sense.

Take the US, for example, which was highly developed both economically and militarily. Over several decades, they had only launched sixty or seventy satellites in total. On average, that was barely one satellite launch per year. Under such circumstances, they would be monitoring them like hawks. How could any extras possibly trickle down to the black market?

A military satellite was a massive piece of equipment, not some random stray cat or dog that could be easily swallowed up by subordinates and sold privately to black market arms dealers. With strict records and specialized management departments, everything was documented, minimizing the possibility of “errors.” Under these conditions, it was indeed difficult for them to leak out; politicians and military officers hadn’t become that insane yet.

Aside from the US, Russia also had a significant number of satellites, but those were remnants of past glory. Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t interested in satellites from the seventies or eighties.

Other countries were even more pathetic. Those with a dozen or so satellites had usually scraped together every penny they had to get them, and they were already launched into orbit. There were none left for him to grab.

“The Somalia Transitional Government is so incompetent, poor as dirt, and under the shadow of Western European nations. Otherwise, if we could order a few military satellites from the UK or the US in the name of the Somali state, things wouldn’t be this troublesome. Plus, there would be no trouble at all; they’d provide technical support. Buying from the black market means you have to tinker with it yourself—isn’t that just like groping in the dark?”

Zhou Yuanqiang lamented their lack of potential, but he was forced to accept the reality.

Recalling what the service agent said about the “Wanted” platform, Zhou Yuanqiang searched the webpage for a moment before finally finding the function.

The “Wanted” platform was similar to a forum. When a buyer needed something, they would post a “seeking purchase” thread. The administrators would then automatically categorize the weapon type and send the request to merchants dealing in that specific hardware. Additionally, merchants could enter the platform themselves to view requests and negotiate directly with buyers.

However, in keeping with the black market’s nature of “plucking feathers from every passing goose,” posting a request required a fixed handling fee. Even if you were looking for a small pistol, the fee was the same as if you were looking for an aircraft carrier. It could be said… that this was how the “black” in black market was forged.

“Damn it, why don’t they charge the merchants for viewing the information too?”

Being on someone else’s turf, Zhou Yuanqiang could only lower his head and mutter, “Don’t they know the concept of ‘the customer is God’? Why do they demand money for every little thing?”

Complaints aside, the rules were the rules. Thinking about it, anyone coming here to buy things was someone who controlled vast amounts of wealth. If you didn’t fleece these people, who would you fleece? Moreover, for transactions frequently worth tens or hundreds of millions, this pittance wouldn’t even register in the eyes of the big shots. Take certain factions in Somalia, for instance; one act of piracy, seizing a few cargo ships or ransacking a luxury cruise liner, and they’d have more money than they could count.

Zhou Yuanqiang took a look. There weren’t many “Wanted” posts; there was only one for today.

He clicked it to find it was a request from a weapon collector looking for a WWII-era German Type II coastal submarine.

To be honest, submarines that old and with such small production runs were indeed extremely rare. Combined with the chaos of post-war destruction and the passage of nearly seventy years, those that remained were truly “rare” in every sense of the word. The price offered by the other party was three million dollars, which was certainly enthusiastic.

“Is it because it’s rare that it has collection value?”

Shaking his head, he closed the post and checked other requests. Some were marked as completed, while others remained active, likely because no one had fulfilled them yet. These requests were varied, but most were for obscure weapons or items with significant collector value.

Zhou Yuanqiang flipped through them and found no requests for satellites.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, countries in Africa and the Middle East were fighting each other to the death without a clear winner. If they could get their hands on a few spy satellites to take photos of everything—even the enemy’s underwear—would they still fear war or the enemy’s so-called tactics? Modern military spy satellites were speculated to be capable of clearly capturing the text on a newspaper held in someone’s hand.

With that level of reconnaissance, any tactic would be analyzed and exposed completely.

And yet, African nations would rather spend tens or hundreds of millions on conventional arms than buy these. On one hand, they lacked the awareness; on the other, such military satellites had always been restricted items for many nations. Getting one was harder than climbing to heaven.

Zhou Yuanqiang opened a new thread, paid the $100,000 fee, and posted his request for a military satellite.

Once the post was up, all he could do was wait. Zhou Yuanqiang believed that since merchants here were online twenty-four hours a day, someone would discover the post soon. Whether anyone actually had the goods was another story.

Since it was unlikely someone would come knocking immediately, Zhou Yuanqiang began browsing the site with interest.

Actually, in Zhou Yuanqiang’s opinion, the most valuable part of the entire arms site was likely the Technology Sales Section. It listed numerous weapon technologies and key technical data for various equipment. Even for many embargoed devices, technical documentation could be found here. There were even full design blueprints for naval vessels like frigates for sale. One could only imagine the madness of these underground arms dealers.

“As long as you have the money, you can buy anything you want!”

While arrogant, this sentence accurately described the capabilities of these underground arms dealers. They came from almost every country in the world and were all individuals with heaven-reaching influence.

Strangely, however, the section with the least activity was the Technology Sales Section. The reason was likely that these technologies weren’t cutting-edge and were generally suited for third-world countries. But given the conditions in those countries, what use was buying the technology? Without the means to manufacture, it was better to spend the money directly on weapons.

The air-launched cruise missiles Zhou Yuanqiang had bought involved very advanced missile technology. But for third-world nations, they lacked the capacity to manufacture them and the fighter jets required to launch them. Even if they wanted to buy, it was more practical to buy the missiles directly. Five hundred million could buy five hundred missiles—hardly a supply one would ever run out of.

Unsurprisingly, the most active trade was in light weapons, such as firearms, ammunition, small artillery, sniper rifles, and anti-tank missiles.

Heavy weapons were also traded, but not in large quantities. For Central African nations, fighter jets weren’t very practical; instead, attack helicopters and armored vehicles were the most popular. The volume of trade wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. According to Zhou Yuanqiang’s understanding, even among the complex factions in Somalia, almost everyone had one or two attack helicopters and a dozen or so armored vehicles.

To say nothing of wealthier local regional powers; owning more than ten attack helicopters was not uncommon.

After browsing the arms site for a while, his chat interface finally reacted as a message was sent over.

Zhou Yuanqiang was overjoyed. Upon clicking, it showed the message was from a shop called “Fallen Angel.” The message followed immediately: “You need a military satellite?”

“Yes!”

A moment later, Fallen Angel replied: “We have a former Soviet spy satellite in our possession. However, from a technical standpoint, it was manufactured in 1978. Are you interested?”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s brow furrowed. He thought for a moment before replying: “Is the technology too outdated? Tech from the late seventies doesn’t have much value.”

Fallen Angel sent over a smiley face and replied: “The technical power of the Soviet Union during the Cold War was extremely formidable. Even today, its satellite technology remains among the world’s most advanced. While this satellite cannot compare to the most advanced satellites of major military powers, it is still beyond what small nations can achieve. It should be able to satisfy your requirements.”

What the other party said was true.

The Soviet Union’s technical strength at the time was something even the US struggled to match. Its various advanced technologies led many industries, and its satellite technology was indeed very advanced. Zhou Yuanqiang had to admit this. Even after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia, which inherited most of the assets, still possessed immense technical strength, with many technologies remaining world leaders.

“It’s been twenty years. Did the former Soviet Union or current Russia never launch it?”

Facing Zhou Yuanqiang’s doubt, the other party sent another smiley face and explained: “At the time it was finished, a minor issue was detected just before launch, so it was sent back to the factory for repairs. During that process, many things happened, and it was forgotten. Especially on the eve of the Soviet collapse, everyone from top to bottom was only concerned with devouring what was left of the nation. Selling a satellite was nothing to them; they could collectively scrap dozens of fighter jets and tanks for smelting. What couldn’t they do?”

“As you can guess, we eventually bought it. However, there are almost no buyers for satellites. If we hadn’t seen your ‘Wanted’ post today, we would have almost forgotten we still had a spy satellite in our hands. You don’t need to worry; when it was purchased, it came as a complete set, including its receiving and control equipment.”

Zhou Yuanqiang fell into deep thought. Honestly, the other party was right. Given Soviet technical prowess, this spy satellite wasn’t too bad.

It certainly couldn’t compare to today’s most advanced spy satellites. Wanting to peek at women bathing or photograph their underwear would definitely be impossible. With late seventies technology, it would at most be used for geographical reconnaissance and identifying blurry military targets.

Generally speaking, such functionality was a bit lackluster for the Commercial Association, but it was barely usable.

The Commercial Association, which was a blank slate in the field of satellites, needed a true military satellite to study and master, eventually allowing them to develop their own. A low-level satellite could only help the Commercial Association understand the structure of a satellite; the road to developing one that could “peek at women” would be very long.

From this perspective, it didn’t quite suit the Commercial Association’s interests.

Looking at the development of the entire Commercial Association, their technical strength could only be described as skyrocketing. From not even knowing how to design a blimp, in just two and a half years, they could independently design and manufacture a super aerial aircraft carrier. From only being able to copy the J-6, to being able to design and produce the HY-3 third-generation fighter jet. Whether it was fighter jets, tanks, or artillery, everything was developing at high speed.

If they had to spend years, a decade, or even decades on satellite research to reach the level of the world’s current most advanced satellites, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t afford to wait. The situation in the apocalypse wouldn’t allow the Commercial Association that much time.

The successful development of strategic weapons most urgently required navigation satellites.

However, navigation satellites were the hardest type of military satellite to obtain. They usually consisted of several or even dozens of units to provide global coverage for navigation. More importantly, when paired with communication satellites, almost any location would fall under their navigation and communication coverage. Orders from developed nations could reach frontline troops in any corner of the globe within a mere three or four minutes.

The current situation had already led Zhou Yuanqiang to consider purchasing civilian satellites and modifying them to give them military capabilities, thereby forming the Commercial Association’s global navigation system.

“What’s the quote?”

Zhou Yuanqiang eventually decided that if the price was right, he would buy this spy satellite—not to launch it, but for dissection and research. To put it another way, he was buying it for the researchers in the Commercial Association to understand satellites, essentially paying for a piece of equipment to learn from.

Fallen Angel’s quote was very low, requiring a mere $15 million.

Such a low price was indeed beyond Zhou Yuanqiang’s expectations. He guessed the other party also wanted to offload this burden. Recalling the madness of the late Soviet era, he had heard that sometimes a few bottles of alcohol could get someone to open doors for you, even letting you haul away equipment worth tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars. Presumably, the price the other party paid for this satellite wasn’t very high. At $15 million, who knows how much net profit they were making?

If the other party had asked for one or two hundred million, Zhou Yuanqiang obviously wouldn’t have bought it, but for $15 million, there was no reason to pass it up.

He didn’t haggle. After promptly paying the $15 million, both parties agreed on the transaction method and location. Then, an unintentional comment from Fallen Angel suddenly caused Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes to flash with a sharp light: “Manufacturing of military satellites is becoming rarer these days. I heard Russia is about to launch a military satellite soon, apparently to serve the Black Sea Fleet…”

With his craving for military satellites, Zhou Yuanqiang had naturally considered robbery.

The problem was that in recent years, there had been very few reports of military satellite launches by various nations. Even when they did occur, they were carried out in secret, unknown to outsiders. In such cases, the satellites were already in orbit, giving Zhou Yuanqiang no chance to act on his devious plans. Otherwise, wouldn’t he have charged in like a fierce beast to begin a looting spree?

He had dared to rob a military base as large as Guam; what was a mere military satellite to him?

Exactly because he had no other way, Zhou Yuanqiang had been forced to try his luck on the arms site. But who could have imagined he would hear such news? For Zhou Yuanqiang, this was truly a pie falling from the sky. This $15 million was absolutely money well spent.

Zhou Yuanqiang wouldn’t doubt the authenticity of this news. Since the other party could obtain satellites and massive amounts of weapons and materials from the former Soviet Union, they certainly had their connections within. News that was confidential to ordinary people was common knowledge in their circles.

“Russia really is like a centipede that’s stiff but not dead. Their economy hasn’t even recovered, yet they’re starting to launch satellites again. Can they afford it?”

Zhou Yuanqiang asked tentatively. The other party didn’t suspect anything and replied: “God bless them. Let’s hope this satellite doesn’t end up in the ocean due to budget cuts.”

It seemed like a casual remark, but for Zhou Yuanqiang, it was enough. After closing the chat window, he fell into deep thought. There weren’t many regions in Russia capable of launching satellites from the coast, and with it serving the Black Sea Fleet, it wasn’t hard to find clues to confirm the launch site and the transportation route.

After pulling up a map of the “Polar Bear” nation and searching through recent news reports, Zhou Yuanqiang finally fixed his gaze on a certain area. A smile appeared on his face as he tapped his desk and said softly: “Old Russia, this time it’s your turn for some serious misfortune.”

Chapter 338: Railway Guerrilla

In this world, there are often many well-informed individuals and organizations. As long as you pay the right price, you can naturally obtain the intelligence you desire.

As many people know, the more one understands this world, the more one realizes its darkness. Ever since coming into contact with the community of underground arms dealers, Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly discovered that there were far too many things the average person could never know or reach. In the laws governing the underground, money truly could move mountains and open any door.

For a mere five hundred thousand dollars, he had obtained the intelligence he needed—all the relevant data concerning Russia’s military satellites.

He remembered that when he first received this information, he was absolutely stunned. He had even wondered if the other party had made up a story to fool him. The documents contained not only a series of military performance parameters but also detailed information on the manufacturing enterprise, the person in charge, the transport route, the launch base, and even which rocket model would be used to place it into which specific orbit.

Even if one thought about it with their toes, it was obvious that if the data was correct, it had definitely been leaked by a Russian insider—likely someone of very high rank.

“This world is absolutely insane!”

Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but sigh. The saying “Humans die for wealth, just as birds die for food” was perfectly exemplified by the blatant corruption shown in this intelligence.

A few days later, Zhou Yuanqiang set off for his destination. To avoid bringing trouble upon himself, certain precautions were necessary. After several rounds of different disguises, he finally arrived at a small town situated along the mandatory transport route for the satellite.

It had to be said that Jiao’er’s makeup skills were truly consummate. Under the disguise, Zhou Yuanqiang’s East Asian features vanished completely, replaced by the appearance of a local Russian man. Looking at himself in the mirror, even Zhou Yuanqiang could hardly believe how lifelike the resemblance was.

To avoid leaving any trail, Zhou Yuanqiang naturally didn’t dare use any vehicles from the apocalypse. While the idea of stealing a local car was tempting, who knew if it would leave some clues behind? Therefore, he quite simply used an inconspicuous, common Russian motorcycle. Like most motorcycles in the area, it didn’t even have a license plate as it roared down the highway.

Following his GPS navigation, Zhou Yuanqiang bypassed the town center when he arrived at its outskirts. He avoided people and vehicles, eventually following the railway tracks that skirted the town. He stopped in an uninhabited forest five kilometers away.

After stowing the motorcycle in his storage space, Zhou Yuanqiang found a spot in the forest where he could hide while maintaining a long-range view of the tracks. Staying in this foreign land and looking at the alien-smelling forest, he noted that the flora here was vastly different from his home country, carrying a thick atmosphere characteristic of the world’s northern reaches.

He sat on a protruding rock. Below it ran a railway that pierced through the vast forest, seemingly splitting the woods in two.

According to the intelligence, this military spy satellite would be transported by rail to the launch site for final assembly and deployment. Although it was a military train, the security measures were not exceptionally strong. After all, no one would ever imagine that someone within Russia would dare to commit such a daring and insane act.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know if the intelligence he bought would alert the Russian military, but it no longer mattered. The arrow was on the string and had to be shot.

The data for this satellite was indeed astonishing. As a latest-generation military spy satellite, it lived up to the rumors; from orbit, it could capture the movements of pedestrians on city streets. Even the text on a newspaper held by a pedestrian could be seen clearly. More terrifying was its integrated infrared capability, allowing it to work in all weather conditions. Whether it was day or night, it was difficult to escape its dreaded “eyes.”

The main reason Zhou Yuanqiang was willing to take this risk was because it was Russia’s most advanced military satellite. That alone was enough justification for him to make his move.

According to the intelligence, the military train would appear in an hour and a half. Zhou Yuanqiang had arrived early mainly to scout the terrain. This region of Russia near the Black Sea was heavily forested, and the weather wasn’t as frigid as the north. There was less snow, which meant the chances of leaving tracks were much lower.

After sitting on the rock for a while and drinking some water, Zhou Yuanqiang stood up to calculate the best position for his strike.

“Damn it, why do military spirits exist? Otherwise, would I really need to work this hard?”

The reason he was going to such lengths to obtain a satellite was for reconnaissance—specifically to solve the targeting issues for strategic missiles. For navigation, reconnaissance airships could serve as temporary command units for short-to-medium ranges. However, given the Commercial Association’s strategic intent toward long-range missiles, satellites were essential. One couldn’t rely on reconnaissance airships for long-range navigation; it simply wasn’t realistic.

Thinking of the Commercial Association’s current strength, Zhou Yuanqiang felt a surge of confidence. “Since even Northern General had the charisma to challenge military spirits, why should the Commercial Association, which is dozens of times stronger, act so timidly? The testing for the supercarrier is nearing its end, the interceptors and fighters are fully equipped, and the bombers are in production. The AWACS is important, but it can wait. It’s time to wage war against the military spirits!”

Given the several major military districts inland, Zhou Yuanqiang believed the sheer number of elite Army forces would produce a terrifying quantity of military spirits. Likely, no one yet had the strength to challenge the larger military bases.

This meant the number of weapons remaining in the apocalyptic world was staggering. While the Commercial Association could manufacture their own, he could also acquire these finished weapons and sell them in the modern world. That way, no one would know the source of the weapons, nor would they suspect the existence of the apocalypse.

It seemed like a great idea, but there was still a long way to go before it could be realized.

“Damn, once I get my hands on the American gear from the apocalypse—with all those advanced weapons, selling just a few for a billion or so would probably have countries scrambling to buy them.” Zhou Yuanqiang daydreamed, his mouth practically watering. American technology was indeed formidable; the stealth bomber he acquired a year ago was still being researched by the Commercial Association, and they were still quite some distance from being able to manufacture it.

The forest Zhou Yuanqiang was in was massive. In Russia’s vast territory, only a small population lived, leaving large tracts of primeval and sub-primeval forest everywhere.

Russian railways often ran through uninhabited mountains and plains. In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, this was why Russian nuclear warheads were always going missing. The terrain surrounding the railways was simply too convenient for those looking to cause trouble. Yet, those stubborn Russians always relied on the railways for their most important transports.

After checking the terrain, Zhou Yuanqiang looked for a stretch where he could sprint at full speed. It wasn’t hard to find.

Once he chose his strike point, all that was left was to wait.

The colors of the forest here—reds, greens, and yellows—blended together like an oil painting. Watching it quietly allowed one to fall into a strange sense of tranquility. Perhaps that was the charm of oil paintings; at the very least, Zhou Yuanqiang felt a unique sensation in this spiritual silence of the woods.

To a busy person, the passage of time is but a flick of a finger. Zhou Yuanqiang had too many things to consider, so he hardly noticed the time passing.

During his quiet vigil, three ordinary trains passed by. Each time, Zhou Yuanqiang climbed to the top of a tree to confirm their identity with binoculars. It wasn’t until the fourth train appeared that he finally saw the military train mentioned in the intelligence.

Modern military trains were mainly used for logistics, typically transporting tanks and military supplies. They were equipped with a small number of anti-aircraft weapons but couldn’t be called armored trains. When transporting tanks, a single train could deliver dozens to their destination at once.

This specific train was transporting the military satellite, which had been broken down into several large sections, along with all its functional components.

Likely due to the perceived ease of the mission and the light load, the entire train consisted of only ten cars. It was traveling very fast, at a speed of approximately 150 km/h.

Whenever railways are mentioned, many people think of the famous movie Railway Guerrilla. The most exciting scenes involved the guerrillas lying in ambush by the tracks and, upon command, rushing the train as it appeared. They would use the corners and edges of the carriages to climb aboard, open the doors, and toss out crates of rifles and ammunition.

That classic scene was an eternal memory for those born in the 1970s and 80s.

But now, facing trains that exceeded speeds of a hundred kilometers per hour, who would dare to climb them? The reason the guerrillas were successful was that trains during World War II weren’t fast. In modern times, they could only stare in helplessness. Seeing a high-speed train going 200 or 300 km/h would probably make their knees buckle.

The military train moved quickly. From the moment Zhou Yuanqiang spotted it until it entered this stretch of forest, only about ten minutes had passed.

Zhou Yuanqiang stood under a large tree right by the tracks, using the bright red leaves to hide himself. As the locomotive passed, Zhou Yuanqiang, who was long prepared, contracted his muscles. The explosive power he released made him almost a blur, completely defying the known laws of human biology.

Fast as the military train was, Zhou Yuanqiang’s explosive speed was faster. In an instant, he had leaped onto the roof of one of the carriages.

The deafening roar of the train completely masked the sound of his landing. Furthermore, the car he landed on was the one carrying the satellite. It was large and spacious, and no soldiers were stationed on top.

Like a scene from an action movie, this unprecedented experience made Zhou Yuanqiang’s blood boil. He flipped over and lay flat on the roof, feeling the slight vibration. After taking a few deep breaths, he rolled over and hung off the side of the car, dangling in front of the door.

In the past, train cars were usually locked with simple external locks. But nowadays, especially on military trains, important carriages were built like safes, protected by multiple layers of password security. Zhou Yuanqiang’s luck wasn’t great; the car he faced was exactly the kind protected by a security code.

“The intelligence didn’t mention this, but… luckily, I’m not an idiot.”

He flipped back onto the roof and pulled a pre-prepared cutting tool from his storage space. Upon activation, it hissed with a high-temperature flame.

Mimicking a scene from a cartoon, he began cutting a circle through the roof of the military car. The roof was made of ordinary sheet metal, which posed no difficulty for the cutter. In a matter of moments, a hole large enough for a person to pass through was cut out.

Retracting the cutter into storage, Zhou Yuanqiang peeked inside. Sure enough, a massive satellite component was positioned there.

Without hesitation, Zhou Yuanqiang nimbly slipped inside. With a wave of his hand, the satellite component vanished into his storage space. Looking at the now-empty carriage, Zhou Yuanqiang could already imagine the looks on their faces when they realized the satellite was gone.

To make the robbery look more “realistic”—as if it had been a heist rather than a silent disappearance—he produced a bundle of timed explosives and fixed them to the carriage door from the inside.

The single satellite had been split into three components. Although time was plentiful, Zhou Yuanqiang maintained an attitude of finishing quickly. He didn’t stay long; after exiting that car, he jumped to the next one. Following the same method, he cut a hole and completely emptied the carriage.

Using this method, it took him half an hour to empty a total of six carriages.

Aside from the locomotives at the front and back and the six cars carrying the satellite and equipment, the remaining cars carried the satellite technicians and soldiers. Out of negligence, or perhaps because they found it unimaginable, these six cargo cars were completely unmonitored—no guards, no surveillance cameras, and no periodic checks.

The time Zhou Yuanqiang set for the explosions wasn’t very long. By the time he had finished looting the satellite and its related equipment, the countdown was nearly up.

Obtaining the prize so easily caused Zhou Yuanqiang’s high-strung nerves to relax. He even started to complain about the Russians—why didn’t they transport a rocket on the train too, to make it a complete set? If they had, wouldn’t he have saved a lot of trouble later?

This “getting a bargain and then complaining about it” behavior was truly shameless, born of insatiable greed.

The power of the timed explosives was only meant to destroy the carriage doors from the inside, so the sound wouldn’t be exceptionally loud. Zhou Yuanqiang judged that if the guards were focused, they might hear something. If they weren’t, the noise of the train itself would be enough to mask the blasts.

When he jumped off the train, the impact caught Zhou Yuanqiang slightly off-guard. He rolled several times in the forest to bleed off the momentum.

Brushing the leaves off his clothes, Zhou Yuanqiang watched the military train recede into the distance and shook his head with a wry smile. He had been targeting the Americans for a while now; it was only fair that their old rival, the Russians, tasted the same bitterness. Although the Soviet Union had collapsed and Russia had only inherited about half of its military power, a lean camel is still bigger than a horse—they still had some good stuff.

He found a high vantage point and raised his binoculars. He soon spotted the train nearly hidden by the forest. A faint puff of smoke emerged from one of the carriages; the timed bombs had finally detonated.

However, the train soon vanished into the trees, so Zhou Yuanqiang had no way of knowing if the soldiers on board had noticed. Since he had already succeeded, finding out was unnecessary. The key now was to leave the area before they cordoned it off.

Zhou Yuanqiang exited the forest, found a road, and rode off on his motorcycle.

But on the train… for the soldiers on duty, a nightmare was quietly unfolding.

The sound of the timed explosions was indeed slightly louder than the train’s noise. In the car closest to the cargo section, a soldier’s ears perked up. He nudged the soldier sitting across from him and said, “Did you hear that? It sounded like an explosion.”

Unfortunately, his companion was currently drinking a slug of vodka, the favorite of all Russians. Having been recently transferred from the north, he hadn’t yet kicked the habit and was essentially ignoring military regulations. Although he hadn’t drunk much, those few gulps of the potent spirit made him feel like his body was on fire, causing him to break into a sweat.

“Explosion? No, no, no, buddy. Relax. That’s simply impossible. Remember, we’re on a train, not a battlefield.”

Seeing that his comrade had a point, the soldier who heard the noise didn’t press the issue. He sat back down and said, “Two and a half hours until we reach the destination. You’d better drink less. If you’re caught, it’s a court-martial.”

“Court-martial? Son of a bitch, in my old unit, this wouldn’t have been a crime…”

Watching his new partner continue to sip from the bottle, the soldier said nothing more. He closed his eyes, intending to rest for a moment. But then, another explosion rang out—and this time, it felt like it happened right next to them. Like… like it was in the adjacent car!

Startled, he jumped up. “No, there really is an explosion!”

He opened the window and leaned his head out.

He saw a row of the rear carriages emitting faint trails of white smoke. The wind blew back toward him, bringing the strong scent of gunpowder. Even more shocking, as the train continued to move, he could see that the door of one of the carriages was half-open.

The soldier felt as if his head had been struck by a heavy hammer; his vision swam with gold stars.

Coming to his senses, his face pale with immense panic, the soldier frantically pulled the alarm. Soon, the screeching of emergency brakes echoed along with the wail of the siren…

Chapter 339: Is it April Fool’s?

The train skidded for over a kilometer after the brakes were applied before it finally screeched to a halt.

“Quick, quick, quick!”

As the commander roared his orders, soldiers jumped down from the open carriage doors, clutching their rifles. They immediately took cover behind the train, while others dove into the tall grass along the tracks. Several machine guns were mounted on the roofs of the carriages, trained on the surrounding area. Under this heavy guard, the commander led a squad of soldiers to the cargo carriage. Looking at the blasted remains of the carriage door, they were left utterly speechless.

At the commander’s signal, two soldiers slung their rifles over their backs, forced the carriage door open, and immediately ducked low.

Inside, the carriage was empty. There were no bandits as they had imagined, nor was there a scalp-tingling gunfight. Instead, the satellite components had simply vanished. All six carriages were exactly the same—completely hollow. The satellite components and all the corresponding equipment had long since disappeared into thin air.

Seeing this, every soldier present felt a cold sweat break out over their entire bodies. They could already imagine themselves standing before a military court. The commander responsible for this escort, in particular, felt his vision go dark, nearly fainting on the spot.

There were only two paths left before him: one was to fail to recover the satellite and face a court-martial; the other was to redeem himself by finding the stolen property.

Undoubtedly, anyone with a working brain knew which to choose. Bracing himself against his internal tremors, the commander bellowed at the top of his lungs, ordering all soldiers to deploy and fan out into the forest in every direction to begin a search. Judging by the timing, whoever had stolen the satellite components couldn’t have gone far while lugging such cumbersome equipment.

The chaotic scene on the military train seemed to find a focal point under the commander’s leadership. Over seventy soldiers formed four search teams and plunged into the mountain forests on both sides of the railway.

To bolster their morale, the four teams let out fierce roars as they moved.

The military train remained stationary on the tracks. Since this was a main artery connecting major cities around the Black Sea, an incident of this magnitude could not be hidden. To prevent being hit by a following train, the commander had no choice but to bite the bullet and report the news of the hijacked satellite back to the launch center in charge of satellite affairs.

At the launch center, Colonel Andrei stared in stunned silence after receiving the terrible news. He turned to his adjutant and asked, “Is it April Fool’s Day?”

Unfortunately, the answer provided by the clock showed that it was late autumn, nearing the onset of winter. There was no doubt that it was not April Fool’s Day, and Andrei was certain that the officer on the other end wouldn’t dare bet his entire career on such a joke.

the entire launch center was already prepared. They were only waiting for the satellite to arrive, be assembled, and then launched in five days to be delivered to the Black Sea Fleet.

This catastrophic news sent Colonel Andrei into a total panic. Only half an hour ago, he had personally guaranteed to Vice Admiral Korolev, the new commander of the Black Sea Fleet, that there would be absolutely no issues with the safety of the satellite launch and that it would be delivered for use in five days.

How much time had passed since that guarantee? He could almost see Vice Admiral Korolev’s fury drowning him.

Russia’s current economic situation was very poor. The manufacturing of this satellite had only been approved after more than a year of deliberation, finally passing due to the increasingly complex situation in the Black Sea. To have a problem occur under his watch before it even entered service was a fatal blow to Andrei. For a man with one foot already through the door of a General’s rank, it was devastating.

“You bastard! Start the pursuit immediately! If you don’t find that satellite, don’t you ever come back!”

Colonel Andrei’s roar pierced through the communicator into the ears of the train commander, causing another complete uproar on the scene. The train commander slammed the communicator down and led his soldiers in a frantic run along the tracks. According to the first soldiers who noticed, the incident had happened less than ten minutes prior. Even if they had wings, the thieves couldn’t have flown that far.

The train commander was already fantasizing about catching these audacious bandits and showing them exactly how formidable Russian soldiers could be.

But very quickly, he fell into despair. As the teams of soldiers charged into the woods, they found nothing but pristine wilderness. Even the teams with scouts couldn’t find a single trace of anyone having passed through. As for the group he led along the tracks, let alone human footprints, they didn’t even see a single tire track.

“This is impossible…”

The train commander’s agonized roar startled a flock of birds. The situation before them was too eerie. Each of those satellite components weighed 200 kg. Three components alone weighed 600 kg, and with the rest of the equipment, the total weight was three to four tons. Without a truck, how could they have stolen it all using raw manpower?

The more they thought about it, the more tangled the mystery became. They were stuck in a dead end.

After receiving this series of reports, Andrei was dumbfounded. In a fit of desperate rage, he notified the local police to blockade all entrances and exits and suspended operations on that section of the railway. Until the beginning and end of the event were clarified, the scene had to be protected to facilitate analysis by experts.

Concerned about his own career, Andrei dared not be careless. After reporting to higher departments, the government acted quickly on this shocking event. A regiment of soldiers was urgently dispatched to the site of the incident. Simultaneously, soldiers were sent to block every possible road, and the Air Force was immediately sent for regional reconnaissance.

To prevent a direct strike against the Black Sea Fleet, the new commander, Korolev, cautiously ordered the Black Sea Fleet to temporarily depart from the port and patrol the waters near the naval base.

This kind of emergency mobilization could not be hidden from well-informed foreign intelligence personnel. Waves of signals were broadcast, transmitting back to their respective countries. The nations near the Black Sea, in particular, became tense upon receiving the news, activating early warning measures and putting their military forces on standby. At the same time, they sent inquiries regarding the purpose of the mobilization, while the ambassadors of various embassies naturally mobilized to visit Russian Ministry of Defense officials.

Besieged by inquiries from various countries and meeting requests from ambassadors, the Ministry of Defense was completely bewildered, not yet understanding what was actually going on.

By this stage, it was impossible to keep it a secret any longer. Andrei had no choice but to report the incident to the Ministry of Defense in full detail. For Andrei, even if he redeemed himself now, a demotion was certain. He could forget any hopes of ever attaining the supreme title of General.

The prowess of journalists could certainly rival that of secret agents. As soon as the situation developed, they swarmed in to dig up the explosive news.

Although the entire event was not a military action directed against any specific country, the fact that such an important military satellite could be stolen silently within their borders sent the Russian Ministry of Defense into a towering rage. This humiliating incident would surely become a laughingstock for other nations.

The reputation of Russian officials and the military on the international stage was already not very good; this incident would surely be attacked as yet another Russian corruption case.

The Ministry of Defense’s fury resulted in the train commander being suspended and placed under investigation. Until a new commander arrived, he was temporarily forced to lead the soldiers in continuing the search for clues. On the other hand, to save face, two more regiments were added to the force. They were determined to bring the audacious bandits to justice and minimize the damage to their reputation.

The order for the large-scale blockade came two and a half hours after Zhou Yuanqiang had succeeded. With Zhou Yuanqiang’s abilities, he was already nearly 200 km away from the military train. The blockade meant absolutely nothing to him.

However, other drivers were not so lucky. Under the massive blockade, being searched was the least of their worries; they were required to stay until the investigation was complete. Truck drivers, in particular, were detained for comprehensive questioning.

The unlucky truck drivers were all wearing miserable expressions, pointing at their cargo or their empty carriages and asking, “Are your eyes on top of your heads? Is there a satellite component hidden here? Don’t you have eyes to see?” Unfortunately, the irritated soldiers usually responded with a rifle butt to the face, knocking the brave drivers down.

Thanks to the efforts of journalists, only four hours later, this international news story was being broadcast on every TV station.

From the camera footage, one could see attack helicopters circling over the military train and large numbers of soldiers searching in formation. Inside the stationary train, there were the carriage doors destroyed by explosives. The scene then cut to the highways, where a sea of cars and drivers were stuck, and further away, temporary checkpoints where squads of soldiers were inspecting vehicles.

Regarding this farcical heist, some radical news sites were already mocking: “This is yet another incident similar to the mysterious disappearance during the transport of nuclear warheads. The incompetence of the Russian military has provided certain personnel or organizations the opportunity to obtain vast amounts of Russian technology and threatening weapons. According to an official who wished to remain anonymous, the lost military satellite was a new generation of Russian spy satellite, integrating dozens of world-leading technologies…”

It could be said that pressure from all sectors once again weighed heavily on Russia.

A large number of experts arrived at the train to begin their analysis. Their preliminary deduction was that the bandits used a cutter to open the top of the carriage and then used explosives to blow the door open from the inside to steal the satellite. This deduction wasn’t wrong, but what the experts couldn’t fathom was how the culprits had stolen the components so silently and how they had finished the theft and vanished in such a short amount of time.

Even more baffling was that these components each weighed around 200 kg. To think they could be stolen silently was pure fantasy; such an operation could not be completed without lifting machinery and a truck to receive the goods.

The problem remained: the military train was traveling at a speed of 146 km/h at the time, and the incident occurred in a mountain forest where the side of the railway could not accommodate a truck. If a helicopter had been used, it was impossible for none of the soldiers on the train to notice.

Furthermore, it would have been impossible for the sound of the carriage doors being blown open to occur after the fact, which is what had alerted the soldiers.

The entire matter was absolutely bizarre. No matter how much the experts wracked their brains, they could not deduce how it had happened. Every “impossible” and “illogical” point was shattered by the simple fact that the satellite components were gone.

“If it’s impossible, then where is the satellite?”

Hearing the experts’ analysis, Andrei’s face twisted as he roared, leaving the experts speechless.

“Could it be someone with supernatural powers, or a space wormhole, or perhaps a divine intervention from a god?”

An expert who seemed to be a fan of mythology carefully voiced his theory: “If it wasn’t a god, how could human power achieve this series of events? As everyone has seen, there isn’t a single human trace at the scene, including any marks from moving the hardware. If it wasn’t the work of a god, how else could it be done?”

Hearing this bullshit analysis, Andrei nearly wanted to throw the man into the forest to feed the wolves. Did he think this was a movie?

The theory of divine intervention was easily refuted. One expert pointed out that judging by the explosives and the cutter, it was almost certainly a human action. Furthermore, there were faint, incomplete human prints left on the roof of the carriage, proving it was not the work of a god.

“Judging by the perpetrator’s methods, they were very skilled. They had detailed knowledge of the train’s route and schedule. I believe there must have been an internal leak; otherwise, an outsider couldn’t have mastered such detailed data to perform a seamless operation. It must have been planned for a very long time.”

This explanation was the most acceptable. Although they still hadn’t found a trace of the satellite thieves, at least they had found a starting point.

Consequently, every person who had come into contact with the satellite was brought in for investigation.

An investigation could not be completed in a day or two. The military train sitting there was severely impacting railway transport for the entire region. Thus, on the third day, railway usage resumed. The military train returned to its departure station for further testing.

By the fifth day, with the search for the thieves yielding no results, the large-scale blockade was lifted, continuing only within a small area.

When reporting on such a bizarre accident, the international community naturally used a somewhat sarcastic tone. Many national newspapers believed this was a scheme orchestrated by the Russian military to embezzle a satellite worth 200 million USD. They claimed the military train never carried any satellite components and that the whole thing was just a performance for the world to see.

Faced with these sarcastic reports, the Russian Ministry of Defense was furious, but their rebuttals were weak and filled with a sense of helplessness.

On the sixth day, the Director of the Launch Center was suddenly taken away. The reason was the suspicion that he was involved in selling intelligence related to the satellite heist.

In a subsequent press conference, the press officer confirmed the journalists’ questions, claiming that the former Director of the Launch Center had used his position to sell the satellite’s transport route, schedule, and a series of manufacturing parameters for a 100,000 USD intelligence fee to the internationally notorious “Dark” organization. This organization then sold the information to other buyers, making a profit of millions. As for which specific organization carried out the theft, it was still under investigation.

The press officer simultaneously announced that the “Dark” organization would be classified as a terrorist organization and would face a military crackdown.

Although the press conference showed the satellite theft wasn’t the work of a god as previously guessed, but rather a human outcome, people were still most concerned with how the thieves had accomplished it—how they could silently steal such a large target.

Unfortunately, the thieves were never caught, leaving the incident a mystery that would likely be listed as one of the top ten unsolved mysteries.

Only the Americans made a connection to the incident on Guam the previous year. Back then, they hadn’t caught a single soul after their base was destroyed by a mecha. Despite putting in 120% effort and mobilizing several carrier strike groups, the enemy had escaped. The Americans were the laughingstock of the world then; wasn’t what was happening to Russia now just as full of mystery?

Thinking that Al-Qaeda might have stolen the satellite, they feared that once such an organization possessed such an advanced spy satellite, the US military deployment in Afghanistan would have no secrets left.

This potential threat made the Americans “agitated” and anxious. They had already tasted the destructive power of those human bombs.

Zhou Yuanqiang, who had long since returned to Somalia, was stunned by the impact of this event. Especially when he saw the Russian press conference and heard that such important intelligence had only netted that unlucky Director 100,000 USD, he couldn’t help but marvel at how powerful these intelligence organizations were—turning a mere 100,000 USD investment into dozens of times that in return.

Zhou wasn’t worried they would suspect him. With the existence of the intelligent system, there was no trace of him to be found. How could they ever know it was his doing?

Half a month later, the incident gradually faded from the public eye. While Russia breathed a sigh of relief, they still conducted a full investigation, wanting to find such a powerful organization while also cleaning house internally. A group of unlucky children became guests of the military court, likely spending the rest of their lives in darkness.

The satellite Zhou Yuanqiang had ordered earlier was finally delivered, and he also obtained the technical data for air-launched cruise missiles.

When trading for the satellite, Zhou had been somewhat worried. But since the trade took place in international waters and Russia couldn’t possibly focus its attention on the Middle East, it wasn’t as thrilling as he had imagined. The only place Russia might have found a clue was the record of someone searching for a satellite on a military procurement network.

But even if they saw it, so what? Who knew how many years it would take to trace that back?

In the 12th month of the 6th year of the apocalypse, the Commercial Association officially used ICBM technology to modify their first carrier rocket. They launched a spy satellite that would serve the Intelligence Department, monitoring and scouting all activities across the entire continent. Additionally, they successfully replicated their first air-launched cruise missile, which was named the Air-I.

Chapter 340: Precision Strike

The seventh year of the apocalypse and the third New Year of the Commercial Association arrived amidst a slightly chilly breeze.

Unlike previous years, massive slogans covered the streets and alleys before the holiday. The phrase “Three years to sharpen a sword” was visible everywhere, adding a layer of tension to the New Year festivities. The abundance of resources and sufficient meat supplies allowed every resident to feast to their heart’s content, a far cry from the years when they couldn’t even secure a meal.

This third New Year of the Commercial Association was a time of joy for ten thousand households. The sound of firecrackers echoed everywhere, sweeping away the pervasive sense of crisis and unease that usually defined the end times.

The New Year celebrations lasted fifteen days, but for the Strategic Department and the General Staff of the Commercial Association, the holiday had effectively ended by the fifth day. Everyone had returned to their posts, working intensely. A vast number of high-definition spy satellite images were continuously transmitted from the satellites to the ground stations and then handed over to the Intelligence Department.

The Analysis Department had been restructured, with its personnel reassigned to the Strategic Department, the General Staff, and the Intelligence Department. Consequently, all images were subjected to repeated analysis within the Intelligence Department to find the most valuable intel. These were eventually submitted to the General Staff, who would then designate combat targets.

The entire process was streamlined with clear divisions of labor. Once combat targets were established, orders were dispatched to the Army and the Air Force depending on the nature of the objective. It could be said that the advent of spy satellites had ushered in a new era of warfare, initiating the age of long-range precision operations.

For the Army, mobilization required a significant amount of time; it was estimated that they would need half a month before they could launch a long-distance expedition.

Indeed, three years of sharpening the sword had led to this moment—the time to test just how sharp it was. Once the New Year passed, the war order previously signed by Zhou Yuanqiang officially went into effect. The entire Commercial Association entered a state of wartime readiness, beginning the prologue to humanity’s counteroffensive against the zombies and the campaign to reclaim the skies.

When Zhou Yuanqiang’s war order was broadcasted, countless people listened intently to his powerful voice.

“…The time to reclaim these skies has arrived. We shall show the zombies who the true masters of this sky are.”

As the war order was issued, word spread like wildfire. People were so moved that they shook hands and embraced one another, whether they knew each other or not. The Commercial Association had labored for three years for this very moment. Now that it was here, what news could be more heartening?

The passion erupting from the populace seemed to melt everything in its path. Work efficiency suddenly increased by half as people channeled the same fervor their ancestors had during the founding of New China, demonstrating their “combat power” at their workstations. Private enterprises even selflessly dedicated entire factories to serve the mobilization for this war order.

“Reclaim the skies!”

“Fight back!”

“We are the masters of this sky!”

Slogans were posted wherever people gathered. Under the rule of the Commercial Association, the populace was like boiling water, churning with excitement.

The entire Army, five hundred thousand soldiers strong, was making its final preparations. They would advance in two directions—south and east—until they reached the coastal regions. After nine months of formation, the consolidated army group, possessing as many as eight hundred tanks, would be split into two tank units. They would serve as the vanguards for the two army groups, forming a Steel Torrent that acted as a piercing blade.

While the Army was in its final stages of preparation, the Air Force was the first to launch an attack, executing the General Staff’s precision strike plan.

As the second generation of the Air Force’s bombers, the name “Magic Bird” invited much speculation. These second-generation bombers were largely based on the first generation but incorporated technologies researched from the B-2 bomber. Because it was a transitional model, the Commercial Association only planned to produce twelve of them. Currently, only seven had been delivered for service, while the remaining five were still in the aircraft factory’s assembly halls, awaiting completion.

The development of the Magic Bird bomber primarily served the use of large-scale strategic weaponry. Following the successful reverse-engineering of air-launched cruise missiles, the armory’s missile department had delivered one hundred and sixty missiles in just two months to support the General Staff’s precision strike plan.

At that moment, four Magic Bird bombers, escorted by as many as thirty HY-3 fighter jets, streaked across the sky above Qingyuan City and disappeared into the horizon.

“Magic Bird formation is all green. Distance to attack position: 1,120 kilometers. Estimated arrival for precision strike in one hour.”

As the leader of the Magic Bird formation, Li Xiaojie was a legend in the Air Force for holding such a critical responsibility as a woman. While Dali’s influence played a part, it was undeniable that Li Xiaojie’s personal capabilities were exceptional; she had passed the pilot exams with flying colors and was a member of the ace pilots.

The issuance of the war order gave the Air Force the shortest preparation time, but Dali didn’t see it that way. In his philosophy, the Air Force was like a drawn sword, ready for the Commercial Association to use at a moment’s notice. Unlike the Army, which had an excessively long supply line and required significant time to mobilize resources, the Air Force operated differently.

The Air Force’s combat style was characterized by speed, precision, and ruthlessness. With their logistics based at the heart of the Commercial Association, they faced no logistical pressure whatsoever.

The weather over the wasteland was chilly after the New Year, with very few clouds. The Magic Bird’s cruise speed reached 900 km/h, with a maximum speed of 1,800 km/h—comparable to the HY-2 fighter jet and slightly slower than the HY-3.

After leaving the wasteland and entering the vast mountain ranges to the east, the sky finally became thick with rolling dark clouds.

Positioned at an altitude of 12,000 meters, the Magic Bird bombers were in the stratosphere. To counter the threat of anti-aircraft guns and surface-to-air missiles, their flight ceiling reached a staggering 22,000 meters. This was an altitude many fighter jets couldn’t reach, and it also allowed them to avoid attacks from Bird Zombies, enabling them to operate independently.

“Sixty kilometers to the attack position. Formation, prepare. Fighter escort, enter alert status.”

A series of orders were issued. For high-speed bombers, sixty kilometers was a distance covered in just a few breaths. Under the pre-programmed combat sequence, the weapon bay doors beneath the four Magic Bird bombers slowly opened. A reverse-engineered AGM-86B air-launched cruise missile (Air-I Model) appeared. A minute later, they detached from the weapon racks and plummeted downward.

With an initial drop altitude between 7.6 to 150 meters, the missiles would only ignite their thrusters when they neared a lower altitude, propelling forward at Mach 0.65.

Following the successful launch of the four air-launched cruise missiles, the Magic Bird bombers performed a swift turn and began their return flight under fighter escort.

In the command center, large computers were humming. A massive screen displayed a virtual holographic map, which switched views according to the commander’s orders via the intelligent system. Data transmitted from the spy satellites was integrated into this virtual map by the intelligent system within milliseconds.

As soon as the cruise missiles detached from the bombers, their visuals appeared on the holographic map.

Displayed in a four-way split-screen format, the screens allowed everyone to clearly see the positions and operational status of the missiles. Thanks to the advanced spy satellite technology and the data link with the intelligent system, every movement of the cruise missiles was displayed almost in real-time.

“Missile ignition sequence initiated!”

The intelligent system’s emotionless voice rang out. The four cruise missiles on the screen ignited almost simultaneously, surging forward. After rapidly dropping their flight altitude, they lunged ahead. Once they reached their cruise altitude, they began to fly according to the contours of the terrain.

“Entering normal cruise status!”

Following the intelligent system’s prompt, every staff member in the command center stood up and applauded. At the very least, all the cruise missile systems were functioning perfectly, proving that the reverse-engineering of the AGM was a success.

As the opening move of the precision strike, the four cruise missiles were tasked with striking a coastal city seven hundred kilometers away to destroy four zombie nests captured by spy satellites.

Through extensive analysis, the General Staff had identified these four strike points as locations harboring terrifying types of zombies. In one of the images, a massive zombie with a protruding horn was seen lifting a car and throwing it; under the gaze of the spy satellite, even its remaining patches of hair were clearly visible. Several reconnaissance runs had confirmed its combat power was far beyond the previously discovered Giant Zombies, meeting the criteria for a precision strike.

At another strike point, a glimpse of a Corpse Queen’s stunningly beautiful head was caught through a small crack, captured by the spy satellite in a fleet-footed moment. It too became a target for precision strike, destined for total destruction.

On the holographic map, the view rose and fell with the progress of the missiles. This cruise technology truly amazed everyone present. It was foreseeable that the future of warfare would belong to precision strikes. With further development, the world’s nations would strive for cruise missiles with higher accuracy, longer range, faster speeds, lower cruise altitudes, and better stealth capabilities.

With the coordination of the spy satellites and the intelligent system, the scene felt like a high-tech American blockbuster.

Considering this was the end times and no enemy possessed anti-missile capabilities—nor was there a fear of being detected—the cruise altitude was set at a relatively safe 100 meters above the ground as they sped toward their targets.

In the wilderness, the silhouettes of zombies moved periodically. They seemed to have lost their sense of direction, wandering aimlessly. After seven years, a massive number of zombies had become shriveled and dry.

The behavior of zombies completely defied human assumptions about nature and the laws of energy. It was understandable that they could move and attack when they first turned. However, as time passed, their flesh rotted and fell off in large chunks, yet it did not seem to affect them. Even after being baked in the sun until their necrotic flesh was parched, they still moved rapidly.

Regarding this, Huang Changnian of the Crystal Research Institute—the most authoritative research master—provided an explanation: the reason zombies could maintain their characteristics for so long was due to the existence of crystals. These crystals were a miraculous substance that could attract free energy from the air and inject it into the zombie.

While this theory still required verification, it was currently the only one that could clearly explain the phenomenon.

However, Huang Changnian predicted that the neural drives of ordinary zombies had already begun to rot and weaken. If his research was correct, they would soon lose their ability to move and attack, and would eventually be unable to survive. At that point, these masters of the global disaster would largely exit the stage of history, leaving behind only high-level zombies and the Special Infected.

High-level zombies and the Special Infected were mutated evolutionary bodies. Once their bone and flesh mutated, they were no longer like useless dead meat; they possessed their own biological functions. Much like humans, they could better adapt to the survival conditions on Earth.

This research prediction also meant that even if ordinary zombies died out in large numbers, humanity would still not be free from the crisis of the Great Catastrophe. They would still have to face vast numbers of high-level zombies and terrifying Special Infected, requiring arduous effort to eliminate them.

Undeniably, if Huang Changnian’s prediction came true, the zombie threat would be greatly diminished. However, this prediction caused the Strategic Department to treat the situation as if they were facing a formidable foe.

Without zombies, would Earth return to a period of peace as people hoped? The answer was, of course, no. The power vacuum and the excessive number of intricate, conflicting factions were instead the true great crisis facing humanity. Once war was sparked, it was foreseeable that the human death toll would be several times higher than those killed by zombies.

How could such a situation not make the Strategic Department feel the pressure of the impending crisis?

The fire and exhaust ejected by the high-speed cruise missiles caused the zombies below to look up at something they would never have the chance to understand. Their reaction to this mystery object that vanished in the blink of an eye was merely to take a few steps in the direction it disappeared, then spin around aimlessly a few times before resuming their wandering.

After seven years, villages lay in ruins. Under the wash of wind and rain, many earthen tile houses had collapsed; some entire villages had been reduced to rubble.

With nature returning to its normal state, the formation of storms had become much more frequent. Under their wanton fury, towns and villages that had lost their human presence were destroyed one by one. In rainy cities, thick moss grew on skyscrapers, and wildly growing plants appeared in the streets and alleys, turning once-vibrant cities into desolate wastes.

Perhaps in a few decades or a century, these abandoned cities would be overgrown with vegetation and giant trees. Animals that had multiplied would take up residence in the cities, turning ruined houses and vine-covered skyscrapers into their dens.

And by then, people would be carrying rifles into these lost ruins of cities, embarking on great adventures to reclaim wealth lost for a hundred years.

Simulating a holographic map spanning 1,000 kilometers was a task many computers could not handle. Only the intelligent system could perfectly simulate all of this. Even the current U.S. military lagged behind the post-apocalyptic Commercial Association in this technology; they could only use data simulation to track a missile’s status. In terms of practicality and data mastery, they were far behind the virtual holographic map technology.

After nearly an hour of flight, the Air-I cruise missiles finally approached their targets.

“Target proximity reached. Reconfirming target coordinates. Connecting to satellite. Data acquisition in progress… Target position data received. Data calibration in progress… Calibration complete. Sending correction data!”

A string of prompts from the intelligent system sounded. It performed almost all the work perfectly, an entirely automated process. Under its processing, the corrected data was transmitted to the cruise missiles. The missiles could be seen visibly shifting their path slightly, lunging fiercely toward their targets.

“Entering attack countdown: 10, 9, 8…”

On the massive screen, the cruise missiles could be clearly seen flying through the city streets like nimble elves, weaving around skyscrapers. Occasionally, a sudden, sharp turn would cause the people in the command center to let out gasps of alarm.

Through the holographic map, one could see the streets below teeming with zombies. They were as sensitive to the object flying over their heads as they were to sound, attempting to give chase. However, the sheer number of zombies in the streets and alleys prevented them from moving quickly.

In the blink of an eye, a massive zombie—the size of a small hill—appeared in the Air-I cruise missile’s sight, moving slowly through the street. It had a hideous, orc-like face. As it moved, it knocked down rows of billboards on both sides of the street, and shop signs cracked under its weight.

Looking at the unknown object that suddenly appeared, it merely tilted its head before the cruise missile struck its left side.

A violent explosion instantly compressed the air within several hundred meters. When it was suddenly released, roiling flames engulfed half the street. The buildings on either side, caught in this massive blast that spanned several hundred meters, were like fragile sandcastles, turning into ruins instantly.

As for the target itself—the terrifying massive horned zombie—the powerful air compression caused its skin, hard as iron, and its bones, strong as steel, to shatter. Like a ball of blood squeezed until it burst, countless fluids accompanied by chunks of flesh and bone were turned to ash in the flames. Some remains were blasted into nearby buildings by the shockwave, becoming a blur of gore and meat paste.

The entire city trembled and shook from the four successive massive explosions. The sea of zombies in the streets became lost and bewildered. Only moments later, as if they had discovered a new world, they began to surge frantically toward the four blast sites.

From the horizon, one could see four massive mushroom clouds rising into the sky from four different parts of the city.

Chapter 341: Yuanshan City

The cost of air-launched cruise missiles was prohibitively high. Using a single missile just to eliminate a few zombies seemed far too extravagant. More importantly, their destructive power was simply too great for urban environments. The new warhead technology resulted in nothing less than sheer, unbridled destruction.

Across four target points in the city, nearly half a street at each location was reduced to rubble in the blasts. These air-launched cruise missiles, specifically designed to target large equipment and industrial facilities, proved terrifyingly effective against buildings.

Such an effect was expected; these first four missiles were largely experimental in nature.

After gathering the necessary data, the remaining cruise missiles were not fitted with the same destructive warheads. Instead, they were upgraded to the IA-type, which carried crystal warheads. These could discharge millions of volts of electricity, ensuring the target was killed while leaving the surrounding buildings intact.

Strictly speaking, the Commercial Association’s weaponry had begun to move away from traditional gunpowder and toward more powerful crystal weaponry. As large-scale crystal weaponry was deployed to the troops, traditional ammunition for missiles, aerial bombs, and even artillery shells was gradually being replaced by crystal-based alternatives.

In the span of three years, the armory had undergone eleven expansions. It was now the largest military enterprise in the entire Commercial Association, responsible for both the research and manufacture of weapons. Everything from pistol bullets to strategic-level weaponry fell within its production scope. The air-launched cruise missiles, for instance, were successfully reverse-engineered and improved upon by the armory.

To support the General Staff’s plans, the armory had halted the production of traditional artillery shells to focus all efforts on various missiles and aerial bombs.

Every day, nearly five air-launched cruise missiles and sixty guided missiles left the armory to enter the Air Force’s Logistics Department. From there, the Logistics Department distributed them to various airbases to be stored in ammunition depots. Aerial bombs, produced in even greater quantities, were calculated by the ton.

Following the success of the first round of live-fire cruise missile tests, the spy satellites acted like industrious bees, scouting the cities closest to Qingyuan City to identify the most valuable targets. Generally, within a range of four to five hundred kilometers, once a target was confirmed, at least two fighter jets would scramble from one of the airfields at the Wasteland Military Base to carry out the strike.

Upon reaching the airspace above the target, these fighter jets would often launch guided air-to-ground missiles from high altitudes before quickly peeling away.

Equipped with guidance systems and programmed with target data, the missiles functioned with ruthless precision. Once detached from the aircraft, they pounced on their targets like hungry wolves. At missile speeds, they struck within moments, triggering violent explosions that sent high-level zombies and Special Infected straight to hell.

Even if a target managed to survive due to a minor accuracy error, the fighter jets would typically follow up with a second round of attacks. Given that they could carry up to sixteen assorted missiles, any zombie singled out had no chance of survival. Their only end was death; the only variable was whether it came sooner or later.

Meanwhile, the Army’s first vanguard unit had begun its march south. Over four hundred tanks moved forward, avoiding the highways to prevent damage to the road surface. They advanced alongside the roads, trailing clouds of thick smoke that could be seen for nearly ten kilometers. For a tank, the flat terrain of the wasteland meant that any path could be their road.

The logistical pressure to resupply over four hundred tanks was immense; the fuel requirements alone were enough to drive the Logistics Department mad.

The Rhino Tank utilized an 883 kW (1,200 hp) turbocharged, intercooled high-power diesel engine. It could reach a maximum road speed of 70 km/h—the same engine used in the Type 99 tank—and its fuel consumption reached 410 liters per 100 km. For over four hundred tanks, the fuel consumption per 100 km reached a staggering 173,000 liters of diesel.

The closest city south of Qingyuan City was Yuanshan City, approximately 430 km away. A single refueling would allow the Rhino Tanks to reach it.

For the vanguard, the tank units weren’t actually intended for a frontal charge. Their role was to establish temporary camps around the city’s perimeter to ensure the safety of the following ground troops. In truth, the primary reason was simply the weight of the tanks; without railways or transport aircraft capable of carrying them, they had to advance over land.

Considering that four hundred tanks would absolutely crush any road surface they traversed, it would take the tank units two days to cover the 430 km to the city.

The supply chain for such a massive tank force prioritized three things: first, fuel; second, replacement parts; and third, ammunition, water, and grain for the tankers. Without the massive transport airships, the Commercial Association could never have relied on trucks to keep these tanks supplied.

The tanks maintained a speed of 40 km/h across the wasteland sands, forming two long columns on either side of the highway. Above them, five transport airships flew at cruising speed. With a massive payload capacity of 120 tons each, they were more than capable of serving as the logistical backbone for this tank unit.

The moment the tank units set out, fighter jets began taking off from the airbases. After forming ranks, they were followed by heavy bombers, which were escorted toward Yuanshan City, 430 km away.

The first wave of the true offensive was officially underway.

At the same time, the Southern Army Group had finished assembling. Under their commanders’ orders, they began boarding the transport airships. These massive vessels could deploy 100,000 soldiers to the battlefield at once. The pressure of troop transport was perfectly resolved by the extensive use of airships.

The Air Force had reached a scale of 32 aviation divisions, totaling 96 aviation regiments, with a total of 2,500 aircraft of various types.

For the operation against Yuanshan City, the Air Force deployed five aviation divisions simultaneously—a total of 400 fighter jets. They formed a dark, swarming mass as they bore down on the city.

While 32 aviation divisions sounded like a massive force, it was actually barely enough when put into practice. Because the Air Force was responsible for striking sixteen cities across the southeast, each city was assigned exactly two aviation divisions.

Every morning, a vast number of fighter jets would scramble, heading for their respective target cities to conduct intense bombing runs. They dropped tons of bombs into the city streets, dealing devastating blows to the zombie population. After the introduction of crystal warheads, they achieved large-scale lethality. Zombie after zombie collapsed in the streets under the arcing electricity.

With such overwhelming air power, the Commercial Association’s strategy was simple: use the Air Force to wipe out the majority of the threat, then send in ground troops to sweep the remaining zombies with the support of tanks and armored vehicles. For a city where most of the zombies had already been neutralized, the threat level became very low, posing little danger to the ground troops.

If they encountered any particularly “abnormal” high-level zombies, the air-launched cruise missiles were more than enough to send them to the afterlife.

As the target for the ground forces’ upcoming assault, Yuanshan City would be the first city reclaimed under the General Mobilization Order. To boost morale, a blitzkrieg tactic would be used to resolve the battle quickly, which would carry profound significance for both the soldiers and the civilians.

Yuanshan City had been subjected to daily bombing raids for a week already. Looking from a distance, clouds of thick smoke could be seen rising from the rows of high-rise buildings. Many had collapsed under the bombardment, while even more had been gutted by fires.

Zhou Yuanqiang had given clear instructions in the mobilization order: “If the city is gone, we can rebuild it. Do not hesitate to bomb a beautiful building just because zombies are hiding inside. We will not let our soldiers risk their lives rushing in to fight them hand-to-hand. Everything that can be destroyed will be targeted if it reduces our casualties. If ten buildings and a hundred bombs can save the life of a single soldier, I will choose the buildings and bombs every time.”

“However,” he added, “unnecessary bombing is forbidden. We cannot spend all this effort to reclaim a city that has been reduced entirely to rubble.”

The Air Force pilots were overjoyed by these instructions. To them, it was clearly a green light to let loose.

With the Chairman’s “Imperial Sword” of authority in hand, the pilots’ attacks on the city could only be described as a saturation bombardment. Entire streets were reduced to ruins. Under this tactic, the zombies had nowhere to hide. Vast numbers of them were torn apart by the explosions or fell amidst the fires.

By the time the tank units arrived outside Yuanshan City, hundreds of plumes of smoke were rising from the urban center. The city was severely damaged. At first glance, everyone shook their heads; Yuanshan City was a wreck. With over 20% of its buildings destroyed, the cost in manpower and resources to rebuild would be astronomical.

Hou Yingqiang, the commander of the tank unit, held up his binoculars and gazed at Yuanshan City in the distance.

“Those spendthrifts… they really went for it,” he muttered.

Through the lenses, the streets looked as if they had been plowed. Not a single one was intact. Collapsed buildings lined both sides of the roads; some skyscraper collapses had buried entire sections of the street. Massive concrete slabs were everywhere, power poles were downed, and billboards peeked out from the rubble.

Despite the wastefulness, he had to admit the bombing was effective.

The streets that should have been teeming with zombies now only held two or three wandering ghouls. The ruinous state of the streets meant the zombies couldn’t wander as they used to. They were forced to climb over massive boulders of concrete, often slipping into gaps where they remained trapped. Some got stuck in fissures while moving and couldn’t pull themselves out no matter how they struggled.

But that wasn’t the most important part. Beneath the ruins lay layer upon layer of zombies that had been crushed into pulp. A few lucky ones whose lower bodies had been pinned down were mindlessly waving their claws. Every so often, they would snap their heads around in a jerky, neurological twitch, staring forward with vacant eyes.

After a week of bombing, the majority of the zombies in a city of a million people had fallen to the fires of war.

In Hou Yingqiang’s view, Yuanshan City was now like a piece of overripe fruit. His tank unit alone could likely clear out the remaining zombies and reclaim the city without much effort. However, military discipline and the General Staff’s deployment plans were not to be violated.

As he lowered his binoculars, the 400 assorted aircraft of the five aviation divisions appeared in the sky, arriving ahead of the transport airships.

“Still bombing?”

This time even Hou Yingqiang was baffled. There were only a few stray “cats and dogs” left in Yuanshan City; why was the Air Force still getting involved? Was their ammunition supply truly that limitless? Hou Yingqiang felt a pang of regret seeing a perfectly good city fall into such a state of ruin at their hands.

Consider that a typical military region only possessed about five aviation divisions. The 400 aircraft currently deployed were truly a sky-blotting force, casting a shadow over the entire city. As soon as they reached the airspace above Yuanshan City, missiles trailing faint smoke pounced on the few remaining zombies.

However, this time there were no explosions as Hou Yingqiang expected. Using his binoculars, he saw flashes of purple-white electrical arcs dancing in the streets.

The already sparse zombie population was decimated. Now, the streets were deathly silent, with no resistance left. For those hiding inside high-rises, the missiles would punch through the outer walls and release high-voltage charges inside, electrocuting every zombie within.

The jets were like a flock of crows circling the sky, and Yuanshan City was the carrion; by the time they left, only a skeleton remained.

Once the swarm of fighter jets departed, the massive transport airships from the direction of the Commercial Association arrived, sailing slowly through the air. Half an hour later, they appeared over the tank columns. One by one, they descended in order, landing on the outskirts of Yuanshan City under the guidance of the tankers.

Squads of fully armed soldiers disembarked from the airships. Massive amounts of heavy equipment were unloaded and assembled into artillery batteries.

The transport and unloading of 100,000 troops took most of the day to complete. Once their task was finished, the transport airships slowly ascended into the high altitudes, waiting for the victory in Yuanshan City before they would ferry the soldiers to the next city.

After a night of rest, the next morning, squads of soldiers followed closely behind the columns of tanks as they began their entry into the city.

In the suburbs of Yuanshan City, the damage wasn’t very high; signs of bombing were only present in areas that had been densely packed. The two lead tanks had no interest in the scattered zombies. Their engines roared with powerful horsepower as they crushed their way through the streets toward the city center.

The soldiers following behind the tanks sighed as they looked at the derelict state of Yuanshan City and the moss growing on the high-rises.

The scattered zombies the tanks ignored were the true prey for the soldiers. Thanks to long hours of live-fire practice, they could easily land headshots on zombies within fifty meters, whether they were standing, running, or prone. The soldiers moved in pace with the tanks, raising their rifles and firing whenever they spotted a zombie.

The Air Force’s terrifying bombardment had focused primarily on the city proper. In the suburbs, the zombie density wasn’t high enough to warrant the Air Force’s attention, leaving the “scraps” for the ground troops. Led by the tanks, every street was cleared with almost no resistance.

The tanks, facing no real threat, left the zombies on the roadside to the soldiers. Any zombie unlucky enough to stand directly in front of a tank was simply knocked down and crushed into unidentifiable pulp under the roaring treads.

Throughout the entire advance, the looming main guns of the tanks didn’t even need to fire a single shell to reclaim the northern suburbs.

A Rhino Tank crested a street that looked like a wasteland of ruins. The road was filled with concrete debris from the bombing, with jagged rebar sticking out of the rubble. The tens of tons of steel monster, driven by its massive horsepower, treated the ruins like flat ground, advancing steadily through the heaving wreckage.

After a moment, the turret rotated as it scanned the surroundings and pointed toward the front of the street. A burst of flame spat from the barrel, and a large section of concrete wall blocking the way was blown to pieces. As the smoke drifted, the grim face of the tank emerged from the haze, charging straight through.

A few zombies hiding behind the wall were knocked into the ruins by the impact and then crushed by the roaring tank, ground into the dust along with the concrete slabs and broken bricks.

From high above, one could see dozens of long columns led by tanks, piercing into the city from the north like dozens of sharp sword blades. These columns met almost no resistance as they swept through the suburbs and pushed into the city center. The urban area, where almost no zombies remained, offered even less resistance, allowing the columns to pass through and eventually occupy every street and alley in the city.

Yuanshan City, with its population of one million, was captured with almost zero casualties. The only price paid was a week of continuous bombing by the Air Force.

For the Commercial Association, this was a predicted outcome. When the battle reports arrived, everyone in the command center remained busy with their own tasks. A victory that would have been considered monumental in the past was now treated as a minor achievement, failing to draw anyone’s special attention.

The Southern Army Group only rested in Yuanshan City for half a day before they began their march toward the next city: Lijiang City.

Chapter 342: The Sound of Splashing Water

Lijiang City should have originally been called Lijiang County. It was named after the Li River, which flows through the heart of the county seat.

The reason it was upgraded from a county to a city and leaped into the ranks of second-tier cities was the construction of the Lijiang Hydropower Station. Relying on a series of supporting facilities and the five-year engineering project as a springboard, the local government vigorously pursued investment and successfully drove economic development.

By the time the Lijiang Hydropower Station was completed, those five years had already laid a solid foundation for the former Lijiang County. Seizing the opportunity to provide power to several neighboring cities and benefiting from the favorable policies of the time—which felt like a fresh spring breeze—the entire Lijiang County experienced a new burst of economic prosperity. It eventually became a prefecture-level city, and after another ten years of development, it joined the ranks of second-tier cities, becoming a legend of urban growth.

Unfortunately, while the Li River that nurtured the people of Lijiang remained, the people themselves had vanished from the earth forever. They had become zombies. Although they still resided in Lijiang City and along the banks of the river, they were no longer the same.

The Lijiang Hydropower Station finally ceased operation and stopped supplying power a year and a half after the apocalypse began. This ended the electricity supply for several cities, including Qingyuan City and Yuanshan City.

After nearly six years without maintenance, the equipment began to experience various failures. Large numbers of high-voltage transmission lines collapsed under the power of nature. Zhou Yuanqiang had once considered an airborne mission to the Lijiang Hydropower Station to repair and put it back into use. However, given the widespread issues with the high-altitude power grid, the exorbitant repair costs, and the excessive length of the transmission lines, he ultimately abandoned the idea.

The entire tank division, consisting of 432 tanks and nearly 100,000 soldiers trailing behind, advanced with unstoppable force. They carved a path from Yuanshan City toward Lijiang City. Across the 120-kilometer distance, numerous villages and small towns fell before the human advance.

County seats, towns, and villages built along the highway offered almost no resistance. They were crushed by the army under the assault of the tanks and the subsequent massive offensive by the infantry. All that remained were the corpses of zombies sprawled across streets, in ditches, and between buildings.

The army did not stop to harvest the crystals from the zombies’ heads; the logistics units would naturally handle those details later.

Lijiang’s suitability as a site for a large hydropower station came from its abundant water source, which met all the station’s requirements. Over the last few years, the absence of human destruction of nature had made the water even more plentiful. The entire Li River, which had once been somewhat murky, had returned to its former state—crystal clear, with the bottom visible.

Several fighter jets, having completed their final patrol after the arrival of the ground forces, flew away like soldiers finishing their last watch and handing over their posts.

The entirety of Lijiang City was bathed in the glow of the setting sun. The fires of war had not destroyed the city too severely. Only a few thick columns of smoke billowed up; most were just small wisps of gray smoke. Anyone with experience knew that thick plumes of smoke indicated areas with dense zombie populations or the presence of high-level zombies—targets that received special bombardment. The smaller wisps were merely the residual smoke from buildings affected when the streets were bombed.

Regardless, the Air Force, acting as the vanguard, had essentially cleared the majority of the zombies. Their role in allowing the ground forces to quickly reclaim the city was immeasurable.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the tank units halted at the Lijiang Bridge. After sending out testers to confirm the bridge could support the weight, the troops continued their advance. After crossing the Lijiang Bridge, they encountered residential buildings that lined the highway all the way to the suburbs of Lijiang City.

The roar of the tank engines could not be hidden from the sensitive ears of the zombies. Even before the troops had finished crossing the bridge, zombies from the outskirts—who had largely escaped the bombardment—began to swarm them.

The tank division led by Hou Yingqiang had dealt with plenty of zombies on this journey. Zombies frequently emerged from the villages and towns they passed. At first, the tank crews had enough patience to “play” with them. Later, they lost interest entirely, simply using machine guns to strafe them into cripples, leaving them writhing on the ground before crushing them under the tank treads. Then, everything would return to silence.

The zombies now emerging started in the dozens, quickly becoming hundreds, then thousands, and finally a continuous mass. The dark tide consisted of at least ten thousand undead.

With night approaching, it was impossible to launch the final assault on Lijiang City. They had to camp here and wait for dawn. Taking advantage of the lingering twilight, Hou Yingqiang directly issued the order to attack.

On this highway, the four hundred-odd tanks could at most move four abreast. When the tanks stopped, they stretched back along the road like an endless line of giant beasts in the approaching night. However, against the zombies crowding the highway, four tanks side-by-side were enough to unleash a metal storm.

The tanks could engage targets as far as 25 kilometers away or as close as 2 kilometers. But the minimum effective distance depended on the tactics used. In this instance, the four tanks in the front row lowered their gun barrels to the minimum elevation. Upon Hou Yingqiang’s order, the tank commanders gave the command to fire without hesitation.

Four bursts of orange-red flame appeared, and thick gunpowder smoke belched from the barrels. Compressed by the explosion, the shells shot out of the chambers and plunged directly into the zombie crowd several hundred meters away.

Through terrifying direct fire combined with massive kinetic force, the shells smashed through lines of zombies before finally exploding in the densest part of the swarm.

To the zombies—who had been walking corpses for seven years, weathered by the elements and brittle as skeletons—the explosion was like a meat grinder hitting rotten wood. They shattered instantly. The overpressure of the blast and the sweeping shockwave instantly cleared a vacuum several meters in diameter.

With an ammunition capacity of 45 rounds and an autoloader, the Rhino Tank reached a rate of fire of 11 rounds per minute. The four tanks blocking the road were like four gods of slaughter. Their rapid reloading maintained a continuous wall of fire. Every time the lowered barrels spat tongues of flame, at least dozens of zombies fell in the explosions.

The 7.62mm coaxial machine guns strafed frantically, tearing apart the limbs of any zombies lucky enough to survive the shells.

A swarm of over ten thousand zombies might seem insignificant compared to millions or billions, but spread out across this highway, they formed a black mass that seemed to have no end.

The first four tanks nearly exhausted their ammunition, but they had only killed about a third of the swarm. Once their ammo ran dry, the four tanks immediately roared their engines, turned sharply, and forced their way to the side of the road, smashing through roadside buildings to clear the way for the tanks behind them.

Using this tactic, by the time the third wave of tanks was finishing its ammunition, not a single intact zombie remained on the highway.

The tank units then drove directly over the pitted and scarred ground. The crippled zombies still crawling were crushed into splatters. The tanks left tracks wet with ichor, which were then pulverized by the following tanks until every trace of the zombies was ground into the dirt.

As the last light of sunset faded and the world surrendered to darkness, the tank division finally found a campsite in a large suburban freight yard.

To coordinate with the ground troops, the tank division had moved fitfully, covering only about 40 kilometers a day. The 120-kilometer journey, which should have taken two hours, had taken three days. Fortunately, fighting zombies wasn’t like fighting human enemies; there was no need to worry about enemy air support, clever tactical maneuvers, or extreme time sensitivity.

Zombies didn’t flee. No matter how strong the offensive, they would stay in the city, foolishly waiting for the humans to come to them.

Armed with several days of experience in the field, as soon as the tank units stopped to rest, each battalion organized a defensive formation according to its duties, forming a perimeter with the tanks. The transport airships that had been following overhead descended from the night sky once the camp was secure to resupply the tanks and bring food and water for the soldiers.

Five transport airships, with their massive cargo capacity, provided five days’ worth of supplies for the entire division. After completing the delivery, they flew back to Qingyuan City in the dead of night. At their speed, they would reach headquarters in six hours, restock, and return by dawn to hover once more over the tanks at Lijiang City.

As the tanks were powered down one by one, the night finally grew quiet.

The tank crews, exhausted from the day’s work, ate a quick dinner and fell into deep sleep in their temporary tents, save for those on sentry duty.

In Hou Yingqiang’s command tent, while the soldiers slept, he could not. He had to attack Lijiang City in the morning. He needed to draft the battle plan, assign tasks to the tank battalions, designate which streets each would lead the charge on, and then transmit these plans to the infantry army groups behind them so they could sweep through Lijiang City in coordination.

After the heavy bombardment by the Air Force, more than half of the zombies in Lijiang City had been eliminated. Reclaiming the second city was a certainty.

The terrain of Lijiang City was the complete opposite of the Wildlands. It was mountainous and heavily forested, with uneven ground. Moving into March, the weather had turned cold. Because it was in the south, the region’s characteristic misty rain meant that light drizzles occurred every few days. The last few days had been particularly overcast, and thunderstorms frequently broke out at night, causing great difficulty for the camp.

Once the plan was finished and sent via radio to the ground command center following behind, Hou Yingqiang rubbed his aching neck and stepped outside the tent. A gust of cold wind made him shiver. He endured the cold to look at the sky; there wasn’t a single star, only dense black clouds. It looked like more rain was coming.

Sure enough, a fine drizzle began to fall in the middle of the night. Even huddled under blankets, the chill was palpable.

By early morning, a thick fog had rolled in. Visibility was less than ten meters. In such low visibility, not even the tanks dared to move, let alone the infantry. This kind of weather was the ideal operating time for zombies, as they could use the fog to close the distance.

In traditional warfare, one must have a thorough understanding of local terrain and climate.

However, given the unique nature of the apocalypse and the feeling that nothing could truly threaten them anymore, such concerns about “the right time and place” had largely been tossed aside. To more and more people, as long as you were killing zombies, you were contributing to humanity. As the old saying went: “It doesn’t matter if the cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice.”

And so, the tank division had rumbled its way here. In their view, after the Air Force’s “baptism,” there were few zombies left in the city, and they couldn’t possibly threaten steel behemoths like tanks. Furthermore, with reconnaissance airships overhead, it was nearly impossible for zombies to approach undetected.

Most of the tank crews had never seen such a thick fog, and many found it novel.

Hou Yingqiang had originally assumed the fog would last half an hour, or an hour at most, and would be burned away as soon as the sun rose. But things exceeded his expectations. Seven o’clock became eight-thirty, and the fog showed no sign of dissipating. Instead, it grew thicker, until visibility was down to a mere five meters.

“How can the fog be this thick?”

This was a question not even Hou Yingqiang could answer. Even the high-ranking officers were seeing such a rare, massive fog for the first time.

Although the Commercial Association’s communication satellites were still under development, they had communication airships acting as relays to keep signals clear. In this situation, they had no choice but to turn to the Commercial Association and use spy satellites to confirm the extent of the fog.

The satellite receiving station soon sent a satellite image to Hou Yingqiang. The image showed that the fog blanketed more than half of the Lijiang region. It was a fog of monumental proportions.

Inside the tent, the encroaching damp cold was biting. Yet, given the cramped space inside the tanks, no one wanted to stay in them either.

Hou Yingqiang stayed in the command tent, looking over the previous night’s plan. He said to the accompanying staff officer, “It looks like our morning plan will have to wait until this fog clears. Hah, back in the Wildlands, the morning sun would have burned this off before seven o’clock.”

The staff officer, Lu Youqing, was a thin middle-aged man with glasses. Like most people, he had suffered from long-term malnutrition, and even a man of iron would have been reduced to skin and bones over the years. His broad thinking was the reason he had become the tank division’s staff officer.

Hearing Hou Yingqiang, Lu Youqing replied, “Commander, the climate here is close to the south, which conflicts with the weather from our Wildlands. That’s likely why the fog is so persistent. It should be fine once the sun gets higher. However, we should prepare our defenses. Visibility is extremely low, and we cannot afford to be careless.”

Hou Yingqiang was also worried. He felt a lingering sense of unease beneath the cover of the fog. Only after he issued the order for all personnel to enter combat readiness did that anxiety lessen slightly.

As the only tank division currently under the Southern Front’s command, its organization differed from the armies of old. It consisted of four tank regiments but lacked armored infantry, artillery, or anti-aircraft regiments. It directly commanded a reconnaissance battalion, a chemical defense battalion, an anti-tank battalion, a repair battalion, and a transport battalion. It was a pure armored force of four regiments, totaling 432 tanks.

The number of tanks was higher than a standard three-regiment division, and since they faced no armored opponents, the other traditional support regiments had been eliminated. The reconnaissance battalion had been largely replaced by the reconnaissance airships in the sky, while repairs and transport were handled by the five transport airships.

The unique nature of the post-apocalyptic world meant military organizations would never mirror those of the old world; they had to undergo significant changes.

A tank division was also generally called an armored division. Due to the haste of the mobilization and the fact that the Armored Vehicle Factory was distracted by building the supercarrier, they had only produced enough for two tank divisions in eight months. Although tank production had doubled after the completion of the supercarrier, it wouldn’t impact the current reclamation campaign much.

The Commercial Association’s population meant the number of tanks would likely be capped at five tank divisions, or about 2,200 tanks.

However, the existence of intelligent systems was beginning to liberate a large amount of labor. The entire Commercial Association was shifting toward higher levels of automation. The Armored Vehicle Factory was already working on the second generation of the Rhino Tank, which would be automated, replacing soldiers with intelligent systems. At the same time, new armored robots—forces more adaptable to various terrains—were also under research.

It wasn’t just the Armored Vehicle Factory; the Aircraft Factory was also implementing a plan for intelligent aircraft.

In Chen Wenbo’s words, if the Commercial Association wanted to break through its population bottleneck and increase its military strength, it had to rely on extensive automation. This would reduce the number of combat personnel and allow for the expansion of automated production lines, releasing more labor for positions that intelligent systems could not yet fill.

In fact, the Commercial Association was already doing this, though it couldn’t be completed all at once. It was a gradual transition.

As for the Special Aircraft Factory—currently the association’s most mysterious facility—no one knew exactly what they were tinkering with. However, it was certain that they were working on the application of super engines. Anyone with even a slight inkling of the project knew that any aircraft utilizing a super crystal reaction engine would be a titan of the skies. But what would it look like?

With his rank as a Colonel, Hou Yingqiang was not part of the inner circle and had no way of knowing.

Shortly after nine o’clock, the fog showed the first signs of thinning. But that intense feeling of unease, rather than dissipating with the fog, grew even stronger. Specifically, the Li River, where the sound of flowing water had previously been faint, suddenly erupted with a loud “huala” splashing sound, as if something was crawling out of the water onto the land.

Even more terrifying was that the sound was massive in scale, like a vast number of things were making landfall from the Li River all at once.

Chapter 343: Shadows in the Fog

The wonder of the world lies in its mystery and unpredictability. It is as if you can never truly know what will happen in the next moment.

The city had been scanned countless times by reconnaissance planes, hovered over by reconnaissance airships, captured in numerous satellite images from spy satellites, and flown over by screaming fighter jet formations. Even during days of relentless bombing, everything had seemed safe—extraordinarily safe. The Bird Zombies that everyone had worried about did not engage in the expected life-and-death struggle with the Air Force. As a second-tier city with a population of over eight hundred thousand, Lijiang City could only let out a cry of despair under the bombardment of the fighter jet squadrons.

The steel beasts known as Rhino Tanks appeared in Lijiang City, their engines letting out low, muffled roars. They crossed the Lijiang Bridge with a majestic, unstoppable air. Aside from a small “appetizer” encounter when they first crossed the bridge, no more zombies appeared. The entire tank division spent a peaceful night.

All signs pointed to the fact that Lijiang City posed no threat. After Yuanshan City, it would be the next city to fall back into human hands.

In the human mind, the massive, overwhelming fog was nothing more than a natural phenomenon. It didn’t seem like a threat. Moreover, with the existence of anti-fog lights, even if visibility wasn’t as clear as usual, the thick fog would certainly not be enough to stop the troops’ advance.

Having easily reclaimed Yuanshan City, the zombies encountered along the way had been powerless to resist. Under the wings of the hardworking “bees” of the Air Force, most obstacles had been cleared for the ground troops. What remained for the ground forces was essentially just cleaning up. With the presence of reconnaissance planes and the precision of missile strikes, any truly threatening zombies should have been sent to hell long ago.

Under such circumstances, who would have thought that powerful zombies would still appear among the ranks of the undead?

But the world is a curious place, always playing one trick after another on humanity. Lijiang, which had shown no signs of life despite the bombing and the roar of tank engines, revealed its unknown talons under the cover of this overwhelming fog and the eerie, unnatural silence.

A sound like “clack, clack, clack…” echoed, sounding like a noise produced by the contraction of a zombie’s throat. Such peculiar sounds usually heralded the grand entrance of a new type of zombie.

Starting from the sound of unusual splashing—the sound of something massive emerging from the water—it felt as if a heavy-tonnage object was walking on land. The ground trembled just like it did when a tank passed by. In an instant, the face of Hou Yingqiang, the Colonel and division commander, turned pale.

Piercing sirens wailed frantically throughout the tank division, cutting through the dense fog.

The tank crews, only half of whom had been on alert, were momentarily stunned by the sudden alarm. It took the roars of their officers for them to drop everything and sprint toward their tanks like panthers bursting with sudden speed, disappearing into the steel hulls.

Engine roars broke out shortly after. The deep, low vibration of the engines provided a sense of wild power and stability in the disorienting fog, like a safe harbor.

Without a moment to lose, Hou Yingqiang rushed out of his tent. In the biting cold wind, he scrambled into the nearby command vehicle. Once inside, he donned his headset and began barking orders, directing the tanks to quickly deploy into combat formation within their limited space.

Their camp was not far from the Li River. If not for the roar of the tank engines, the sound of the flowing water would have been clearly audible.

The collective ignition of 432 tanks acted as a beacon in the fog. The twelve tanks of the 1st Tank Company were the first to move out amidst the roar. With their anti-fog lights switched on, their visibility was barely enough to allow these steel monsters to advance slowly through the mist.

The 1st Tank Company primarily served as a reconnaissance unit, heading down the original road toward the Lijiang Bridge.

The road had been ground down by the passage of numerous tanks, the metal treads wearing away a layer of the surface to reveal a fine, grayish-white concrete dust. The scars of yesterday evening’s battle were still fresh; numerous severed limbs lay scattered on the road, emitting a thick, putrid stench. In the craters left by explosions, one could still find various zombie parts.

The “clack, clack, clack” sound grew closer. Blocked by the heavy fog, human sight could not perceive what manner of creature was making the noise.

Leading the advancing Rhino Tank company was tank number 7. Five meters behind it, the other tanks followed closely. As the tank commander, Li Jiangang was currently monitoring everything outside through the observation system. Unfortunately, his field of vision was a sea of white; he could only faintly make out the outlines of buildings on either side of the road.

A tank commander did not just provide direction; they also had to be prepared for the task of override firing. In many sudden events, the gunner might not react in time. This required the commander to immediately take over the gunner’s duties and control the tank’s main cannon to attack. A commander’s wider field of view and their reaction speed often determined whether a tank’s survival probability was high or low.

When the peculiar sound reached their immediate vicinity, the tank company fanned out. Four tanks moved abreast on the highway, their cannons aimed directly ahead toward the source of the noise.

A loud “clack” rang out, even drowning out the roar of the twelve tank engines. Within the white mist, a blurry shadow suddenly emerged following the sound.

Li Jiangang’s mouth hung open slightly. The blurry shadow stood over 10 meters tall, with a massive body the size of a building. Although he couldn’t see its face clearly, a thick, fishy stench wafted over, as if the creature had just stepped out of the ocean. The smell triggered an instinctive urge to gag.

It was a reflexive reaction. At such a close range, there was no need for aiming. Li Jiangang, controlling the fire control system via override, fired a shell.

The law of survival in the apocalypse was simple: when facing zombies, no matter the situation, strike first. Never give them the chance to use their abilities. Countless battles had proven this. One did not need to show mercy to zombies because they didn’t need it, nor were they capable of it. Between humans and zombies, only one side would remain standing.

A tongue of flame spat from the tank’s muzzle. The entire tank seemed to be shrouded in smoke as the whistling shell tore through the air, instantly vanishing into the heavy fog.

There was a thunderous explosion, followed by the sound of flying concrete debris and the sight of fog roiling from the blast.

However, before they had a chance to check the results, a billowing wave of black mist suddenly replaced the white fog. It swept toward the entire tank company like a shockwave. Before they could react, the entire company was swallowed by the black mist.

Li Jiangang felt as if he had fallen into endless darkness. His entire observation system went completely black; he could no longer see a single thing.

Without needing orders, the driver switched on the infrared lights. At the same time, the company commander’s voice crackled into the ears of every tank commander: “Numbers five through twelve, hold positions! Numbers one through four, charge! Break out of this strange black mist! With our armor, those zombies can’t possibly threaten our safety.”

The company commander was right. With their immense armor plating, they were not something a zombie could easily breach. As soon as this strange black mist passed, the zombies would be like fish on a chopping block beneath the tanks.

But very soon, Li Jiangang realized something was wrong. He felt a numbing sensation in his nostrils, as if they were turning stiff. Then, this numbness spread to every part of his body, as if he had been injected with an anesthetic. His entire body became paralyzed, and his consciousness began to blur. Though he was aware of what was happening, it was already too late. In an instant, he plunged into darkness.

Wherever the rolling black mist passed, the tanks it enveloped ground to a halt. The engines were still roaring, but the tanks no longer moved.

“Calling 1st Company HQ. Come in, please respond! Come in, respond!”

The radio operator’s voice became frantic. After several failed attempts to get a response, he realized the gravity of the situation. He turned to look at the anxious Hou Yingqiang and said, “Sir, we’ve lost contact with the 1st Company!”

Hou Yingqiang’s heart skipped a beat. His expression shifted, and he gritted his teeth. “Keep calling!”

They had only heard a single cannon blast, and just moments before, the 1st Company had reported back, confirming they were safe. Yet in the blink of an eye, everything had changed. The 1st Tank Company, bolstered by twelve Rhino Tanks, had vanished without a sound, wiped from the tank division’s active roster.

“What kind of power can cut off contact with a heavy tank company in an instant?”

Losing contact meant the worst had likely happened. Cruelty had always been a core theme of the apocalypse. Some said people in the post-apocalyptic world were cold and heartless, but that coldness was built upon countless deaths. From the initial viral outbreak to the loss of loved ones as millions turned into zombies, the hits kept coming. But that wasn’t the most fatal part. In the exodus of tens of thousands of survivors, scenes of backstabbing and betrayal played out constantly as people did anything to stay alive and escape the clutches of the undead.

Zombies killing humans, and humans killing humans—this had been the most tragic theme of the first year of the apocalypse. It seemed there was never anyone near you who could be trusted.

The drastic reduction in food supplies was what drove humanity into its most desperate straits. Outside, zombies were everywhere; inside, they sat waiting, and without food, it was a death sentence. Thus, the tragedies of ancient wartime began to play out in the apocalypse. Cannibalism occurred frequently. Those with twisted minds began to find pleasure in killing and eating others, enacting scenes that challenged the very limits of human nature.

Who among those who had experienced this would still have “righteousness” or “compassion”? Those feelings had long been washed away by the apocalypse.

It was only the establishment and promotion of the Commercial Association that gradually brought these hardened survivors back into a functioning society. But soldiers still frequently faced death, whether from a zombie’s lightning-fast claw or its sharp, biting teeth. Soldiers had to face death—their own and their comrades’.

As a commander, especially a high-ranking one, Hou Yingqiang could not let casualties cloud his judgment. Killing required decisiveness. To become the commander of a tank division, he already possessed these traits. His first thought upon losing the 1st Company was not grief for the twelve tanks or the dozens of men, but rather what kind of power had swallowed them.

“Level the surrounding houses. Move out in company units and spread the entire division thin.”

Hou Yingqiang believed that whatever could take out an entire tank company in such a short time had to be a wide-area weapon or ability.

In traditional warfare, bunching up a tank division was suicidal, but in the apocalypse where they only faced zombies, it usually increased their combat effectiveness. They didn’t have to worry about a sudden barrage of artillery falling from the sky to wipe them out.

Old tank tactics definitely needed to be revised when facing zombies.

The thunderous boom of cannons destroyed the residential houses and buildings flanking the tanks. The collapsing structures kicked up massive clouds of dust, which, mixed with the thick fog, made visibility even worse. The roaring tanks ground directly over the ruins, appearing incredibly menacing under the shroud of dust.

The “clack, clack, clack” sounds reached them through the roar of the engines.

Hou Yingqiang tilted his ear toward the direction of the noise. Without hesitation, he roared into the command vehicle’s radio: “2nd Regiment, target the source of those sounds. Mass fire!” He had a powerful premonition that the owners of those sounds were the ones responsible for the disappearance of the 1st Company.

In this apocalypse, no other force besides zombies could possibly be here. Thus, Hou Yingqiang didn’t need confirmation before ordering his men to open fire. For him, it didn’t matter if he was right or wrong; as long as he could keep these unknown entities from getting closer and wait for the fog to lift, it would be a victory.

He refused to believe that zombies, which weren’t even made of anything sturdier than flesh and blood, could cause any significant trouble once they were exposed to the tanks’ sights.

The 2nd Regiment, which had been positioned at the rear of the camp, received the order. they had already fanned out, their hundred-plus tanks forming a massive, imposing line. As the order was given, the cannons of over a hundred tanks adjusted slightly. Plumes of light flashed from the barrels, clearly visible even in the dense fog.

Thunderous roars followed. For tanks capable of an -6 degree depression angle, it was entirely possible to use the main cannons to strike areas only a dozen meters in front of them. The sustained barrage from over a hundred tanks acted like a plow, tearing through the earth toward the source of the sounds.

Like a stick churning through muddy water, the rapidly fired shells exploded violently. The massive upward currents of air began to disperse the thick fog, revealing small clearings. The effect of this near-blind firing went beyond that; the rhythmic “clack” sounds that had been unified earlier suddenly broke apart and fell into chaos under the bombardment.

In this chaos, plumes of black smoke began to roll through the thick mist. It bled into the white fog, dyeing it black in a matter of moments.

Like a mirage, the billowing black mist grew larger and higher, eventually forming a wall a hundred meters tall. It loomed before the humans like a demon, blocked by the fog as if through a layer of black gauze, giving a strong sense of blurred presence—visible yet seemingly untouchable.

“What the hell is that?”

Countless men asked the same question, but no answer was forthcoming. Under the fog, it remained an unsolved mystery.

Hou Yingqiang knew that there must be Special Infected ahead, and this black mist was likely an offensive measure it released upon being attacked. This proved that his blind firing had been effective. As a commander, he had to seize every sliver of opportunity on the battlefield. While everyone else was confused, he grabbed the communicator and roared, “Continue the attack!”

The clock struck exactly nine. In the southern climate, this was often when the sun finally rose above the mountain ridges, shedding thousands of golden rays across the land.

Fog, being condensed water vapor, feared heat above all else. Once the sun came out and the atmosphere was heated, the rising temperature would disperse the vapor. And the speed of this dispersal was far beyond what people imagined.

The air in the southern regions was humid, and being March, the cold weather made it prone to fog. However, temperatures in the south also rose very quickly. Once the sun appeared, it usually took only a few minutes for the thick fog to vanish, restoring clarity to the land.

Amidst the booming cannon fire, the sunlight poured down, and the mist across the land began to clear. Visibility stretched further and further. Soon, the only thing remaining in the entire landscape was a massive patch of black mist a kilometer ahead, which seemed unaffected by the sun as it sat squarely on the main highway.

Due to the depth of the previous blind barrage, the entire highway was nearly ruined, pockmarked with craters.

As the white fog cleared and revealed this hundred-meter-tall cloud of black mist spanning one or two kilometers, most of the tank crews had no idea what it was. Only a very few knew what that black mist represented. To create a cloud of this size, at least four or more of that specific creature were required.

As high-ranking battlefield commanders, they didn’t just study tank specifications and troop maneuvers; they also had to study the types and abilities of zombies.

Thus, when the white fog cleared, Hou Yingqiang’s face turned pale. Among the zombie types he knew of, only one could release a black mist, and what he saw before him was identical to the descriptions in the files. This meant that he had—either through luck or misfortune—encountered a type of zombie that humanity had little contact with and possessed little data on. And there wasn’t just one.

Reacting instinctively, Hou Yingqiang, his face white, issued a decisive order: “Total division, aim at that black mist! Give them everything you’ve got!”

Turrets swiveled, and tank cannons aimed at the black mist. But only a few had managed to let out their roars when the black mist roiled. A hideously distorted, massive head emerged from within it. The head was covered in tentacles dripping with a slimy liquid that swayed as if moving with the wind.

The moment its massive body appeared, tentacles shot out like lightning. Using the buildings along the highway as leverage, it pounced toward the front line of tanks like a grotesque version of Spider-Man.

Chapter 344: Lifting the Veil

“Captain Octopus?”

To those who had never seen an Octopus Zombie, their first impression was usually the image of Captain Davy Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean. However, the second impression would immediately overturn the first, because this Octopus Zombie didn’t truly look like Davy Jones at all; it only shared a spiritual resemblance.

Was Captain Octopus over ten meters tall? Did Captain Octopus have tentacles that could freely extend dozens of meters?

Clearly, for the pirate captain, it was merely a matter of appearance and supernatural abilities. He couldn’t be like the Octopus Zombie, whose tentacles were as nimble as long whips, viciously lashing out at houses. Amidst shattering masonry, it used the suckers on the tips of its tentacles to latch on firmly. With a few contractions, it moved along the highway like Spider-Man shooting webs, traveling at lightning speed.

If you caught a sudden glimpse of it, you would think an octopus was swimming through the air on land.

The actual Octopus Zombie had a face similar to the pirate captain’s, with its entire head covered in small, shifting tentacles. Its lower body, however, had evolved over a dozen massive tentacles like those of a real octopus. Compared to a normal octopus, these tentacles had undergone a qualitative change. When relaxed, they could stretch out for dozens of meters; when hardened, they could instantly coil around a car. Using a combat method identical to a python’s, it could crush a vehicle into a twisted wreck of metal.

Could Captain Octopus spray ink like a real octopus?

The captain couldn’t, but the Octopus Zombie possessed this ability: it could release a massive cloud of black mist. One should not mistake this black mist for a simple defensive screen. When octopuses or squids are attacked by large fish, they release ink containing toxins that can paralyze the enemy or cause temporary blindness. The Octopus Zombie’s goal, however, was not to escape, but to use this black mist to kill its enemies.

A potent, lethal poison—a mutated virus—was mixed into the black mist. Anyone who breathed it in usually didn’t turn into a zombie; they simply died—a death that turned their entire body black.

From the moment he saw this massive Octopus Zombie appear, Hou Yingqiang realized that the small spark of hope he had felt for the First Company was shattered by reality. With the protection of the thick fog, these Octopus Zombies could move freely. The black mist they sprayed was enough to deal a fatal blow to the entire company.

Back when Zhou Yuanqiang was in Chengdu City, he had been chased through building floors by an Octopus Zombie. One could only imagine how terrifying it truly was.

As soon as this hideously ugly creature appeared, Hou Yingqiang knew they were in for a brutal fight today, and the odds were stacked against them. Although the information provided by the Intelligence Department was sparse, its combat rating was extremely high—even higher than that of a Giant Zombie.

As the first Octopus Zombie lunged out from the black mist, using its tentacles to swing between the buildings lining the highway, a second one followed close behind, until a fourth one—as predicted—emerged.

“Open fire! Open fire! Don’t let them get close!”

The lung-bursting roar echoed through the communicators, reaching the ears of every tank commander. That anxious tone tightened everyone’s nerves, and any previous sense of ease was thrown to the winds. Amidst heavy breathing, some commanders took the initiative to fire, while others ordered their gunners to attack.

However, the Octopus Zombies were too fast. Their rapidly extending tentacles carried their massive heads forward. In an instant, the lead creature appeared in front of the Second Tank Regiment. With a single swing—it was hard to believe a massive body over ten meters tall could be so agile—it used its tentacles to catapult itself dozens of meters into the air like a weightless object. Casting a massive shadow, it plummeted toward the tank formation.

The sight of hundreds of tanks opening fire was enough to make anyone’s blood boil. The thunderous roar of cannons, the deafening explosions, the torn earth, the rolling debris, the massive craters…

But as the first Octopus Zombie fell toward the tanks below, it momentarily reminded observers of the Sentinels from The Matrix that could swim freely through the air. Its cephalopod design shared a spiritual likeness with the Octopus Zombie. More importantly, they both possessed a maddening level of dexterity.

The Octopus Zombie used its incredible elasticity to explain to the humans the meaning of a fluid, relentless attack.

Mid-fall, one of its tentacles lashed out like a whip, spraying transparent liquid as it struck the turret of a tank with sheer ferocity.

Like a massive bell being struck with immense force, the Octopus Zombie’s blow caused the entire tank to emit a deafening boom. This wasn’t the sound of the engine, but the metallic clang of steel under heavy impact. It was like being hit by a shell that failed to penetrate armor.

Inside, the commander, gunner, and driver were nearly knocked unconscious by the combination of the boom and the vibration.

However, this was only the beginning.

In the blink of an eye, the Octopus Zombie slammed into the ground, kicking up a storm of dust. Its tentacles shot out like lightning, instantly coiling around a tank. With a frantic contraction, it squeezed the tank with all its might, trying to crush it through sheer constriction.

A zombie, after all, was not a human. It had no consciousness. Even as a Special Infected with super-evolved abilities, it lacked the intellect to realize what it was constricting. It acted purely on instinct, attempting to crush anything it caught.

As the pinnacle of armored power, the frontal armor of some heavy tanks could withstand ordinary anti-tank missiles. Their defensive capabilities reached terrifying levels. How could an Octopus Zombie easily crush one? No matter how great its strength, it was fundamentally impossible.

However, possessing immense physical power and utilizing its ten-meter height, the creature used its massive leverage to literally flip a sixty-ton Rhino Tank onto its side.

The second Octopus Zombie was not as lucky as the first. Hundreds of shells, aimed high and low, formed an inescapable net of fire. As the second zombie moved with lightning speed, its tentacles shot out, but before they could latch onto a building, a shell struck one of the flailing limbs. In a burst of fire, the entire tentacle was torn off.

Losing its fluid means of movement, its propelled torso slammed directly onto the highway. Against the rough road surface, the friction of the slide ground away layers of flesh from its hideous head. Several small tentacles growing near the point of impact were sheared off; surprisingly, they continued to squirm independently on the ground.

At the site of the friction-induced tears, crimson fluid gushed out like water, but it soon secreted a transparent, viscous substance to seal the wounds.

The third one fared slightly better, though the buildings beside it were demolished by shells. With nothing left to climb, it could only roll onto the ground. The most unfortunate was the fourth Octopus Zombie to appear. It must have had terrible luck, as over a dozen shells successfully hit the massive head emerging from the black mist. The violent explosions tore it apart instantly, turning it into a rain of flying flesh.

Once detached from the main body, the massive tentacles shriveled like sun-dried earthworms, turning black and thin as they lost all moisture.

Under the guidance of their autoloaders, the Rhino Tanks could fire up to eleven rounds per minute. In actual combat, they usually managed about seven or eight. But with a real fire rate of seven or eight rounds combined with over a hundred tanks firing, one could imagine the fate of the Octopus Zombie that had ground to a halt in a crater after sliding across the highway.

On the battlefield, opportunities vanish in an instant. For tank gunners and commanders, the ability to seize the moment is everything; the difference between a second earlier and a second later is often the difference between life and death.

Anything that could make a division commander tremble was certainly no pushover. Against this kind of zombie, you didn’t need to know what its abilities were; you just needed to send it to hell before it could act. That was the only way to survive.

Often, by the time you saw it demonstrate its powers, you were already a cold corpse.

Dozens of tank cannons thundered. Mud and smoke billowed into the air. Under this overwhelming destructive force, the second zombie’s powerful vitality offered no protection; it was blasted into smithereens. Before a tank shell, there was no such thing as a “fatal weakness”—everything was within the scope of destruction.

The first Octopus Zombie was now like the tripod machines from War of the Worlds, walking above the ant-like humans and cars. Each long, low roar or impact represented a flash of light that would evaporate a human.

At over ten meters tall, it truly stood out like a crane among chickens compared to the tanks.

“Use the machine guns! Don’t let it release the black mist, or we’re all dead!”

There was simply too little data on the Octopus Zombie. The Intelligence Department’s files didn’t specify how many times it could spray the mist, so Hou Yingqiang couldn’t be sure if it could do it again. Being right in the middle of the tank formation, if it released the mist, the area it covered would claim at least a hundred tanks as the next round of victims.

The coaxial machine guns roared. Commanders flipped open their hatches to man the heavy anti-aircraft machine guns, unleashing a frantic hail of bullets at the Octopus Zombie trapped amidst the tanks.

Bullets sparked small blossoms of blood on the creature’s smooth skin. A dense swarm of lead covered its massive head. Given the caliber of the heavy machine guns, nearly every hit blasted off one of the smaller tentacles. The relentless fire then “rubbed salt in the wound” by tunneling into the stumps, blasting out bloody holes larger than a fist.

A series of violent tremors racked its body; every hit made it flinch. In moments, it was riddled with holes like a hornet’s nest and collapsed like a dead dog.

In its death throes, it emitted weak, hollow “clanging” sounds. Its waving tentacles slowly came to a halt, finally slumping like limp mud. Of the two eyes hidden beneath the nest of disgusting small tentacles, one had been burst by a bullet, leaking gory fluid.

The third Octopus Zombie, right before it died, suddenly spat out a glob of thick black fog before being completely erased by a tank shell.

“No…”

Watching the rolling black mist, Hou Yingqiang felt his strength leave him. Without chemical defense equipment, no one caught in that mist—which functioned like a chemical weapon—could escape. They would die of paralysis.

The billowing black smoke swallowed the air, transforming into a literal monster.

In that moment, those who knew the danger of the mist closed their eyes in agony. Given the scale of that ink-black cloud, at least the entire forward element of the Second Tank Regiment—over a hundred tanks and three hundred tankers—would be lost in the Lijiang City campaign.

Just as many reached the brink of despair, a gust of wind blew in out of nowhere. The rolling black mist was swept directly in the opposite direction.

Shouts of excitement erupted. That miraculous gust of wind had saved the lives of over three hundred tankers. Many of them likely didn’t even realize they had already had one foot in the grave. If not for that wind…

On March 6th, the Southern Front Army captured Lijiang City.

Meanwhile, at the Intelligence Department of the Commercial Association, the battle between the four Octopus Zombies and the tanks had been faithfully recorded by five transport airships hovering in the sky. The footage was transmitted back to the Association, where it would be analyzed and added to the official archives.

With bodies larger than even Giant Zombies, the Octopus Zombies were the largest type of zombie humanity had faced to date.

In the meeting room, Zhou Yuanqiang looked at Huang Changnian, the foremost authority on crystals and zombies, and asked, “According to the data from the front, these four Octopus Zombies were hiding in the Li River. This proves they can operate in water. And as everyone saw, their flexibility and elasticity are remarkable. I just wonder what kind of biological structure allows them to do that.”

Huang Changnian put down the intelligence report, cleared his throat, and said, “When Giant Zombies first appeared, we assigned a team specifically to study their structural composition. Like Giant Zombies, the infected humans’ bodies undergo extreme mutations under the influence of the virus. Their genes mutate and multiply frantically, causing their bodies to grow to immense sizes.”

He thought for a moment before continuing, “Presumably, the Octopus Zombie’s body shares similarities with the Giant Zombie’s mutation. However, viral mutations are infinitely varied. Understanding how this specific form came to be will require long-term research.”

Xu Yuhai couldn’t wrap his head around one thing: “Since they are still a type of zombie, why were they able to stay submerged in the river for so long? Even the heavy bombing of Lijiang City didn’t lure them out. More strangely, they didn’t appear when the tank units crossed the Lijiang Bridge. Why is that?”

Zhou Yuanqiang looked at Xu Yuhai. “Did you discover something new?”

Xu Yuhai didn’t play coy. He had someone turn on the projector and explained as images played on the large screen. “After the incident, I noticed these discrepancies. At first, I thought they were lying in ambush in the river near the city. But after sending out numerous reconnaissance flights, I overturned that judgment. These four Octopus Zombies actually came down from upstream. They were influenced by the movement of the tank units and only then decided to leave the water and go ashore.”

His evidence was simple: upstream, reconnaissance planes had clearly captured images of several Octopus Zombies crawling along the riverbank.

To launch air-launched cruise missiles, even over a distance of only four or five hundred kilometers, a bomber was required. Upon receiving orders from the Intelligence Department, two Magic Bird bombers waiting on the runway taxied and roared into the sky.

The two Magic Bird bombers didn’t leave the airspace above the Commercial Association headquarters. After leveling out, they opened their bomb bays, and air-launched cruise missiles dropped out. Their boosters ignited, and the missiles streaked toward Lijiang City.

They didn’t just fire two; they launched them as if they cost nothing. Each Magic Bird fired six missiles, for a total of twelve. Only then did the bombers turn back to the Wildlands military airport. For the bombers, their job was only to launch; the rest was out of their hands.

The air-launched cruise missiles flew at low altitude for forty minutes before reaching the Li River. Skimming the water’s surface, one of them suddenly dived. There was no massive plume of water as one might expect. Instead, a section of the massive Li River over a hundred meters long hissed with blue electric arcs. The water danced with electricity for over ten seconds before returning to silence.

An Octopus Zombie, charred from the electric shock, floated to the surface, its body carried away by the current.

This area was more like a base for the creatures; a large number of these Special Infected had gathered here. The twelve air-launched cruise missiles were like twelve swords, turning this section of the Li River upside down. The power of the missiles, combined with their crystal warheads, generated millions of volts of electricity. In water, their effectiveness was even greater.

Long-range precision strikes once again demonstrated their overwhelming power.

The Octopus Zombies huddled here stood no chance against the coordinated attack of the twelve missiles. They became common casualties of the cruise missiles’ wrath. Twelve missiles were enough to clear the entire stretch of water. It was only after a few missiles failed to find targets that it was confirmed no more Octopus Zombies remained in the area.

The appearance of the Octopus Zombie served as a wake-up call to everyone. The zombies of the apocalypse, which often seemed like mere fodder, were still full of unknowns. Anyone who treated them with negligence would pay with their life. At the same time, it signaled to humanity that the different types of zombies were only just beginning to lift a corner of their mysterious veil.

No one knew what kind of Special Infected they would encounter in the upcoming reclamation wars, or what forms they might take.

Chapter 345: Purgatory, A Love Story

Overlapping mountain ranges. Forested slopes rising and falling, all shrouded in a pale, white mountain mist.

In years past, the chirping of a hundred birds, the cry of wild chickens, and the occasional grunt of wild boars wove together a tapestry of a mountain morning. But now, it was silent beneath the dawn. Birdsong had vanished for seven whole years. The early bird gets the worm, and the early worm gets eaten… Today, the insects remained, but the birds were nowhere to be seen.

All things were gradually recovering from the catastrophe of the apocalypse. Insects, the easiest to breed, were growing at an alarming rate.

Butterflies were visible everywhere in the forest, clinging to morning buds and gathering pollen. With the proliferation of insects, nature—once destroyed—was regaining its former vitality through their pollination. Without human destruction or industrial pollution, and with succulent insects to feed on, the joyful calls of birds had begun to reappear in the woods from time to time.

The Earth’s biological chain had pulled back from the brink at the final moment, ultimately steering back toward a normal course.

Nature was just that wondrous. From plants to insects, from insects to birds, and then to the animals that preyed upon them. A biological chain had formed, powered by the easily breeding insects. One link after another, the entire food chain that had been shattered by the apocalypse was finally brought back to life.

In the cheerful woods, a plump pheasant was pecking at ripened grass seeds at the foot of a tree. It looked around cautiously from time to time, then stretched its neck, lightning-fast, and pecked a seed into its beak. With its throat rolling, the seed was swallowed into its belly.

Its feathers, primarily bright red mixed with several other colors, fanned out in a dazzling, rainbow-hued beauty under the morning sun.

In a nearby patch of low-lying shrubs, a dark gun barrel slowly extended. The deep muzzle looked like a venomous snake flickering its tongue, ready to deliver a fatal blow to the enemy at any moment. Through the foliage, a young man of twenty-three or twenty-four was covered in severed leaves, blending perfectly with his surroundings.

The bushes remained nearly undisturbed, a testament to how long the young man had been there.

The forest was teeming with mosquitoes; they were the fastest to breed and the most numerous among the insects. Like bombers, they launched a frenzied assault on the young man, happily feasting on his fresh blood. Yet, no matter how much they sucked, the young man merely gritted his teeth, not moving an inch… He had stayed here a whole night.

If one were to lift his camouflage of green leaves, they would see shocking red welts covering nearly his entire body, some even festering with blood and fluid.

To possess a will stronger than that of snipers, without any special training, was truly incredible. Anyone who has experienced mosquito bites knows that itch that seeps into the bone. Many would rather suffer a deep gash than endure such bites without being allowed to scratch. It was a form of physical and mental torture.

What power had allowed him to lie in ambush here for an entire night? Was it for the pheasant not far away?

A loud “BANG” shattered the silence of the forest.

Smoke billowed from the bushes as iron shot, propelled by immense force at supersonic speeds, covered a wide area. It wove a great net, and in less than a breath, the beautiful pheasant—still enjoying its breakfast—gave a final scream. Struck by over a dozen pieces of iron shot, its blood instantly stained its feathers, presenting a macabre brilliance under the sunlight.

“I did it!”

With a shout full of joy, the young man grabbed his homemade shotgun. With the explosive power of a Bao, he burst from the bushes and charged toward the struggling pheasant. God knows how much suffering he had endured for this moment, all for this one bird…

A trace of a smile finally appeared on his tense face.

In the nearly primordial forest, the old paths were gone. The mountain trails trodden by ancestors were now covered in wild grass, and the tangled roots of plants had restored the paths to their primitive state. Moving through these woods required relying on memory and hacking through vines with a knife to force a path.

But did he even have a knife?

According to the rules of the Stronghold, except for the Stronghold Leader and his henchmen who could possess firearms and iron tools, no one else was allowed to own iron. The shotgun in his hand had been issued by one of the Leader’s lackeys, and it contained only enough ammunition for a single shot.

At the thought of the shotgun, the young man’s expression turned grim. He would not forget his purpose for coming out this time…

“You lowlife. Heh, don’t you know that everything here belongs to the Leader? You dare to secretly court the Leader’s food? Let me tell you, don’t even dream about it. Love doesn’t exist in this world. She’s just the Leader’s little lamb; she’ll end up as a human meat hotpot eventually.”

He still remembered the hollow, despairing look in Nana’s eyes when she was taken away. She wasn’t the first “two-legged sheep,” and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Spring has come, and flowers are blooming. I keep hearing the pheasants calling from five kilometers away… If you can bring one back, perhaps the Leader will enjoy the succulent chicken meat and consider changing his taste for a while. After all, he’s grown tired of the banquet of this ‘mutton’.”

Because of those words, he had left the Stronghold with a shotgun that could only fire once. Yes, he had only one chance—one chance to kill the pheasant. Only by bringing it back could he trade for a brief extension of Nana’s life. If he missed, her fate would be to become a “two-legged sheep,” hung up in the Stronghold, rubbed with spices, dried, and eaten bit by bit, day by day.

A world of madness and twisted humanity played out in this refugee-formed Stronghold. It was ruled like a slave state, where the thousands living there were nothing more than laboring machines. Human rights, humanity, and reason had collapsed here, turning it into a revolting purgatory on earth.

If he could, he wouldn’t want to think about anything in the Stronghold for even a second.

He could have escaped. He had thought about it, sitting in hesitation for half the night, but in the end, he didn’t run. Maybe in Nana’s despairing eyes, she also believed I would run away? he thought mockingly. Using a branch he had broken off to clear the way, he headed toward the Stronghold that was an earthly purgatory.

After crossing six or seven mountain ridges, he didn’t encounter any of the zombies unique to the apocalypse and smoothly reached the mountains near the Stronghold.

Standing on a rock and looking down, he saw hundreds of people in rags working in several valleys, beginning the year’s spring plowing. Guarding them were dozens of burly men armed with guns, mountain knives, and clubs. They smoked and burst into laughter, occasionally rushing forward to kick and punch anyone they saw slacking off.

Sometimes, when their lust hit, they would pull a few women from the workers and satisfy their desires right there in the fields.

He was already numb to all of this. Everyone living here was no different from the walking dead. Sometimes he wondered: since they were just like the corpses, why stay alive? Wouldn’t death be a release? But whenever he wanted to commit suicide, he could never bring himself to do it. Was it lingering attachment? Perhaps… a lingering attachment to the luster of sunlight through leaves? Or perhaps the fragrance of wildflowers?

The dozens of thugs were all surprised to see An Zhengning carrying a pheasant. Their throats bobbed at the sight of the bird, which was fat enough to be a banquet.

However, they didn’t dare to snatch it. They knew who this pheasant was for; there was no way it would be their turn. Perhaps they would only get a few pieces of the air-dried human meat in the Stronghold? At first, the thought of eating human meat would make anyone nauseous, but when you haven’t eaten meat for years, any nausea is redundant. Once you taste its deliciousness, you are captured by it. Like a demon, you lose all conscience of being human…

Things went smoothly. The “dog-foot” henchman who took the pheasant actually had Nana released.

Perhaps in his mind, he was just letting her live a few more days. If An Zhengning couldn’t produce another pheasant or other prey in a few days, Nana would still become food for these demons. He didn’t doubt for a second that any of them had a conscience left.

The moment she saw An Zhengning, Li Nana’s numb eyes finally showed a spark of reaction. She said blankly, “You shouldn’t have come back.”

An Zhengning smiled. “But I did come back.” Li Nana’s eyes showed disappointment, not joy. She said, “Why are you so stubborn? You know I… I don’t know how many times I’ve been defiled by them. I’m not worthy of you, don’t you know that?”

“Is that why you deliberately provoked those beasts’ anger? To create a chance for me to escape?”

An Zhengning became agitated and roared, “Why bother? You promised me we would live well together. You’ve been questioning if there’s still love and humanity in this world. I just want to tell you that my love for you will never change, no matter what. I want you to know the world isn’t just full of darkness like you imagine; there is also light.”

Li Nana muttered to herself, “Light? But all I see is endless darkness. For these humiliating days, do you still want to let them ride me to vent their lust?” She suddenly began beating her stomach frantically, screaming, “Here! In here! There’s a demon’s seed, don’t you know? Don’t you know?!”

An Zhengning stared blankly at the hysterical Li Nana. He suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace, saying nothing, though a tear escaped his eye.

Night fell quietly, no different from thousands of other nights.

People, exhausted from a day’s labor, were driven back to their cage-like dwellings and locked in. Perhaps the only silver lining was that after a large harvest of grain, the leadership understood they couldn’t starve their labor force, so they were allowed to eat their fill without worrying about hunger.

An Zhengning only ate a little. When no one was looking, he carefully wrapped the rest in a hidden large leaf.

In the unremarkable dead of night, nearly everyone was asleep. Even the guards, having seen no issues for years, had lost their vigilance and were sleeping on wooden planks. The numbed people, after a day of high-intensity labor, lacked even the strength to move; they slept harder than pigs.

The entire Stronghold fell into a deathly silence.

A small, sharp stone hidden in his dwelling was used to cut through a vine. The bamboo-woven hut, prepared in advance, was sliced open. Now, with a gentle push, it revealed a hole just large enough for a person to crawl out. An Zhengning carefully restored the opening before creeping toward a nearby dwelling.

Li Nana felt a hand touch her and was overcome with extreme terror. Her traumatized heart was about to let out a scream, but her mouth was quickly covered, and a familiar voice reached her: “Nana, it’s me, Zhengning!”

The sound that was about to break from her throat was suppressed. Li Nana said in disbelief, “Zhengning, you… you… what are you doing?”

An Zhengning whispered, “We’re escaping.”

Li Nana was shocked, her whole body trembling. “No, it’s impossible. We can’t escape their clutches. And there are zombies everywhere outside; we’ll lose our lives.”

An Zhengning said urgently, “I scouted the path yesterday. Trust me, we can make it. Besides, I’d rather be killed by zombies than continue living in humiliation. Don’t you want to come with me?”

“Of course I do, but…”

An Zhengning pulled her hand. Looking around and seeing everything was still quiet, he didn’t worry too much and led her through the cut bamboo opening.

“Don’t make a sound. Once we clear this bamboo wall, it’s the endless wilderness. They won’t come out looking for us in the dark. I found a cave; we’ll hide there until dawn and then run. Even if they chase us at daybreak, I’m confident I can get away.”

Everything went as planned, smoothly. Years without any runaways had stripped the guards of all vigilance. Moreover, it was pitch black outside, a cold night in the vast forest. They didn’t believe anyone would be suicidal enough to try and escape on such a freezing night.

From the moment they left the bamboo wall that separated them from the outside world, An Zhengning felt himself trembling. This meant he was free. He no longer had to endure the lash of the bamboo whip. More importantly, he had escaped with the person he loved most.

Relying on the hunting opportunity he’d had the day before, he led Li Nana through the darkness, fumbling forward bit by bit.

In their rags, they shivered constantly in the cold night wind. Added to that was the thick mist on the plants along the way, which soaked their bodies in moments. When the cold wind blew, it was bone-chilling. In the south, March was the coldest time, and the warmth wouldn’t arrive until May.

An Zhengning had an amazing memory. Relying on it, he managed to find the dry cave he had discovered during the day.

Inside the cave, there wasn’t a single ray of light—absolute darkness. The cold initially drove them to huddle together, and eventually, they could only embrace each other for warmth. For a full-blooded young man like An Zhengning, the temptation was fatal, and Li Nana’s love for him led the two of them to entwine frantically in that bone-chilling night.

The morning mist was thick and very cold.

“Hurry up! The tracks are here! They couldn’t have gone far in the dark; they must be hiding. Chase them! Find them, and I’ll slice those two into pieces and turn them into jerky!”

A roar came from not far down the mountain side. An escape after years—and discovered so early in the morning—how could it not make someone fly into a rage? To maintain the stability of the Stronghold’s rule, a dozen thugs were sent out armed with pistols, shotguns, and iron clubs, following the faint remaining tracks.

Woken by the sound of the pursuers, An Zhengning hurriedly shook the curled-up, sleeping Li Nana. He pulled her out of the cave and plunged into the distant forest.

Crossing a few more mountain ridges would lead to a highway. There would be wandering zombies there. An Zhengning believed these cowardly thugs wouldn’t dare risk being found by zombies to continue the pursuit. The two of them just needed to use the zombies to scare them off, then find a way to evade the zombies themselves to reach safety.

As for where they would go after escaping, An Zhengning hadn’t thought about it. Surely, in this vast world, there were other places where survivors lived?

The forest was dense. As soon as they left the cave and pushed through the shrubs, the swaying plants could not escape the eyes of their pursuers. At first, they were fine, protected by the mountain mist which obscured vision. But as they pulled ahead and the mist began to fade, a shout of “There they are!” exposed their tracks.

The dozen burly men acted as if they had taken stimulants. The psychological thrill of hunting weak prey released their perverted nature; they put all their strength into the chase.

An Zhengning and Li Nana desperately pushed aside the plants in front of them, ignoring the thorns. An Zhengning was doing better, but the frail Li Nana was gasping for air and nearly unable to move after crossing just one hilltop.

“Zhengning… you… you… go on your own. I… I can’t run anymore.”

“No! I will never leave you behind! Grit your teeth; the highway isn’t far. Trust me, we will make it!” The stubborn An Zhengning didn’t wait for her to argue. He grabbed her hand and continued to charge forward.

A gunshot “BANG” rang out as a shotgun released a thick cloud of smoke. The iron shot didn’t have a very long range and was more for intimidation.

The thugs panting at the foot of the hill burst into loud laughter as they watched the two scurry like mice on the mountainside. With their speed, they could close the distance and catch them within half an hour. Then, this game of cat and mouse would be over.

The lead thug, known as the “dog-foot,” had a fierce smile on his bearded face. He waved his hand and roared, “Chase them! Don’t let them get away!” He clamped a dagger between his teeth and dived headfirst into the thick foliage.

Chapter 346: Hotpot

“Ha… ha… Keep running. Why did you stop? I’m… I’m exhausted!”

Gasps for air punctuated the dog-foot’s words as he glared at An Zhengning and Li Nana, who had stopped not far away. With a sinister grin, he sneered, “Did you think we wouldn’t dare chase you onto this highway just because there might be zombies? Let me tell you, we scouted this area long ago. There isn’t even a stray cat or dog left. Just give up and accept your fate as preserved meat.”

The asphalt highway snaking through the heavy mountain ranges was tinged with a sickly green, covered in a layer of moss that showed no signs of human travel.

Zombies that used to wander the roads occasionally were now nowhere to be seen. With the passage of time, they had drifted off to parts unknown. An Zhengning and Li Nana were panting like oxen, leaning against a tree by the roadside for support. Their legs felt as though they were filled with lead, refusing to move another inch.

“Am I really going to die here?”

Zhengning gazed down the mountain highway. It seemed endless, fading into the distance where it blurred and reappeared behind bends in the terrain.

If there was anything more despairing than their current situation, it was the moment right before death. But wasn’t this precisely that despair? An Zhengning, a man of fierce temperament, pulled a sharp stone shard from his shirt. Gripping it tightly, he looked at Li Nana and said, “Nana, I know you don’t want to die, but this is better than falling into their hands.”

Tears shimmered in Li Nana’s eyes. She nodded silently, staring at the sharp stone in Zhengning’s hand before closing her eyes.

A cold morning wind blew beneath a somber sky that threatened drizzle. Carried on the gusts of wind was the faint, muffled sound of a car engine. Trapped in his frantic state, the thought of a car only flashed briefly through Zhengning’s mind before his eyes snapped wide open. A sudden, desperate urge to survive surged through him. He threw the stone shard aside, grabbed Nana, and used every last drop of energy in his body to sprint down the highway like a madman.

Yes, a car. The sound of an engine… To them, it was the most beautiful music in the world.

The dog-feet had not expected the pair to bolt again just as they were preparing to enjoy a show of despair. Infuriated by the sudden flight, the leader didn’t hesitate, roaring, “The two runts are trying to run again! After them! Catch them! Kill them!”

Another chase began on the highway.

The sound of the engine grew clearer. To An Zhengning, it was the sound of hope; to the dog-feet, it was the sound of confusion and surprise.

Soon, two camouflage-painted armored vehicles appeared ahead, speeding down the road. They were wide and roughly the length of a small bus. Atop each vehicle was a mounted heavy machine gun, manned by a soldier who kept the barrel trained on the road ahead.

In an instant, the two armored troop carriers spotted the chase. With a burst of speed, they pulled up in front of Zhengning and Nana. Tires screeched as they came to a halt, and the machine gunners on top immediately aimed their weapons at the two groups, who now stood frozen in place.

The doors of the armored troop carriers swung open, and twenty fully armed soldiers leapt out from each vehicle. Forty soldiers in total surrounded everyone present.

At this point, there was no need to shout for anyone to freeze. Unless they were idiots, everyone knew that against this kind of firepower, resistance meant certain death.

Chen Xiaosi’s combat boots crunched onto the moss-covered asphalt. Carrying a submachine gun, he looked much like any other soldier, save for the stripes on his shoulders. As the leader of a reconnaissance small team, his rank wasn’t particularly high, but his excellent commanding and scouting abilities had earned him the position.

Since the fall of Lijiang City, the mountainous terrain of the south had forced the tank division to split into four routes, and the Southern Front had likewise divided into four advancing armies.

Because of the influence of the Octopus Zombies, relying solely on reconnaissance airships meant many threats could be overlooked. Therefore, armored reconnaissance small teams were sent ahead to lead the way and scout for any potential crises. In the complex terrain of the south, they occasionally encountered isolated settlements hidden deep in the mountains.

It was because of these discoveries that the command center had increased the number of reconnaissance units, searching every highway for settlements tucked away in the woods.

This was how Chen Xiaosi and his reconnaissance small team came to be in these desolate, rugged mountains.

Technically, the reconnaissance small team was more than just scouts; it was a forty-man combat configuration. Including the two armored vehicle machine gunners, four drivers, and two team leaders, there were forty-eight men in total—enough to be called an elite combat platoon.

“You lot, what’s going on here?”

Chen Xiaosi had already sized up the situation. It looked like the typical old-fashioned drama—either someone being forced into a dark life or a couple eloping. The problem was, in this post-apocalyptic world filled with danger, who would be eloping? Moreover, the dozen or so burly men standing there looked like primitives, making one wonder if they had regressed into savages.

That said, the couple they were chasing looked even more like savages than the burly men. They were dressed in rags made of leaves; “clothed in tatters” was an understatement. The amount of skin showing even made Chen Xiaosi feel embarrassed to look.

An Zhengning felt as if he had found his salvation. These were clearly standardized armored vehicles and a group of soldiers—surely the nation’s military. Without hesitation, he pulled Li Nana forward and cried out, “Save us!”

To those with a guilty conscience, the national army always radiated an aura of righteousness. The dog-feet felt a chill run down their spines. Given the things they had done, their crimes were unforgivable by any standard of heaven or man. If these soldiers found out, wouldn’t they be skinned alive?

“Comrades of the PLA, they killed someone at our Stronghold and kidnapped another man’s wife! You have to give us justice!”

An Zhengning trembled with rage. Pointing at the villainous dog-feet who were trying to frame them first, he shouted, “You’re lying! You monsters…”

The dog-foot leader, the utterly depraved Zhang Junping, couldn’t let them keep talking. He cut them off, shouting, “What do you mean, lying?” He put on a performance of grief. “My poor brother was murdered by this pair of adulterers. If we hadn’t noticed early and chased them out…”

Chen Xiaosi narrowed his eyes. He had already formed his own judgment. Internally, he scoffed, Keep spinning your yarn, keep spinning. He glanced at the weapons held by the dozen men and jerked his head. The surrounding soldiers charged forward like fierce beasts, disarming the men instantly.

“Whether things are as you say, we’ll know once we take a look.”

Chen Xiaosi’s words felt like a death sentence to the dozen men. Every one of them turned pale. Resist? The other side had nearly fifty men with superior weaponry. One look at the heavy machine gun on the armored vehicle told them who would be the unlucky ones. With their knives, iron bars, and useless scrap-metal shotguns? They were fine for bullying civilians, but against these soldiers, they wouldn’t even know how they died.

The dejected dozen lost their spirit. Led by An Zhengning and Nana, they began the march toward the Stronghold.

Along the way, as An Zhengning explained their story, every soldier who heard it gripped his weapon tighter. Cannibalism wasn’t unheard of; it had been common during the second and third years of the apocalypse when food was scarce and people turned into monsters to survive. In those cases, it was often a result of human depravity fueled by desperation.

But this small Stronghold supposedly had enough food for everyone to be well-fed. Their lives should have been comfortable. For someone to discard their humanity and raise a butcher’s knife against young girls simply because they hadn’t tasted meat in a long time—that was intolerable.

The Stronghold was only a few ridges away from the highway. Once they crossed them, they indeed saw burly men whipping people at work. Like overseers, they rained down blows at the slightest dissatisfaction. Even more infuriating was the sight of a woman nearby, treated like a ragdoll, forced to endure the physical abuse of two men while completely naked.

Chen Xiaosi’s eyes constricted. He said coldly, “Kill them all.”

Against these beasts, Chen Xiaosi wasn’t worried about military discipline. Even from a hilltop four or five hundred meters away, rifles equipped with scopes could easily hit targets at six or seven hundred meters. Upon hearing Chen Xiaosi’s order, the thirty soldiers of the reconnaissance small team raised their rifles and fired angry bullets in precision firing bursts.

The triumphant expressions of the dozen overseers, and the two men on top of the woman, froze instantly as the crisp sound of gunfire echoed through the air.

The Stronghold’s only real firepower consisted of a dozen shotguns and a few pistols; the rest were just knives. Though they had about a hundred armed men, how could their weapons and lack of training stand against thirty fully armed soldiers?

Facing the dark muzzles of the rifles, a few who tried to fight back with shotguns were gunned down on the spot. The rest could only obediently squat down with their hands over their heads.

The Stronghold, built with massive amounts of timber and bamboo, was essentially a fortified hill housing nearly a thousand people. The ruler of the Stronghold, the Stronghold Leader named Zhu Tianhao, lived at the very peak in a large bamboo-walled courtyard on a patch of level ground.

Startled by the gunfire, Zhu Tianhao bolted out of bed. He grabbed two pistols from his bedside and rushed out of the room, demanding, “What’s going on?”

His henchmen were all sluggish. They had spent the early morning chasing the escapees and were severely sleep-deprived. They had been dozing off when the shots rang out, and none of them knew what was happening. However, they knew one thing for sure: that wasn’t the sound of shotguns.

Zhu Tianhao couldn’t worry about the details. “Men! Assemble! Assemble!”

Soon, the sixty or seventy men who lived nearby specifically to protect him had finished gathering. Some carried shotguns, some held spears, and others gripped large cleavers. They looked exactly like bandits from the late Qing Dynasty—perhaps even more pathetic.

But before the assembled squad could set out, shadows of running men appeared outside. In moments, the entire leader’s courtyard was surrounded.

Through the gaps in the bamboo fence, Zhu Tianhao could see muzzles pointing at his bewildered men. When he saw the camouflage uniforms, his legs nearly gave way. His vision blurred, and he almost collapsed. His face, usually oily and shiny, turned the color of ash.

Losing his composure, Zhu Tianhao stared with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Didn’t they say the whole world was over? Why are there PLA soldiers?”

Taking these people down required zero effort. If they didn’t resist, they might not be shot on the spot; if they did? With this much firepower, they could be slaughtered in a minute. Against body armor and steel helmets, their shotguns and cleavers were useless.

This battle… if it could even be called that, offered no challenge at all.

Walking into the courtyard, one could see rows of lines made from thin vines, each fitted with small barbs. There was no sun today; the sky was somber, but one could still see rows of thinly sliced meat hanging from the lines.

Having been treated with wild forest spices and air-dried, the slices emitted a scent similar to preserved meat.

Under normal circumstances, Chen Xiaosi’s mouth might have watered. But seeing these slices now, he felt his stomach churn, and he barely suppressed the urge to vomit. The meat was sliced incredibly thin, almost translucent. But once you knew what it was, it looked like the work of a demon, making you want to get as far away as possible.

Not far from the hanging meat was a large stone next to a small pool made of rocks, fed by a constant trickle from a mountain spring. The stains and the color of dried blood everywhere told the story of what happened here. This was where the girls were slaughtered.

With Zhu Tianhao’s tastes, he obviously wouldn’t settle for the elderly or men.

Women were fine for pleasure, but to him, they were also for eating. Other men were tough and leathery—good for tilling the soil, but their meat certainly wouldn’t taste as tender as that of the women.

Eating human flesh sounds terrifying, and Zhu Tianhao had only started a year ago. The reason was simple: his men had caught a large, fat rat, and it gave him a taste for meat. But in the apocalypse, meat was a rare commodity. How could he have it every few days?

Under his absolute rule and the temptation of meat, it just so happened that a woman resisted him. He killed her with a knife. Looking at the dead woman, he suddenly felt she looked like a tender stewed lamb. With a burst of evil courage, he actually stewed her.

From his initial disgust to eventually loving the flavor, then to researching various cooking methods, Zhu Tianhao had become a demon.

The explanation sounded detached, but Chen Xiaosi knew the cruelty within. He looked at Zhu Tianhao, whose eyes still flashed with a feral light. Even though he was tied up, he snarled like a madman, baring his white teeth and roaring loudly.

The remains of the women he and his men had consumed over the year were found behind the courtyard. It was a literal pile of white bones, hacked apart so that not a single piece remained connected. It was easy to imagine them being carved up bit by bit, then finely sliced with sharp knives into those thin strips. Marinated in forest spices and hung to dry, the meat could be preserved for a long time.

No one who survived the apocalypse was a saint.

Chen Xiaosi had been a fierce man in his younger days; he had killed zombies and he had killed men. Even when he was so hungry he had no strength left, he had never thought of eating human flesh to survive. But the man before him did it while he had plenty of food, treating it as a delicacy. This was something that could not be tolerated.

“You really like eating human meat, don’t you?”

Chen Xiaosi’s cold, mocking laugh made even the degenerate Zhu Tianhao shiver. Fear gripped him, which he tried to mask with more roaring. “So what if I like it? You people who have never tried it will never understand the taste. Tsk, tsk… that flavor… if you ever tasted it, the demon in your heart would be even more insane than mine!”

Zhu Tianhao was forcibly dragged to the edge of the stone pool. Soldiers set up a large pot nearby and immediately started a fire.

Before long, the water in the pot began to boil. Watching the bubbling water, Zhu Tianhao’s face turned deathly pale. When he was eating others, he felt only excitement and not a shred of fear. But when faced with his own death, true terror arrived. The more depraved a person was, the more they feared death in their heart.

Death was terrifying, and Zhu Tianhao had expected it would come one day, but a quick death wasn’t what he was facing.

The formerly numb residents of the Stronghold had all gathered in the courtyard, packing it so tightly that not a drop of water could leak through. Their eyes were no longer vacant; they burned with enough rage to kill, looking as if they wanted to devour his remains. Finally realizing what was happening, Zhu Tianhao became hysterical. “You can’t do this! You can’t do this!”

Chen Xiaosi gave a slight, thin smile. “If you can eat others, why can’t others eat you?”

He turned to the crowd. “I’m giving you all a chance now. Everyone can have a taste of hotpot. Carve a piece of meat from his body and dip it into the pot until it’s cooked. Remember, start with the limbs. Don’t let him die too quickly. He needs to keep his eyes open to watch his own flesh tumbling in the pot.”

Chen Xiaosi didn’t know if these tormented people would actually eat the meat, but he was certain of one thing: nothing of Zhu Tianhao’s bones would be left.

Chapter 347: Forward Airfield

The apocalypse was a place filled with an aura of dark fantasy. Here, one could find all sorts of zombie mutations beyond imagination, and settlements so shocking they made one doubt if they had stepped into a primitive society of cannibals. Often, the smaller the settlement, the more it played host to the ugliest sides of humanity.

Zhu Tianhao was merely a small microcosm. As they pushed southward, among the many settlements they encountered, there was a small portion of people who were utterly devoid of conscience. Their actions reached a level of depravity that was truly appalling; it was hard to believe that such horrific, perverted things could happen among people who had once lived under civilization.

When the summarized reports reached Zhou Yuanqiang’s hands, complete with photographic evidence and written descriptions, he remained silent for a long time.

As a modern man who had received a proper education, anyone with even a shred of humanity would find it impossible to commit such acts. Moreover, the people in the end times had come from a civilized world. They were educated, and some were even top-tier students. Was the apocalypse truly a giant vat of dye that could stain a person’s humanity black?

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, within the territories he ruled, such things had only been heard of in the earliest days of the Wildlands settlement. With a massive supply of grain, when had such things ever happened again?

By mid-March, the Southern Front Army had pushed over 1,000 kilometers to the south, reaching two coastal provinces and reclaiming over twenty cities of various sizes. Vast quantities of essential resources were being ferried back to the Commercial Association headquarters day and night by transport airships. Many survivors from scattered settlements boarded these airships and were sent to the rear.

Meanwhile, the Eastern Front Army—which was even better prepared than the Southern Front Army—officially joined the reclamation effort. They would cross provinces that were now mostly cleared of zombies and push through two provinces to the east, eventually reaching the coast. Their goal was to reclaim the cities below Shanghai and advance toward City S, where they would finally rendezvous with the Southern Front Army.

If the plan was executed successfully, the entire southern half of the continent would fall into the hands of the Commercial Association, and their population would exceed ten million.

The Eastern Front Army’s advance would likely face no resistance for at least a week. As for the Southern Front Army, after officially splitting their forces to enter the two coastal provinces, they did not rush their advance. Instead, after clearing out the massive numbers of zombies in the vicinity, they located a vast plain to serve as a frontline camp and began constructing simple defensive fortifications.

Gigantic transport airships flew from the distant Qingyuan City, over 1,000 kilometers away, transporting massive amounts of cement to begin building a large-scale airfield.

Construction machinery brought in by the airships worked day and night, leveling the vast area. Layers of crushed stone were laid down and compacted by rollers before a thick layer of concrete was poured over them. In just a few short days, a large temporary airfield capable of accommodating a thousand fighter jets was completed.

As a temporary airfield, it wasn’t enough to simply lay down runways and parking aprons. For a fighter jet, a flight of 1,000 kilometers was right at the edge of its combat radius. Without a massive supply of fuel, ammunition, and maintenance support, the whole endeavor would be meaningless.

As the saying goes, “before the troops move, the supplies must go first.” Without sufficient logistical support, this temporary airfield could not yet be put into service.

From the moment construction began, the transport airship units never stopped. One after another, the airships worked day and night, bringing cement, massive fuel tanks, ammunition supplies, maintenance tools, countless spare parts, and many skilled ground crew members to the airfield.

Construction had started in mid-March, and it wasn’t until early April that the entire temporary airfield was finally considered complete.

A sky-blotting swarm of fighter jets took off from the Wildlands Air Force Base. After a flight of over 1,000 kilometers lasting about an hour, they finally arrived at this temporary airfield. This site would serve as the forward airfield for the Southern Front Army’s push, taking charge of the entire combat operation for the two provinces.

The reconnaissance airships, which usually served as the vanguard, were no longer appearing in the sky. The nimble UAVs had also vanished along with their “motherships.” Not even a single roaring fighter jet could be seen. The sky was left with nothing but drifting white clouds.

On a small mountain peak, several elite scouts were wearing camouflage that allowed them to blend perfectly with the forest. They lay prone on a moss-covered rock, holding binoculars to observe a large cluster of low buildings in the distance. Through the lenses, one could see the area was surrounded by barbed wire fences, resembling a giant cage holding tens of thousands of zombies.

This massive horde of zombies wandered aimlessly, occasionally bumping into the wire fences or walls before turning away.

The weather in the south was sub-tropical, staying hot for most of the year. While the north was buried under howling snow, the sun still shone brightly here. Back then, sexy young women would run through the streets, and one could occasionally encounter a fiery girl wearing a mini-skirt and a tube top. For the men on the streets, it had been a sight to enjoy.

Many street photographers, like cats smelling fish, would strike with lightning speed to record those seductive moments, slap on an “original content” watermark, and post them to certain websites…

Unfortunately, those grand sights that made men linger on the streets were gone forever. No matter how sexy or glamorous someone once was, how fiery their figure, or how alluring their stockings, they were now nothing more than disgusting zombies. Everything they once wore had long since withered away under years of wind, sun, and rain.

Did anyone really expect a thin pair of stockings to survive seven years without decomposing?

Modern zombies no longer looked like the rotting corpses of the past. Even a god couldn’t withstand constant exposure to the elements, let alone non-functional rotting flesh. Like meat charred in an oven, the necrotic flesh had shriveled under the sun into thin layers, clinging tightly to the zombies’ bones. From a distance, they looked no different from skeletons, save for their oversized heads which still retained layers of leathery flesh.

With the rot gone, the tendons attached to the bones gradually lost their function, causing ordinary zombies to move even more slowly.

However, despite this, a zombie was still a zombie. As long as they didn’t fall, they still posed a significant threat to humanity. A zombie wasn’t made of clay; they wouldn’t just crack and turn into dust after being soaked in water and baked in the sun.

“Squad leader, shouldn’t scouting important places like this be the job of reconnaissance airships or satellites? Why were we sent out?”

On the peak, after finishing their survey and recording the locations of important facilities, as well as estimating the number of zombies, Special Infected, and military spirits, the man addressed as Squad Leader, Xu Jinping, lowered his binoculars and ducked down, hiding behind the giant rock.

“Why were we sent out? The military base is right ahead. Do you think bringing in a reconnaissance airship would be anything other than beating the grass to scare the snake?”

Xu Jinping’s answer didn’t quite convince his subordinates. One of them said, “What do you mean, ‘scaring the snake’? The place is crawling with zombies. We should just let the Air Force carpet bomb it, then have the tank units charge through to end the fight cleanly. Isn’t that how we won against the cities before?”

“You think it’s really that easy?”

Xu Jinping chuckled. To be honest, he wasn’t very satisfied with the new scouts assigned to him. They were former soldiers from the Lanxi Alliance’s old army, and their training time had been short. Their understanding of zombies was limited to a low level. They likely hadn’t even seen the data on military spirits yet; otherwise, they wouldn’t be saying such things. He asked, “Do you know why the Commercial Association spent so much to build a forward airfield?”

Seeing the men shake their heads, Xu Jinping said, “It’s simple: to deal with the Southern Military Region.”

At the thought of thousands of fighter jets, several men gasped. If such a massive aerial force was being mobilized, how could the enemy be ordinary zombies? They just couldn’t understand why it required such an immense expenditure of manpower and resources to deal with the Southern Military Region.

Before they could ask their next question, they suddenly heard a roar. A J-11 sped down the runway of the military base, took to the sky, and vanished in moments.

This sight made Xu Jinping’s subordinates’ eyes nearly pop out of their heads; they couldn’t believe it was real. “There are still people in the military base?” A massive question mark appeared in their minds. How could anyone be living among tens of thousands of zombies?

“That is a military spirit—a zombie that possesses its past life’s abilities.”

On April 6th, The Chairman super aerial aircraft carrier battle group appeared above the forward airfield, hovering in the sky with a majestic, world-dominating presence. Like a fortress of war, it was awe-inspiring; the shadow it cast almost completely covered the entire airfield. Six military airships flitted around it in six directions like loyal guards protecting their king.

The supercarrier had only been shown to the public during its completion ceremony. A few days later, it underwent flight testing and then completely vanished from the sight of ordinary people. No one knew where the massive vessel had gone. After nearly half a month of flight tests, it had returned to the half-finished spaceport to be outfitted with various fighter jets, missile systems, and more.

The outfitting process had taken a long time—a month longer than expected—and it wasn’t until after the New Year that it was fully completed.

In terms of firepower, calling it a mobile war fortress was no exaggeration. It was like a hedgehog, bristling with intimidating long, medium, and short-range missile systems. Anti-aircraft cannon barrels protruded from it as thick as hair. On its two decks, interceptors, fighters, bombers, attack helicopters, and even two AWACS planes crowded the space.

A supercarrier carrying over eight hundred aircraft of various types was even more terrifying than a large airfield.

Originally, this forward airfield wasn’t strictly necessary. With the super aerial aircraft carrier and its appalling carrying capacity, it was enough to deliver a devastating blow to any enemy. But to ensure absolute victory in the campaign against the Southern Military Region, Zhou Yuanqiang ultimately ordered the construction of the forward airfield to add even more aircraft.

The entire Southern Military Region possessed nearly a thousand fighter jets. Although only a tenth of them might actually be flyable, the supercarrier was enough to handle them.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t want any excessive losses. Even a single jet represented the lifeblood of the Commercial Association. Military spirits were terrifying; that J-11 he had encountered here once before hadn’t given him a single chance, nearly sending the military airship he was piloting straight to hell.

The Northern General’s tactics against military bases had been studied by the Commercial Association’s agents, allowing them to learn a great deal. For instance, sending ground reconnaissance teams instead of aerial airships was done specifically to avoid alerting the enemy. Against a Southern Military Region that possessed a massive army and air force, alerting them would lead to a brutal, pyrrhic war.

For Zhou Yuanqiang, that was absolutely unacceptable. It wasn’t worth paying such a heavy price for these zombies.

If one were to ask when the greatest test for the Commercial Association would be, Zhou Yuanqiang would say without hesitation: right now. The Southern Military Region was like a tiger blocking the path. With a massive number of soldiers and several military bases each containing tens of thousands of souls, the number of military spirits that had evolved from such a concentration was naturally high.

The Commercial Association had always dealt with zombies and rarely fought against humans; even when they did, they mostly used deterrence to force a surrender.

But now, they had to go toe-to-toe with military spirits using real steel and lead. Military spirits were zombies that could use weapons, even fly fighter jets and launch attacks. Once the military spirits of the entire region were alerted, their roaring jets would engage the Association’s Air Force in a true trial by fire.

Thanks to the Northern General’s experiences, the Department of Military Affairs wasn’t entirely without knowledge on how to counter military spirits.

Numerous reconnaissance units were dispatched to the major military bases, while spy satellites in orbit monitored them twenty-four hours a day, gathering every bit of data possible. With high-tech satellites, it was even possible to determine the exact number of zombies within a base if necessary.

Through the efforts of the satellites, detailed photographic sets were analyzed, and holographic models were used to create identical replicas of the military bases. These models marked the positions of the military spirits and the locations of weapons they might use. The ground scouts merely served to verify and further refine this data.

Each military base was like a girl being stripped bare, appearing naked before their eyes. More exaggeratedly, not only were they stripped, but their every inch of skin and every pore was analyzed under a magnifying glass. Under such circumstances, what secrets could remain?

Without the electronic jamming of a functional military base, these once-mysterious sites were indeed no different from a naked girl.

The precisely crafted models of the military bases arrived at the forward airfield along with the supercarrier. The Southern Front Army command center was established here as well. Mu Gushan, the Army Commander, arrived with Zhou Yuanqiang aboard the supercarrier to take command as the temporary commander of the entire Southern Front Army.

A large number of staff officers who had been stationed at the Commercial Association headquarters arrived as well. They would finalize the details of the plan on the front lines.

At the temporary forward airfield, fighter jets moved into simple hangars, and vast numbers of vehicles were delivered. Tens of thousands of people were busy here, making the entire airfield hum with the sound of human activity. From time to time, attack helicopters took off to patrol the surrounding area.

This place was about 150 kilometers from the nearest Southern Military Region airbase. Barring any accidents, they wouldn’t necessarily encounter patrolling military spirit jets.

The supercarrier hovering high in the sky was responsible for protecting the entire airfield below. With its capabilities, it could launch hundreds of fighters into the air within ten minutes to engage in combat. Furthermore, its anti-aircraft guns had a range of 10,000 meters, and its long, medium, and short-range surface-to-air missiles were a verified nightmare for any intruding aircraft.

With the protection of the supercarrier, there was no need to worry about the forward airfield being attacked.

However, the vanguard against the Southern Military Region was not the Air Force, but the 100,000 soldiers of the Southern Front Army. They would launch the ground assault using blitzkrieg tactics, capturing the military bases one by one before the military spirits could react. The use of Crystal Warriors would be the core of this campaign; they were responsible for using their lightning-fast speed to seize control of the weapons and aircraft within the bases in an instant.

Elite sniper units would also be deployed in this battle. They would provide overwatch and suppressive fire to ensure the military spirits could not reach any weapons.

Only after the special units had controlled the situation would the tank units and infantry appear. They would take over the entire base and eliminate all zombies within.

If the operation failed and the military spirits were alerted, giving them enough time to prep jets and start tanks, the special forces would quickly withdraw, leaving the situation to the tank units and the Air Force. Then it would be a matter of cold steel, a true test of the training results of the tank crews and pilots.

Of course, no one wanted the operation to fail, because even if they defeated the military spirits and reclaimed the bases, the losses would be immense.

In mid-April, after more than half a month of preparation, the operation was ready to enter the execution phase. The 100,000 soldiers were divided into five groups, advancing toward five different military bases. The vanguard—consisting of the Special Forces, snipers, and Crystal Warriors—had already penetrated the perimeters of the bases, ready to strike a fatal blow on command.

Aboard the massive supercarrier, pilots sat ready in every cockpit.

Below at the forward airfield, over a thousand fighter jets had been refueled and rearmed by ground crews, entering a combat-ready state and prepared to take off at a moment’s notice.

Chapter 348: A Wild… Charge

On the outskirts of a military base in the Southern Military Region, the terrain was flat. The yellow soil that was once exposed, bearing the scars of vehicle tracks, human footprints, and tank treads from past training exercises, had been swallowed by seasons of unchecked, rampant wild grass. Various trees, carried here as seeds by the wind and rain, had grown into saplings three or four meters tall.

Within the waist-high grass, there was a gentle swaying, as if a breeze were passing through. Looking out across the horizon, the entire perimeter of the massive military base seemed to be a sea of shifting weeds. Yet, the small trees growing among the brush remained perfectly still, indicating that there was, in fact, no wind at all.

If there was no wind, what was causing the wide, flat expanse of the base’s outskirts to move?

Following a narrow strip of trampled grass, two snipers in green military uniforms could be seen crawling slowly forward. They dragged their anti-material sniper rifles with them, moving without a sound. They were like venomous snakes in the grass, quietly closing in on their prey.

One would never have expected that the post-apocalyptic sniper units were not dispersed among companies, regiments, or divisions. Instead, they were concentrated, forming entire units composed solely of snipers. A full sniper regiment consisted of 1,200 pure snipers, equipped with both light and heavy sniper rifles. They had no reconnaissance teams, no mess crews, and certainly no machine guns or artillery. They were a specialized, undiluted sniper regiment.

The Commercial Association had formed five such sniper regiments, boasting a total of eight thousand snipers. Their logistics relied entirely on transport airships and transport helicopters. They did not infiltrate behind enemy lines; they fought in large-scale formations just like regular soldiers. This was because their targets were the zombies within the cities and the areas where the undead congregated.

The power of a structured sniper regiment was immense. Their effective engagement range exceeded 1,200 meters, and their shots were almost always lethal. In terms of stealth and camouflage, every one of them was more proficient than a standard soldier. Their formidable willpower allowed them to remain at a single sniping point for a day and a night, enduring any manner of insect bites.

Imagine a direct confrontation where 1,200 snipers were positioned at different heights and angles, firing in unison. How many enemies would they kill in a single volley? At a distance of 1,200 meters, ordinary infantry would be nothing more than live targets. How many lives would it take to bridge the gap and reach their own effective range of three or four hundred meters?

The cost of training and equipping an entire sniper regiment even exceeded that of an infantry division.

Like countless venomous snakes, the 1,200 snipers of the regiment slowly converged from all directions toward the optimal sniping positions around the military base. Once in place, they halted, searching for their targets. Their mission was to eliminate every exposed military spirit the moment the raid began.

Meanwhile, within the patches of woods bordering the tall grass, Crystal Warriors clad in heavy battle armor were already prepared. Coated in green paint for the operation, the 500 Crystal Warriors of the battalion looked like Chinasaurian versions of the Hulk, blending seamlessly into the ubiquitous green of the landscape. As long as they remained prone in the grass, even someone standing right next to them would find it difficult to distinguish them from the vegetation.

The Commercial Association’s powerful logistical capabilities, combined with the lack of aerial threats in the post-apocalyptic world, meant that their massive transport airships could guarantee every necessity. Thus, the Association’s military structure tended toward highly specialized combat formations. If a unit needed something, the massive carrying capacity of the transport airships hovering above was enough to keep a battalion-level force supplied with water, food, and ammunition for two or three months.

Behind the Crystal Warriors was an integrated tank regiment, supported by twenty thousand fully armed soldiers and over a hundred armored assault vehicles. The artillery units had no chance to participate in this specific assault; facing the endless military and technological wealth within the base, these “gods of war” would only bring destruction.

The strength of the military spirits did not mean they possessed consciousness or wisdom.

They only reacted when stimulated, which triggered indelible instincts deep within them, causing them to follow the motions of their former lives to operate weapons. This trait meant that many of the military spirits produced were not actually threatening.

For example, military spirits arising from logistics personnel would, when stimulated, attempt to mount missiles or refuel fighter jets and tanks. Radar operators would run to the radar rooms. The real threats were the military spirits of pilots, gunners, and those assigned to anti-aircraft and surface-to-air missiles.

It was April, and while light rain would fall occasionally, the weather was mostly warm and clear.

As the sun shone down, the temperature began to rise slightly. Once the sniper units ahead confirmed they were in position, the entire battalion of Crystal Warriors used their battle blades to brace themselves as they stood up. The heavy battle armor wasn’t excessively heavy, but wearing it for dozens of minutes would make anyone uncomfortable, making it feel as though it were growing heavier by the second.

Their armor, looking much like power suits, was covered in green paint that hadn’t quite dried yet. The streamlined layout of the armor allowed it to harness the power generated by every subtle movement of the body. This was the wonder of the Armor Art. Having reached level five in the Armor Art, Zhou Yuanqiang could calmly face strafing from heavy machine guns. He firmly believed that once he reached level six or seven, even heavy anti-material sniper rifles would be unable to harm him.

Standing in one of the wooded areas, the hundred or so Crystal Warriors hidden there gazed feverishly at their Chairman—the legendary hero and God of War.

Anyone who had seen the Commercial Association’s documentaries knew just how terrifying the man inside that armor was. His ability to turn the tide of battle, his immense strength, and his unstoppable momentum were the stuff of nightmares for his enemies. Amidst a sea of zombies, he was like a ship cutting through the waves, brave and indomitable.

Now, he stood before them, fighting side-by-side with them. How could they not be excited?

To use a classic wuxia dialogue:

“You shouldn’t have come!”

“But I came anyway!”

As the Chairman, the place he most belonged was the command center, or perhaps his flagship, The Chairman super-carrier—not the front lines of a charge, embedded within a melee unit of Crystal Warriors. For Zhou Yuanqiang, this wasn’t about martial valor or personal heroism; it was about leveling up his skills and completing a Ring Task.

While the Armor Art could be leveled up using crystals, the amount required for each level was enough to drive one mad. Therefore, the battlefield became his primary source of experience. To reach an absolutely safe defensive level, Zhou Yuanqiang had to fight.

In a battle of this importance, he naturally wouldn’t miss the chance to take a Ring Task and raise his ring’s level. The 500% experience boost was the reward for the entire campaign. Though the unexpected side quest for capturing this military base only offered 50% experience, even the smallest scrap of meat was still food… so he had come!

The magic of the Armor Art lay in the fact that the armor was manifested. It had been painted green, but if he simply deactivated the Armor Art, the paint would vanish. When he manifested it again, it would once more radiate its usual silvery glow.

The giant sword in his hand was an exaggerated three meters long, its cold edge shimmering in a way that chilled the heart.

Zhou Yuanqiang dragged the sword as he looked at the Crystal Warriors, all of whom were now standing. In other directions, three more companies of Crystal Warriors were preparing to launch a lightning assault on the base from four sides. The signal from the snipers that they were ready would be the moment the Crystal Warriors charged.

“Everyone, we train for a thousand days for a moment like this. You have gone through eighteen months of training and were selected as the absolute elite from the army. I don’t think I need to say much; you all know what our objective is.”

Through the communicator, Zhou Yuanqiang—acting as temporary battalion commander—gazed at the military base looming in the distance and said calmly, “I hereby order all Crystal Warriors: activate your exciters and fight for your honor. Move out!”

Streaks of colored light flashed as the warriors activated their exciters. The energy within the crystals was triggered instantly, converted by the transducers, and finally injected into every cell of the warriors’ bodies as a physiological stimulant.

Power was awakened in that instant.

If you thought these warriors, representing the pinnacle of strength, would burst out like charging leopards, you would be dead wrong. One must remember that crystals didn’t just enhance strength; they also improved agility and coordination.

With the order to move, the 500 Crystal Warriors moved like grass snakes, slithering forward with a fluid but rapid speed. They crawled low, following the paths the snipers had just blazed. Their movements were not hindered by their heavy armor in the slightest; their crawling was nimble, fast, and silent.

In just a few moments, the Crystal Warriors passed the waiting snipers and reached the wire fences and defensive walls of the military base’s perimeter.

The painted armor didn’t reflect sunlight, preventing detection. So far, everything was perfect; the military base had not been alerted. In the peaceful era, this would have been unthinkable. No matter how advanced your technology or how elite your soldiers, it would be impossible for anyone to appear silently before the gates of a large military base without being noticed.

“Brother Zhao, begin!”

Having received Zhou Yuanqiang’s order, Zhao Hongyuan squinted, centering the head of a military spirit in his scope. He whispered into his communicator, “Boss, copy that.” Switching channels, he said coldly, “Proceed as planned. Fire!”

Almost the instant he finished speaking, Zhao Hongyuan pulled the trigger. A bullet streaked from his rifle, and in less than a second, it struck the targeted military spirit. Its head exploded like a watermelon hit by a sledgehammer, shattering into a dozen pieces and a cloud of debris.

The muffled cracks of the sniper rifles heralded death. Imagine the scene as 1,200 snipers fired simultaneously.

The targeted military spirits, special infected, and high-level zombies all had their heads erased by the thunderous volleys. The immense kinetic energy and penetration made many zombie heads vanish from their necks as if they had simply disintegrated.

As hundreds upon thousands of zombies collapsed, it served as the clarion call for the charge.

As soon as the sniper fire erupted, the hidden Crystal Warriors lunged to their feet. Without hesitation, they swung their shimmering battle blades at the wire fences. The hard, sharp blades sliced through the wire with zero resistance. The reinforced warriors surged through the gaps, launching a lightning sprint.

“Kill!”

Amidst the roars of the Crystal Warriors, Zhou Yuanqiang swung his giant sword. He brought it down on a defensive wall blocking his path. The giant sword, weighing over 50 kg and driven by the half-ton of force from Zhou Yuanqiang’s strength, sliced through the wall like it was tofu.

He pulled the giant sword from the stone, raised a leg, and kicked out. The entire section of the wall collapsed with a thunderous boom.

Through the swirling dust, the Crystal Warriors, led by Zhou Yuanqiang, vaulted over the wall. They charged into the base at a speed twice as fast as the world record holder, Usain Bolt. If someone from the modern era were to see this—Crystal Warriors in heavy armor carrying long blades, running at twice the speed of the fastest man on Earth—what would their expression be?

Their terrifying speed—covering a hundred meters in roughly four seconds—shattered the human understanding of velocity. In the blink of an eye, they were deep inside the base.

The hideous zombies only reacted once the Crystal Warriors had shattered the defensive lines and appeared before the main clusters of buildings. Lacking consciousness, they didn’t need confirmation or orders. Their first instinct was to rush toward the intruders.

There were many level six and seven high-level zombies here. These elites among the undead were the first to react and charge forward.

Zhao Hongyuan sneered. He caught a particularly enthusiastic high-level zombie in his scope. He didn’t even need to double-check his crosshairs; in a flick-shot motion, the crosshairs slid across the zombie’s head. The gun barked. Half a second later, the bullet “kissed” the zombie’s skull. The massive impact sent the head turned into meat fragments, and the force of the shot sent the body flying backward to crash heavily into the ground.

The most elite military spirits had top-tier reaction times, but it only served their instinctive nerves.

Most of them only had time to turn their necks before a bullet collided with their skulls, turning the entire head into a red mist. Brain matter sprayed through the air, and crimson fluid erupted from severed necks like fountains.

Military spirit after military spirit collapsed the moment they reacted, their shattered heads sentencing them to permanent death.

The entire military base, including ground crew, soldiers, and pilots, numbered between thirty and forty thousand. It was like poking a hornet’s nest. A black mass of zombies converged into a single force. Meanwhile, the Crystal Warriors surrounded the base from all sides. Within half a minute, the two forces—the dark tide and the green armored wave—slammed into each other.

When the nearest high-level zombie was still three meters away, Zhou Yuanqiang swung his giant sword. Mid-sprint, he suddenly went into a high-speed spin, turning himself into a human top. The giant sword was like the rotor blades of a helicopter, moving so fast it was almost invisible. This razor-sharp cutting machine plowed directly into the charging zombie crowd.

The zombies didn’t even feel it. As the giant sword passed through their waists, the sheer speed allowed them to keep running for another meter before they fell apart into two halves, collapsing onto the ground.

With one whirlwind sweep, over a dozen zombies were sliced in two. Terrifyingly, the “top” didn’t stop, continuing its violent momentum forward. Whether they were high-level or ordinary zombies, none could stand against him. Some zombies were even sliced into several segments, collapsing like spring snow melting away.

While the other Crystal Warriors weren’t quite as ferocious as Zhou Yuanqiang, they were no less deadly. As they closed the distance, they raised their battle blades high.

The moment a zombie’s hideous face appeared, the blade came down without hesitation. These alloy steel blades, driven by massive strength, sliced through the zombies from the crown of the head, through the neck, chest, and stomach, all the way down without snagging, splitting them cleanly in two.

Those looking to conserve energy would sweep their blades across necks, taking heads. More chose to cleave skulls in half or drive a blade straight into the brain to destroy the tissue before pulling it out and immediately plunging it into the next zombie’s head.

The collision of the two tides was one-sided from the start. A massive number of zombies were decapitated in the very first round of the charge.

Like ten thousand horses stampeding, the severed heads that fell were trampled by the Crystal Warriors. Skulls were crushed underfoot into pulpy messes. One should not underestimate the crushing power of several dozen kilograms of armor combined with a reinforced human; shattering a skull was child’s play. The field of splintered bone and grey matter following in their wake was testament enough.

The disabled alarm system was like a girl with her mouth covered, unable to make a sound. The struggle put up by the zombies was pathetic under the suppression of such powerful hands. The wild Crystal Warriors gave the zombies no chance at all, simply grinding over them.

Chapter 349: Breaking Through

If their previous hesitation to target the military spirits was born of fear, then after absorbing the experience gained by the Northern General’s campaign, this opening move was nothing short of a dream.

The impact of five hundred Crystal Warriors was greater than that of ten thousand ordinary soldiers. The hideous zombies were shattered by the first charge. The high-raised battle blades became scythes sending them back to hell. Thousands of zombies were wiped out in the initial collision, and with the snipers providing comprehensive cover fire, half of the zombies in the military base were soon cut down.

In terms of sheer ability, Zhou Yuanqiang could use the abnormal defensive power of his Armor Art and the giant sword in his hand to slaughter every single zombie in the base alone. Even amidst hundreds of thousands of them, he could come and go as he pleased. Thus, dealing with this military base was not particularly difficult for him.

However, no matter how outstanding a general’s ability was, it was impossible for one man to conquer the world alone.

“I’m purely here to just make a cameo and finish a mission,” he muttered.

What Zhou Yuanqiang said was true. After all, soldiers can only grow into battle-hardened veterans through the tempered trials of blood and fire. If he were to open every path for them, would he have to participate in every battle and lead them every single time? That was simply impossible. Therefore, they had to grow quickly and become the most outstanding branch of the special forces.

“In the future, how many more cities and military bases will require their strength?”

The evolution of zombies didn’t mean there were only a few types in a single region. Across the entire continent, many people had similar physical builds and skeletons, which led to their evolutions being largely identical. Yet, some special groups evolved into forms that could not be replicated.

Among these unique variants, some were weak, some were powerful… and there were even ultra-abnormal zombies known as Special Infected.

The results of many zombie evolutions were so bizarre they exceeded human understanding of the natural world. While types like the gross monster could be somewhat explained by human logic, how could one explain the Arch-Zombies that could fire explosive bolts? Their backs looked like porcupines or prehistoric stegosauruses—how did they evolve those sharp, hard arrow-like quills?

Most zombies capable of long-range attacks would seek high ground to extend their range.

An Arch-Zombie, a size larger than a gross monster, slowly crawled onto the roof of a six-story building. The five bolts on its back shimmered in the sunlight. The moment its head peaked out, one of the bolts fired out like it was released from a fully drawn longbow.

The thumb-sized bolt shot out like a meteor, hitting a Crystal Warrior in the blink of an eye.

Although these sharp arrows were only 30 centimeters long, the power they displayed was far beyond what their size suggested. The heavy battle armor, famous for its formidable defense, could not be pierced by the explosive force, but the impact was enough to flip a Crystal Warrior over. The blast could still damage the limb joints that were caught in the radius.

The unlucky Crystal Warrior fell to the ground. He wasn’t dead, but the intense pain from his joints felt as though his tendons and bones had been severed, leaving him unable to move.

The Arch-Zombie’s rate of fire was very fast, and its attack range was even greater than that of the gross monsters. It was hard to imagine that such a small arrow could have such range, especially since it functioned as an explosive round. If used against ordinary soldiers in a dense formation, a single hit could finish off several people.

However, before the Arch-Zombie could fire its second bolt, a bullet whistled through the air, precisely detonating its entire head into a mist of gore.

Among the various long-range threats, the Volt-Zombie was the type capable of dealing a devastating blow to any human unit. Its million-volt discharge balls would turn anything they got near into scorched charcoal. Aircraft, tanks, armored vehicles, and Crystal Warriors were all largely composed of conductive metal. How could they defend against electricity?

The spy satellites had already scouted every corner of the military base clearly. What kind of zombies existed in which locations had been assigned to specific snipers before the battle even began.

There were seven Volt-Zombies scattered throughout the base. These zombies, the natural enemies of Crystal Warriors, were supposed to show their hideous teeth from the start. But the moment they showed so much as the crowns of their heads, high-velocity bullets slammed into them and sent them reeling.

Not one of the seven Volt-Zombies had the chance to fire a discharge ball before their assigned snipers sent them to the afterlife.

“Assault! Don’t get bogged down with the ordinary zombies. Eliminate the military spirits!”

Seeing that the Crystal Warriors seemed to have forgotten the plan in their enjoyment of slicing through ordinary zombies, Zhou Yuanqiang shouted his command. Not far away, the military spirits had reacted and were on the move. Dozens of them were running toward the parked fighter jets at speeds no slower than that of a Crystal Warrior.

If they were the Crystal Warriors of the past, who hadn’t mastered the use of crystal energy, excessive stimulation would have sent their brains into a state of hyper-excitement, causing them to lose themselves.

Though this exciter had been developed by Dr. Bai in the north, Zhou Yuanqiang believed that Huang Changnian’s expertise was superior. Huang Changnian had not only improved the exciter, making its energy regulation more excellent and precise, but he had also made the stimulated crystal energy purer. His greatest contribution was identifying the cause of the brain’s hyper-excitement, allowing the Crystal Warriors to remain clear-headed and act like normal people even while in their reinforced state.

The fact that the soldiers could hear orders on the front line and carry out every command from their leader was entirely thanks to Huang Changnian’s improvements.

The Crystal Warriors, who were slaughtering to their heart’s content, finally snapped out of it upon hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s reminder. They used their battle blades to push aside the zombies in front of them and forced their way through, using their enhanced strength to literally ram through the crowds, dashing through the gaps.

As a military base, security was obviously paramount. It was deployed with a large number of defensive works and various defensive weapons, but they had clearly lost their utility in the apocalypse. Think about it—the base had over a dozen fixed heavy cannons and numerous machine gun towers. Did people really think this place was a paper tiger?

Moreover, if it were a fully staffed military base, who would dare to charge it? With large numbers of stationed troops, rocket launchers, surface-to-air missiles, artillery batteries, attack helicopters, the air force, and tanks… if everything was operational, what would that look like? Without two or three times the military strength, it would be impossible to take down a military base.

In truth, they didn’t necessarily need the Crystal Warriors to fight the military spirits hand-to-hand. With the presence of the sniper regiment and their 1,200 sniper rifles pushing forward step by step, the zombies in the base couldn’t stir up any real trouble. Even the dozens of military spirits that were just about to reach the fighter jets were blown into scrap one by one by the sniper fire.

A 12.7mm heavy sniper rifle could destroy armored vehicles and artillery; when it hit a body… whatever it hit was utterly obliterated.

Even though Zhou Yuanqiang was supposedly just “along for the ride,” he was ruthless when he started killing. The “Super Top” technique was perfect against zombies who could only engage in melee and had no tactical awareness other than rushing forward. He didn’t need to slash, cut, sweep, or chop; he just spun like a top through the crowd, and anything he touched was shredded.

The number of zombies was between thirty and forty thousand—a number that could certainly make one’s arms go weak from exhaustion.

But with the efforts of the snipers and the Crystal Warriors, at least six or seven hundred zombies fell with every volley from the 1,200 snipers. Meanwhile, the Crystal Warriors’ blade frequency was no slower than bullets, lopping off the heads of vast swathes of zombies in moments.

The military base was large, but for the rushing speed of the Crystal Warriors, a third of it was captured in just one minute.

Zhou Yuanqiang swatted a zombie over ten meters away with his giant sword, watching it shatter upon landing. He then looked at a J-8 fighter jet parked on the runway and sighed. Time had left deep marks on it; the peeling paint made it look like a dying old man. The rusty patches looked like various spots of psoriasis, making it seem like a piece of junk.

The jet was fully armed, with various missiles already mounted; it must have been an emergency response aircraft.

This was a joint air and ground base, housing an aviation division as well as an army armored division. This mixed formation allowed the base to be proficient in both offense and defense.

Prior to this, the Commercial Association had debated whether the vast amount of equipment in the captured military bases was worth repairing and putting back into service. A huge amount of equipment had been damaged over time. While they could be used after repairs, the cost of maintenance seemed too high—it was far less efficient than simply manufacturing more HY-3 fighters.

Furthermore, the performance of the numerous J-7, J-8, and J-10 jets was far inferior to the HY-3. Only the J-11 was comparable in strength. Was it really worth equipping the army with them?

Another issue was logistical pressure. The Commercial Association didn’t have spare parts for these J-series fighters. It wasn’t hard to get them flying, but maintaining them was the real struggle. It would mean setting up a whole new production chain, and it was better to invest that energy into the Commercial Association’s fourth-generation fighter jets, the HY-4.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang had his own plans. Wouldn’t these jets from the modern era be much more fitting for modern arms sales than the HY series?

Just thinking about the thousands of jets across the mainland, plus those from other countries—India, Japan, Korea, Russia, America, Britain, Germany, and so on—collecting all sorts of equipment from around the world including jets, tanks, and naval vessels… Zhou Yuanqiang’s mouth practically watered. Just how much money could he sell these for?

Falling into a state of extreme tactical daydreaming, he unhesitatingly ordered that all weapons from the military bases must be repaired and refurbished.

The Chairman’s confusing whims were a common occurrence, and the people of the Commercial Association had long since grown used to it. Thus, without even asking what the refurbishment was for, they began drawing up operational plans and setting up various repair factories for jets and tanks.

The current base was surrounded on all sides. With the snipers supporting them from behind, the Crystal Warriors were constantly compressing the zombies’ living space.

There were over a thousand military spirits in the base. Some hadn’t exposed themselves yet. Although the snipers had killed most of the assigned military spirits, there were always a few that couldn’t be stopped—their locations only becoming apparent when they made a move.

When a military spirit made a move, it invariably meant entering a combat state and operating a weapon…

The turret of a Type 99 main battle tank began to rotate. The tank cannon quickly leveled at the charging Crystal Warriors. Amidst a flash of fire, a shell whistled out and exploded right between two Crystal Warriors. The massive power threw them into the air. In the end, even the heavy battle armor couldn’t protect them; they were instantly rendered into dozens of pieces of flesh.

With a rate of fire of up to nine rounds per minute, it was a literal killing machine. The barrel shifted slightly, and another shell blasted out, tossing three more Crystal Warriors. When they hit the ground, they were merely twitching, clearly not long for this world.

Zhou Yuanqiang stared in shock at this stationary Type 99 tank.

In seven years, its treads and other parts had long since been corroded, and paint was flaking off the barrel. At first glance, one might think it was a scrapped tank waiting for the junk yard. But in reality, hearing the roar of its cannon and the fleeing tongues of flame, it was clear the interior had not been affected by time.

The Type 99 was the premier tank in the country. The only thing a sniper rifle could do was damage its treads; beyond that, it was useless.

The Crystal Warriors’ battle blades? Don’t be ridiculous. Could those blades cut through tank armor? That would be the joke of the century.

Taking advantage of this, the tank happily spat out shells of death. The moving turret was like the hand of a clock harvesting lives; whoever it pointed at was doomed. In a short time, this single Type 99 sitting among dozens of other tanks had ended the lives of over a dozen Crystal Warriors.

“Damn it, do you know how much effort it takes to train a single Crystal Warrior?”

Zhou Yuanqiang dragged his giant sword and sprinted toward the tank, roaring, “And yet you just killed over a dozen of them!”

The rapidly moving Zhou Yuanqiang was soon caught in the tank’s sights. With a “boom,” a crater appeared behind him. A dozen zombies chasing him were caught in the crossfire instead, torn to shreds by the shell. The few that could still move were merely crawling on the ground.

As if dead set on Zhou Yuanqiang, the tank followed him, firing shot after shot.

“If I don’t show some real skill, you’ll think I’m just a paper tiger.”

Zhou Yuanqiang, who had only been using a fifth of his power, suddenly ramped up to half. The shadow that could still be seen became increasingly transparent. With a quick side-step, he suddenly darted in front of the tank, leaving the enemy without any recourse.

He leapt onto the tank and hacked down with his giant sword, first disabling the coaxial machine gun. Who knew if it still worked? If it suddenly started chattering, his soldiers would be the ones to suffer. To be safe, Zhou Yuanqiang also disabled the anti-aircraft machine gun before peeling open the hatch with one hand.

There was still some zombie filth on the edge of the hatch, likely left by the military spirit when it hurriedly entered the tank.

The moment the hatch opened, a foul stench wafted out, making Zhou Yuanqiang nearly gag. “Damn it, why is every zombie in this apocalypse smellier than the last?” Even Zhou Yuanqiang, who had smelled dozens of types of zombie odors, couldn’t immediately adapt to the even stronger pungency of a military spirit.

To deal with the spirit inside, Zhou Yuanqiang simply thrust his giant sword down through the hatch, splitting the head of the military spirit in the commander’s seat in two.

He had originally thought about tossing a grenade in to end it once and for all, but he remembered that this tank could be fixed up, given a new coat of paint, and used immediately. If he sold it in the modern world, it would be worth millions of dollars. How could he let a single grenade turn it into scrap?

In truth, this battle had been meticulously planned, with every military spirit accounted for; there was no suspense. The formidable sniper regiment and the wild Crystal Warriors complemented each other perfectly. The melee Crystal Warriors drew the zombies’ attention, and the snipers in the rear delivered the fatal blows. Even in a clash between two armies, the exceptional abilities of the Crystal Warriors and the defense of their heavy battle armor would be a nightmare for any enemy.

The entire air-and-ground base was cleared of military spirits, high-level zombies, and special infected in just ten minutes. The remaining ordinary zombies were just entertainment for the Crystal Warriors, whose reinforcement state still had twenty minutes left. They used their battle blades to slit the throats of zombie after zombie, like wolves entering a flock of lambs.

In fact, the entire battle was won without the tank regiment or the twenty thousand soldiers in the rear having to fire a single shot or swing a single blade. The base had fallen.

However, while this base was being captured, an accident occurred at a different airbase. The originally foolproof surprise attack failed because the airbase’s perimeter alarm system was still operational. Before the snipers could crawl even a hundred meters through the grass, a mournful alarm rang out, echoing across the sky.

It was like poking a hornet’s nest. The eyes of powerful military spirits flashed with light, like a pack of sharks smelling blood. Stimulated, they acted entirely on their old instincts, driving them back to their former posts.

A surprise raid had turned into a frontal assault!

Chapter 350: Effortless

Becoming a pilot was considered a position of immense prestige within the Commercial Association.

Liu Yuanyang was undoubtedly one of those fortunate few who had become a pilot. Among pilots, the ultimate honor was serving aboard a super mothership. Liu Yuanyang truly considered himself the luckiest of the lucky. After a grueling selection process and numerous tests, he had finally proven his superior technical skills and quick thinking, earning his place on this behemoth of the Commercial Association.

Currently, he was strapped into his beloved fighter jet, fully geared up and awaiting the order to sortie.

The Commercial Association didn’t discourage pilots from obsessively cleaning and polishing their aircraft. Although maintenance was the responsibility of the logistics crew, every pilot was infatuated with their brand-new fighter jets. Usually, when they weren’t on a mission, they would spend their time personally cleaning every nook and cranny until the craft was spotless.

Reflecting on the Association’s journey, Liu Yuanyang recalled the early days when people barely had enough to eat. Then came the Chairman’s powerful rise, which gave the wilderness settlement a new future. The subsequent changes could only be described as miraculous. First, they solved the food and salt crises, and then time and again, they stood firm against the zombie tides in the Wildlands. New projects rose from the ground one after another. The army expanded, new weapons appeared, and they saved the Great Canyon, merged the Tianzhou Plain, integrated Breadfruit Tree Village… eventually even swallowing the Lanxi Alliance, which had been larger than themselves.

In the past, the lowest rung of society was the Zombie Hunters. Being part of a private armed force for some team was considered a high status. A step above that were the soldiers of the Administration. Back then, could he have ever imagined that a mere laborer from a botanical garden—someone who wasn’t even qualified to be a Zombie Hunter—would become a pilot?

Even today, Liu Yuanyang felt like he was living in a dream.

The moment he stepped onto this super mothership and felt the call of its immense presence, Liu Yuanyang vowed to give his all to the mothership and the Commercial Association.

These memories flashed through his mind in an instant. He turned his head to look at the dense rows of fighter jets beside him, stretching seemingly without end. The super mothership was cruising at an altitude of 3,000 meters. As the wind blew past, there was a slight swaying sensation. Those unaccustomed to it would initially feel a bit lightheaded.

Hovering at this height was a magical experience. Clouds drifted past the super mothership, and it felt as though one could reach out and touch them. Unfortunately, the white clouds seen from below were no different from common mist when one was actually inside them; some were even thinner.

According to the super mothership’s regulations, as soon as a fighter jet landed, logistics personnel had to immediately refuel and rearm it, even if no mission was scheduled. This was the second deck, housing approximately 400 fighter jets. Of course, these 400 did not include the attack helicopters stationed nearby.

At this altitude, they were about 150 kilometers away from the front lines of the battle. If there were heavy artillery fire, they would surely hear something. However, the General Staff’s tactics focused mainly on light weapons, with the Army serving as the primary force. The Air Force would only be deployed if the Army suffered a setback.

Liu Yuanyang couldn’t quite understand it. Between the super mothership and the forward airfields below, they had nearly 2,000 fighter jets. Did they really need to worry about the four aviation divisions of the Southern Military Region? Moreover, it would be a miraculous feat of military spirit evolution if even a fifth of the enemy’s aviation divisions’ planes could actually take off.

Waiting was dull. Even though he had only been in the cockpit for about ten minutes, it felt as excruciating as ten days to Liu Yuanyang.

Fortunately, the communication system didn’t ban chatter between squadron members. Everyone was sharing their views on the current situation. The Southern Front Army had been sweeping through with almost no resistance. Once the Southern Military Region was broken, City S lay only a hundred kilometers to the east. If City S fell in one battle, the southern campaign would essentially be over.

As for the Eastern Front Army? With the Bird’s Nest mothership participating and over 800 fighter jets bombing day and night, advancing to Shanghai shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

“I really hope those softies in the Army stir up the military spirits in the base. It’d give us a chance to practice!”

The words of one teammate drew laughter from the rest. One person joked, “If you tell Commander Xu that, I’m sure he’ll give you a big reward. He might even give you some special treatment. Or maybe you can ask the Chairman personally to let you duel with the military spirits?”

Knowing it was impossible, they simply joked to stay relaxed.

The Commercial Association repeatedly emphasized precision—partly to protect their own people, and partly to preserve the equipment within the military bases. The Association’s development was still lacking in many areas; they needed the technological power of the military bases to fuel their own research and progress.

Who could guarantee that survivors abroad hadn’t secured their own nations’ equipment? The performance of the HY-3 was good, but it was far from a match for the fourth-generation fighter jets of the Americans. To remain invincible in the future, they had to desperately upgrade their technology and manufacture even stronger weapons.

Perhaps the heavens were moved by these war-hungry, hot-blooded young men. The chat channel was suddenly cut off, replaced by the blare of an alarm. Simultaneously, the voice of the Vice Fleet Commander came through: “All units, attention. Coordinates XXX. First and Second Divisions, launch immediately.”

A massive cheer erupted. One by one, the roaring fighter jets were guided from their parking spots. Within moments, they shot off the deck, soaring into the blue sky.

Like a giant beehive, swarms of “bees” surged out, quickly filling the sky. They formed three-plane sub-squadrons and dove toward the received coordinates. Behind them, the massive silhouettes of the super mothership and its six escort military airships were so gargantuan they were almost suffocating.

“Old man, your wish came true! If you don’t knock down an enemy plane today, don’t blame us for giving you a thrashing when you get back.”

Laughter echoed throughout the sub-squadrons. The Air Force’s tactic was to utilize numerical superiority, using three-on-one maneuvers to shoot down the enemy. Unless they were extremely unlucky, achieving a zero-loss victory was highly probable.

Meanwhile, at a certain airbase, the banshee-like wail of the alarm caught all the snipers off guard, while the Crystal Warriors in the rear were stunned. This was a classic case of plans failing to keep up with changes. The entire military base was like a startled rabbit or a disturbed hornet’s nest. Stimulated by the alarm, zombies scurried everywhere, while the military spirits acted as if they had regained their souls, rushing toward the rows of parked fighter jets on the base.

At this stage, there was no such thing as a retreat. Xiao Tianyi, serving as the commander, immediately ordered: “Snipers, fire! Crystal Warriors, assault! Tank units, move up!”

Upon receiving the order, the snipers dropped into half-kneeling positions, propped up their sniper rifles, and fired—boom—at the running military spirits. Unfortunately, the majority of the snipers weren’t in position yet. Shooting from their current distance, they couldn’t kill many military spirits; mostly, they were just clearing out the stray ordinary zombies.

The Crystal Warriors, entering their reinforced state, charged toward the airbase at a speed of 100 meters every 4.5 seconds.

The military spirits, having already entered a defensive state, activated several machine gun towers. The strafing of machine guns suddenly rang out, dense as a rainstorm. For the sprinting Crystal Warriors, their heavy battle armor was tough, but even the strongest armor had weak points against heavy machine gun rounds.

If hit by a heavy machine gun bullet, those with good luck would only have their armor dented, with the impact force knocking them down and leaving them in pain. Those with bad luck would have their armor torn open by the bullet, which would then plunge into their flesh. It would leave a relatively small entry hole, but the internal structures would be shredded by the bullet’s shockwave. They would fall to the ground, never to rise again.

It turned out there were hundreds of military spirits in this airbase, appearing at the posts they had held in life.

Fighter jets on the runway began to roar. It was hard to believe that some of these planes had been so well-maintained that they could ignite on the first try and begin taxiing for takeoff. Out of the entire aviation division stationed at the airbase, nearly a third of the jets were actually started.

Everyone witnessing this felt a cold sweat on their brows.

The terrifying logistics military spirits had apparently spent the last seven years maintaining these jets according to their former routines, ensuring their combat capabilities hadn’t diminished in the slightest. Only now did people realize why jets that hadn’t been used in seven years could be flight-ready at a moment’s notice.

Over twenty fighter jets roared powerfully on the massive runway, directly knocking aside any zombies in their path. After sufficient taxiing, they soared into the sky.

For anti-material sniper rifles, taking down a jet wasn’t particularly difficult. As long as they scored a hit, the precision instruments of the jet would likely be destroyed. Seeing jets still attempting to take off on the runway, the snipers reacted quickly, adjusting their rifles. They peered through their scopes and aimed for the nose of the planes. Boom! They fired.

One jet was hit in the nose. The bullet tore inward, destroying various precision instruments and causing a short circuit. The taxiing jet immediately lost balance. The moment the engine failed, the nose veered sharply, crashing into the open grass beside the runway. It skidded for several hundred meters before finally coming to a stop.

It wasn’t just that one; four or five other jets were hit and forced to stop.

One particularly unlucky plane had its fuel tank hit, and another bullet struck one of its mounted missiles. In a violent explosion, the entire jet was flipped over. The ensuing chain reaction of explosions reduced the aircraft to a field of scattered debris.

However, of these twenty-plus jets, nineteen managed to make it into the sky. With a roar, they banked in the air, and a missile detached from the belly of one jet, diving toward the tactical tank group approaching from the rear. In the blink of an eye, the missile struck a tank. The brutal explosion lifted the dozens-of-tons tank half a meter off the ground. The entire turret was blown five or six meters into the air before crashing heavily back down.

“Duh… duh-duh-duh… duh-duh…” Anti-aircraft machine guns, controlled by commanders emerging from their hatches, began strafing the jets in the sky. The surface-to-air missiles on either side of the tanks also fired, their exhaust trails billowing as they left their launchers and streaked toward the enemy planes.

With over a hundred tanks in the regiment, they fired over a hundred surface-to-air missiles at once. The previously arrogant jets, hampered by the close range, saw six of their number hit. They turned into massive fireballs in the sky and plummeted to the ground. Meanwhile, more tanks acted as lumbering iron fortresses; under the missile fire, some had no chance to react, and over a dozen tanks were turned into heaps of burning scrap metal.

The thunderous sounds of battle and explosions carried for miles… The flying squadrons, hearing the noise, felt their blood boil. A distance of over a hundred kilometers meant nothing to jets that could reach speeds of 1,300 kilometers per hour. In the time it took to turn one’s head a few times, the battlefield was right before their eyes.

“Brothers, time to work! There are fifteen jets total. Every five sub-squadrons take one. Be careful; don’t let a dead man send you to the grave!”

At the squadron leader’s command, the excited pilots didn’t hesitate to pounce on the small black dots ahead. With two entire aviation divisions against fifteen enemy planes—fifteen against one—it would be a massive embarrassment if they couldn’t win or if some unlucky fool got shot down.

Among the fifteen enemy jets, there were six J-11s, three J-10s, and the rest were J-8s. They seemed to have noticed the swarms of unidentified jets in the sky and decisively abandoned the tanks below. They pulled their noses up sharply and shot into the clouds like arrows.

The performance of the J-11 was indeed far superior to the J-8, but it was still barely slightly better than the HY-3 fighter jet—and only by a small margin. No matter how skilled these military spirits were, it was impossible for them to fight fifteen-to-one against jets with similar performance.

Did they think air combat was like being a sniper in the Army, where one person could kill dozens or hundreds of enemies?

Even during wartime, shooting down five planes made one an “Ace.” Shooting down an enemy plane was no simple task. Even with the world’s most advanced jets and top-tier pilots, no one would dare claim they could take on fifteen opponents and win.

Thus, the entire air battle was completely one-sided. Under the coordination of the fifteen-plane groups, fifteen missiles were launched right from the start.

The high-performance J-11s fared slightly better, using their speed and agility to narrowly evade the missiles. However, planes with performance like the J-8 had no way to fight back against the missiles coming from all directions. They were transformed into massive fireballs in the sky, their parts raining down below.

Even the J-10s were no exception. This somewhat “shameless” method of attack gave them no chance at all.

Only the J-11s acted like cunning foxes, diving and climbing to challenge the fifteen jets tailing them. But against such overwhelming numbers, no tactic offered any hope. They were picked off one by one as they tried to flee.

The air battle ended in just over ten minutes. All the military spirit jets were annihilated, leaving the sky filled with the thick scent of gunpowder.

On the ground, nearly twenty tanks were sacrificed, now sitting as heaps of burning scrap metal with thick black smoke rising into the air. The battle hadn’t been particularly intense, but in those ten minutes, the losses were significant—nearly a hundred men had died.

Aside from the incident at this airbase, the other military bases were captured without issue. With multiple layers of security, they took control of the situations within ten minutes.

This terrifying rate of conquest might sound unbelievable, but it was reality. Zombies were, after all, just zombies—devoid of thought or consciousness. The mountains of weapons in the military bases meant nothing to them. At the slightest noise, they would simply swarm forward, relying on their claws and teeth.

Only the military spirits could operate weapons, but thanks to the military satellites, two weeks of reconnaissance had already confirmed the location of almost every military spirit. Under the precision fire of the massive sniper unit, the vast majority were killed before they could even react.

For targets the snipers couldn’t hit, the General Staff calculated the potential losses and area of effect, then used a cruise missile to easily solve the problem.

Given these advantages, securing a military base in ten minutes wasn’t so far-fetched. And one mustn’t forget the wild Crystal Warriors; their sharp battle blades were many times faster than bullets when dealing with ordinary zombies. Under their charge, they became harvesters, and the zombies… were merely a field of wheat or rice.

After controlling the military bases, they faced mountains of weapons—some in storage, some exposed. Massive numbers of tanks, armored vehicles, transport trucks, towed artillery, self-propelled guns, planes, and bombers—at least half of the Southern Military Region’s equipment—became the spoils of war for the Commercial Association.

A swarm of transport airships appeared like locusts. However, they didn’t carry the equipment back to the Association headquarters. Instead, they brought in various construction materials to repair the military bases. Large numbers of logistics personnel and factory technicians formed a migration force, moving into the bases.

After conquering the Southern Military Region, the entire Southern Front Army faced G Province, which no longer held any military threat. They only needed to take the provincial capital and then push southeast. After passing City D, they would arrive at the place Zhou Yuanqiang was most familiar with: City S.

The troops rested for only a single day before marching directly toward the capital of G Province.

Chapter 351: A Stylish Entrance

On the boundless ocean, a destroyer was cutting through the wind and waves, sailing across the vast sea.

A seven-colored umbrella flag fluttered loudly in the sea breeze. From the day it was first raised, it had never been taken down. Even Shui Mulian didn’t quite understand why; was it truly as that guy had said, that it represented protection and peace? Perhaps it did. The ocean was often beset by violent gales and massive waves, and with that flag flying, it felt like a protective talisman.

But was that really the case?

Standing by the destroyer’s gunwale and gripping the railing, Shui Mulian felt the salt-scented sea breeze on her face. Occasionally, the waves would crash against the hull, sending sprays of water into the air. She stared blankly at the endless ocean, lost in thought. For some reason, that guy’s roguish smile was impossible to shake. Months had passed, yet it felt as if he were still right there beside her.

Just last month, Old Man Jiu had fallen ill. In this post-apocalyptic world devoid of medical care, he had only held on for three days before closing his eyes forever.

Children of the apocalypse were supposed to be accustomed to life and death. Yet on that day, everyone on Shuimu Island had wept. The thousands of people on the island had all been led through the collapse by Old Man Jiu; it was he who had given them a second chance at life. Now that he was gone, who would stand at the edge of the sea cliff every day waiting for her to return? Who would comfort her? Who would give her another chance after she made a mistake?

She remembered the moment of Old Man Jiu’s terminal lucidity. He had entrusted everything on Shuimu Island to her before departing with lingering regret. Shui Mulian knew that he was worried about her. When he was alive, his presence alone compelled obedience. Now that he was gone and the prestige he left behind was fading, how could a lone woman survive in this harsh world?

In just one month, ambitious men had begun to emerge on Shuimu Island. Though they hadn’t openly challenged her yet, who knew what tomorrow or the day after would bring?

Shui Mulian realized that on the entire island, the only people she could truly rely on were Guo Aimei and a dozen or so others. To this day, only they—the backbone of the destroyer—remained loyal to her. The destroyer had only two anti-ship missiles left. While they served as a deterrent to those with treacherous hearts, Shui Mulian knew that eventually, people would stop fearing them.

The purpose of this trip was once again to resupply diesel. The destroyer was a total fuel-guzzler; no matter how much diesel they obtained, it was never enough to satisfy its thirst.

Thinking of Xu Zihua made Shui Mulian grit her teeth. If she could, she really wanted to seize the oil well for herself. But remembering Xu Zihua’s arrogant words, she felt a wave of helplessness.

“If I use the missiles, wouldn’t I just destroy the oil well directly? If I don’t use the missiles, what else can I use? Rely on the armed force of a few dozen men? They’re no match for Xu Zihua’s hundreds. Besides, the man threatened that if anyone dared to move against him, he would blow the place up, and no one would ever get a single drop of fuel again.”

Because of this, Shui Mulian could only obediently trade grain for fuel. It had been fine at first, but after a few months, Xu Zihua had clearly forgotten his previous wounds. His attitude had become increasingly arrogant, likely because he felt he had nothing to fear from the destroyer anymore.

“I heard he found a torpedo boat?”

Shui Mulian quickly shook the terrifying thought away. She didn’t dare imagine what Xu Zihua would be like if he truly had a torpedo boat. She could only hope it was just a rumor.

As she was lost in thought, Guo Aimei, acting as her personal guard, walked out. Seeing Shui Mulian staring blankly at the sea, she approached and winked. “Captain, I’ve noticed that ever since that guy named Zhou left, you’ve been dazed every day. Sigh, they say a young woman’s heart is full of longing, and it’s certainly true in your case.”

Snapping back to reality, Shui Mulian’s face flushed slightly. She defended herself, saying, “What do you mean ‘longing’? Are you talking about yourself? Not long ago, I saw you and Zhang Zhijie heading toward the… the woods. Tell me, what exactly were you two doing in there?”

Guo Aimei’s face turned beet red, looking as if it might drip blood. She could only let out a few muffled hums before finally retorting, “What Zhang Zhijie and I did in the woods… well, once your sweetheart arrives and you go into the woods with him, I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you.”

“Bah! And here I thought you were a lady. You’re more disgusting than those crude men.” Shui Mulian paused, her brow furrowing. “I don’t think Zhang Zhijie is a good person. You’d better stay away from him and be careful. Don’t let him trick you.”

Guo Aimei tugged at a corner of her clothes, wanting to say something, but she ultimately held back. “Yes, I’ll be careful,” she replied. She thought about their wild encounter in the woods that day—that long-lost, soul-stirring sensation. How could anyone forget that? Besides, no matter how others saw him, Ajie didn’t seem like a bad man to her.

Seeing that Guo Aimei wasn’t really listening, Shui Mulian didn’t say more. She turned and walked back into the bridge.

About half an hour later, the oil well became visible through the binoculars. It looked no different than before: a massive 100,000-ton class tanker was moored alongside it, and the refinery was roaring. Thick plumes of smoke could be seen from even ten nautical miles away. Patrol skiffs circled the perimeter, skimming across the water like dragonflies.

The people at the oil well were long-accustomed to the destroyer, as the warship appeared once a week. The patrol skiffs didn’t even approach for an inspection; they merely sped alongside as the destroyer navigated toward the oil well. Once the destroyer had docked, the skiffs roared off again.

With four cooperation opportunities a month, they had conducted over a dozen transactions over the past few months. Once the destroyer was moored, its men began carrying crates of grain off the ship and onto the small pier beside the oil well. Several men stood on the pier, weighing and counting the grain.

Everything seemed the same as the last transaction, so Shui Mulian didn’t leave the destroyer. Instead, she stayed in the bridge, frowning as she thought about the future of Shuimu Island. While these large-scale fuel exchanges allowed the island’s fishing boats to increase their catch, Xu Zihua rarely wanted seafood; he only wanted grain.

But regarding grain, Shuimu Island only produced one crop a year. After feeding thousands of people, there wasn’t much left. How many more times could they trade?

“Shui village isn’t an island suitable for large-scale farming after all. There are too many rocky belts. Once I get the fuel this time, maybe I can migrate the whole island to another large island nearby. There’s a large, flat grassland there that could be reclaimed into fertile fields. I just don’t know if the people there would tolerate us.”

Thinking about migration and the series of problems it involved, Shui Mulian felt a headache coming on. She murmured to herself, “If only Old Man Jiu were still here. He would have handled everything perfectly.”

While she was deep in thought, one of her subordinates rushed in, shouting, “Captain, they’re saying this batch of grain is only worth a third of the usual amount of diesel!”

“What happened?” Upon hearing the news, Shui Mulian stood up abruptly in surprise, but she quickly calmed herself and sat back down. “What’s their reason? Is this Xu Zihua’s doing again?”

She was no longer the naive young lady of the past. The apocalypse had taught her much, and after having the weight of the entire island on her shoulders for the past few months, she had matured rapidly. At the very least, her impulsive nature had been tempered, replaced by a shadow of Old Man Jiu’s steady composure.

the subordinate replied, “It seems they’re claiming they have too much grain already. They said they don’t even need this batch and are only agreeing to the trade at a loss for the sake of your ‘face’.”

Shui Mulian didn’t need to guess to know Xu Zihua was behind this. She sneered and said, “Has this Xu Zihua forgotten the pain now that his wound has healed? Tell the men to go on alert and prime the anti-ship missiles. I want to see what kind of tricks he’s trying to play.”

Meanwhile, standing atop the oil well, Xu Zihua looked down at the destroyer with a cold sneer. Even though he saw the destroyer’s anti-ship missiles being activated, his sneer remained, and he said self-mockingly, “I was afraid a few months ago, but that doesn’t mean I’m still afraid now. An empty shell… what right does it have to be proud? Today… it and she will both belong to me.”

He thought back to these past few months, of how he had constantly remembered the moment those missiles were pointed at him. The oppressive aura of death had made him unable to move. That humiliation had deeply provoked his already twisted heart.

Once that crisis had passed, he had gone mad with effort, sending out a large number of men and even personally visiting several South Sea Fleet bases to see if he could find a warship of his own to dominate the region. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the luck of Shui Mulian and her people. Those ships still at the bases were beyond his ability to take, and those outside had long since drifted away over the years.

However, hard work paid off. After months of searching, he finally discovered a damaged torpedo boat in a coastal bay.

So what if it was broken? It could be repaired bit by bit, and eventually, it would work. An overjoyed Xu Zihua had the torpedo boat secretly towed back. After extensive repairs, it was finally functional. Furthermore, the torpedoes it carried were no paper tigers; they were genuine, lethal weapons.

From the day the torpedo boat was fixed, he had been waiting day and night for Shui Mulian to appear. He knew she would come because she needed fuel, and he was the only source in the area.

As they say, heaven does not betray those who are diligent. She had finally arrived, but did she really think she could escape his grasp again?

“What a beautiful, majestic destroyer!”

Xu Zihua sighed in admiration. Seeing Shui Mulian walk out from the bridge, he smiled and waved his hand. “Brothers, follow me down.” With that, he led the way, clattering down the stairs. This time, he was going to return the humiliation they had given him.

Descending to the small pier and seeing the still-cold and elegant Shui Mulian, the corner of Xu Zihua’s mouth curled into a smirk. He laughed loudly. “Mulian, your looks haven’t changed a bit despite the sea breeze and sun. You’re still so beautiful—it’s heartbreaking. Every time I see you, it’s like the first time I was stunned by your beauty.”

Hearing such sickening words, Shui Mulian nearly gagged. Her brow furrowed, and she got straight to the point. “Why only a third?”

Xu Zihua laughed triumphantly. “No reason other than I feel like it. I say how much you can trade, and that’s how much it is.” He glanced at the destroyer beside them and clicked his tongue. “A big fellow like this… a third of the fuel will only last a few days.”

Seeing his fearless attitude, Shui Mulian felt a jolt of alarm. She pointed at the anti-ship missiles on the destroyer, aimed directly at the tanker and the oil well. “Have you already forgotten?”

“How could I forget? It is precisely because I never forgot for a moment that I worked so hard to find a solution.” He laughed happily and gestured. “For example, your destroyer only has two missiles. For another example, the people on your island seem to be restless. And for one more, you seem to be lovesick.”

Shui Mulian was shocked. “How do you know that?” Sensing the ‘lovesick’ comment, she spat in disgust. “You’re shameless!”

Xu Zihua saw that his men had already surrounded the area, and the torpedo boat—previously hidden between the 100,000-ton tanker and the refinery ship—had silently appeared not far from the destroyer. Feeling that the situation was under his control, he clapped his hands. Soon, to Shui Mulian’s shock, Zhang Zhijie from Shuimu Island stepped out from among Xu Zihua’s men.

“Now do you understand why I know everything so clearly?”

Shui Mulian pointed at Zhang Zhijie and roared in rage, “You ungrateful traitor! Old Man Jiu hasn’t been dead for long, and you’ve already forgotten how you survived or how he treated you? What did Xu Zihua give you to make you do such a thing, to help an outsider betray your own people?”

Zhang Zhijie was indeed a handsome man, thirty years old and full of mature masculine charm. He chuckled. “Betray my own people? I never considered you my person.” At this point, he added maliciously, “Remember years ago? You, a bitch, actually dared to reject my advances. If it weren’t for that old geezer Jiu, you would have been moaning in my arms long ago.”

Hearing Zhang Zhijie’s words, Xu Zihua’s face darkened, and a cold light flashed in his eyes, though it was unclear what he was thinking.

Only Guo Aimei, standing beside Shui Mulian, looked as if she had been struck by lightning. She pointed at Zhang Zhijie and screamed, “You… you… you bastard!”

Zhang Zhijie merely glanced at Guo Aimei and said indifferently, “You stupid woman. Do you really think there’s love in the apocalypse? I really don’t know how someone as naive as you has lived this long. Remember, in this world, it’s the law of the jungle. In my heart, you’re nothing but a whore. Do you understand, a whore?”

Guo Aimei grit her teeth in fury. She suddenly drew the pistol from her waist and roared, “You bastard, I’m going to kill you!”

Bang!

A gunshot rang out. Zhang Zhijie looked behind him in disbelief, clutching his pierced chest. “Wh-why?”

Xu Zihua blew a wisp of smoke from his pistol and said coolly, “Because you dared to call my beloved woman a bitch. More importantly, I cannot tolerate you fantasizing about my woman moaning under you. For that alone, you must die. As for everything you did for me, I won’t forget you. On this day next year, I’ll have someone burn plenty of spirit money so you can live like a rich man down there.”

Unfortunately, the unwilling Zhang Zhijie didn’t get to hear the end of Xu Zihua’s speech. As his life faded, he collapsed onto the steel plate of the pier, his eyes wide and turning a dull grey.

Having killed a man as if crushing an ant, Xu Zihua pointed at the torpedo boat and looked at the pale Shui Mulian. “If you don’t want to die, then be a good ‘Oil Queen’ here. Your subordinates can continue to survive in this world and breathe this salty air. Otherwise…”

Those below—some terrified, others fanatical—failed to notice a massive shadow appearing thousands of meters above in the sky. the faint sound of thrusters was drowned out by the crashing waves. It simply hovered there above the oil well.

After it moved into position, an attack helicopter detached from it and flew downward with a loud whirring sound.

It wasn’t until the attack helicopter was about a thousand meters in the air that someone heard the whirring. However, with their attention fixed on the helicopter, they still didn’t see the massive entity above the clouds. Instead, they stared intently at the attack helicopter that seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

Xu Zihua and his men were bewildered and terrified. They simply couldn’t understand how a helicopter could appear here.

Shui Mulian, meanwhile, stared blankly at the attack helicopter. She would never forget it; when he had left, he had been piloting this very helicopter. She still remembered that receding silhouette clearly, as if the entire world had been left with nothing but that seven-colored umbrella.

“It’s him. It must be him.”

Shui Mulian almost wanted to rush over and weep about everything that had happened over the past few months. But for some reason, her legs wouldn’t move. She could only stare blankly as the attack helicopter drew closer. The seven-colored umbrella on its belly seemed to mirror the flag fluttering on the destroyer.

A moment later, the attack helicopter landed on the destroyer’s helipad. As the door opened, a figure clad in shimmering silver armor stepped out. Completely encased in the armor with only a slit for his eyes, no one could tell who he was.

What was even more terrifying was that this person was dragging a shockingly massive giant sword as if it weighed nothing. As the sun hit the blade, it flashed with a spine-chilling light. Before the watching crowd, the guy in the flashy armor first struck a grandstanding pose next to the helicopter, then shouldered the giant sword and began walking toward the small pier.

“Aha! Everyone, remember me? Haven’t seen you in a few months, and yet everyone looks exactly the same!”

Chapter 352: Who Has More People?

“Don’t go grandstanding, or you’ll get struck by lightning!”

Seeing this guy—who was indeed looking quite flashy—these were the words Xu Zihua most wanted to say.

Look at him, for god’s sake. Dressed in armor made of silver, lead, and aluminum, did he think he was some Mecha Warrior or a Transformer? Especially that Terrifyingly large giant sword; one look and you could tell it was one hundred percent a prop for grandstanding—probably made of plastic and dyed with a metallic film to look real. Fine, he’d turned himself into Ultraman’s older brother, putting on a show like he was here to save the world.

As for that intimidating attack helicopter, it was currently right under his own fire. Wasn’t that just a sheep walking into a tiger’s den?

But then again, why hadn’t he thought of such a flashy look himself? If he had, maybe he would have won the beauty over long ago. Instead, he was stuck playing the toad trying to eat swan meat, forced to use strong-arm tactics. Looking at it that way, it really was an oversight!

He decided that in a moment, he would beat this grandstanding fellow so badly that even his own mother wouldn’t recognize him. Let’s see him try to act cool then.

If Zhou Yuanqiang knew what Xu Zihua was thinking, he would definitely scream “injustice.” He wasn’t grandstanding; the reason he used the Armor Art was entirely for the sake of his own life. Just think, the place was crawling with terrorists. If one of their guns accidentally went off, wouldn’t his joy turn to sorrow, and his tragedy turn into a total catastrophe?

Only Shui Mulian, hearing that familiar voice that she had been pining for, let her earlier worries fly to the back of her mind. She stared blankly at Zhou Yuanqiang as he walked over, carrying the giant sword on his shoulder.

Even though the Armor Art prevented her from seeing even a trace of Zhou Yuanqiang’s appearance, she could truly feel the man inside the armor, the one who always had that mischievous smirk. In just half a month, his image had been deeply carved into her mind, appearing in her dreams countless times. Whether it was so-called love or a desire for a secure person to lean on, Shui Mulian knew, undeniably, that he had taken root in her heart.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s arrival was actually a bit of a coincidence. After capturing G City and D City, the troops were temporarily resting in D City. The plan for the offensive against City S was still being formulated. Facing the most unique city on the mainland, he didn’t intend to deploy the Air Force, but rather to push forward with ground troops using a large number of crystal weapons.

Reflecting on everything he had experienced and thinking of the people on Shuimu Island, Zhou Yuanqiang decided to come over and take a look.

Relying on the capabilities of the super mothership, the AWACS that had taken off high above D City had already discovered the destroyer leaving port. After that, it was just a matter of heading in the destroyer’s direction. He hadn’t expected to find such an interesting scene below the moment he arrived.

To be honest, seeing the flag of the seven-colored umbrella still flying on the destroyer, Zhou Yuanqiang was quite moved. He hadn’t expected Shui Mulian to keep it hanging there the whole time. As for the oil well, its production data was clear; it was indeed a rich well. Given its proximity to City S, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t interested—at the very least, supplies wouldn’t need to be transported thousands of kilometers from Lenghu to get here.

Seeing Shui Mulian staring at him with a dazed expression, Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly lifted the sword with one hand, letting the reflected sunlight flash in her face. He chuckled, “What’s wrong? Are you captivated by my flashy looks? Hello? Back to reality. How have we not seen each other for a few months, and you’ve already turned into a lovestruck fan?”

Blinded by the reflected sunlight, Shui Mulian’s expression turned cold. “You call this flashy?” she snapped. “You look like a madman, or maybe an idiot.”

Zhou Yuanqiang struck a pose to show off his muscles. “What, I don’t look like a Transformer?”

The way he displayed his muscles was incredibly comical, looking neither here nor there. Shui Mulian couldn’t help but let out a “pfft” and burst into laughter, shaking her head vigorously. “Transformers have arms thicker than your whole body. You call yourself a Transformer?” She bit her lip and asked, “Why are you back?”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t think much of her biting her lip, but Xu Zihua, standing opposite her, felt as if his soul was being snatched away. When he saw this pair of “illicit lovers” flirting the moment they met, treating him as if he were transparent, and saw that the smile on such a lovely woman wasn’t for him, his rage began to seethe. He raised his handgun, fired a shot into the sky with a bang, and roared, “Shut up! This is my territory! You all listen to me!”

Zhou Yuanqiang gave Xu Zihua a confused look, shook his head, and said, “Lunatic. You think you’re the master of the world?”

Shui Mulian once again couldn’t help but giggle, for the first time showing a feminine side as she covered her mouth to sneak a laugh. In any case, as soon as Zhou Yuanqiang appeared, her empty heart became full. She didn’t want to worry about the situation here anymore; in her view, he would surely handle everything.

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang call him a lunatic, Xu Zihua nearly spat fire. He pointed his gun at Zhou Yuanqiang and cursed, “Kid, I haven’t settled the last debt with you yet. I was just thinking about finding you and cutting you into a thousand pieces. Now, look at you—walking right into the trap, intentionally seeking death.”

On the entire oil well, there were over a hundred armed men. Some partially surrounded the small pier, while others stood atop the oil well, looking down from a high vantage point.

If the people below made even the slightest move, they would absolutely be peppered with bullets. In Xu Zihua’s view, with only twenty or thirty people on the destroyer, they couldn’t possibly escape his grasp. Furthermore, the destroyer was pinned down by his torpedo boats. While two anti-ship missiles couldn’t destroy the oil well, two torpedoes would definitely be the end of the destroyer. One could say the situation here was firmly in his hands.

Feeling certain of victory, Xu Zihua made a clicking sound with his tongue and walked up to Zhou Yuanqiang. He circled him, sneering, “Kid, you’re quite the character. You really went all out to pick up girls, even putting together this mecha-looking thing. I just wonder how long you can keep up the charade.”

Zhou Yuanqiang narrowed his eyes and didn’t move, letting the man circle him. “This armor isn’t for picking up girls; it’s for saving my life.”

“Saving your life?”

Xu Zihua burst into laughter and suddenly pressed the gun against Zhou Yuanqiang’s head, shouting, “Save your damn life! Believe it or not, I could finish you with one shot right now and throw you in the sea to feed the fish?”

Nearby, Shui Mulian’s heart jumped in shock. She raged, “Xu Zihua, let him go! What kind of man are you, bullying people with your numbers?”

“Let him go?” Xu Zihua glanced at Shui Mulian, ignoring her, and instead stared at Zhou Yuanqiang. “Did you hear that? She wants me to let you go? Haha, what a joke. If it weren’t for you, I would have succeeded last time. Why would I have had to wait until now?” Looking nearly crazed, he pointed at the giant sword Zhou Yuanqiang was still holding. “Holding it like that, aren’t you tired?”

With Zhou Yuanqiang’s strength, he could have easily swatted the man with the giant sword or swung it to send this buzzing, mad fly tumbling far away. But he suddenly found this interesting and pretended to be exhausted. He murmured, “Oh, now that you mention it, I didn’t realize how much my arm was aching.”

A trace of mockery appeared in Xu Zihua’s eyes. “Carrying a toy sword and you have the nerve to say your arm hurts?”

But as soon as he finished speaking, the giant sword in Zhou Yuanqiang’s hand hit the iron plating of the pier with a clang. With the pressure Zhou Yuanqiang secretly exerted, the incredibly hard and sharp giant sword sliced into the iron plate as if it were cutting through tofu, plunging straight in with a thud.

Of the three-meter-long giant sword, less than a meter remained above the surface for Zhou Yuanqiang to hold onto.

Xu Zihua, who had just been making sarcastic remarks, saw this scene and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He looked as if someone had struck his pressure points. He tried to say something, but the sound he made was like a rooster with its throat slit.

It wasn’t just Xu Zihua; even Shui Mulian and her group had initially thought the giant sword was a toy. But looking at the sword plunged nearly two meters into the iron plate, and the slight indentations around the metal entry point with fresh cutting marks… how could this iron plate possibly be tofu?

Zhou Yuanqiang felt great inside. How could he pass up such an opportunity to grandstand? He let out a “haha” and said, “Sorry, my hand slipped.”

As he spoke, he went about pulling the sword back up, acting clumsy, tugging this way and that. Very quickly, a large portion of the iron plate was covered in cuts made by the giant sword. Under the sharp edge of the blade and his terrifying arm strength, he sliced through it at will, exactly like cutting tofu.

The people stood there like wooden chickens, staring foolishly at Zhou Yuanqiang as he ran amok on the small pier, cutting holes everywhere.

After a long while, Xu Zihua finally snapped out of it. With a gulp, he swallowed a mouthful of saliva. He twisted his stiff neck somewhat neurotically, and the handgun he was pointing at Zhou Yuanqiang shook because of his trembling. He roared, “This—this—this is impossible! How can the iron plate of this pier be cut so easily?”

Zhou Yuanqiang chuckled, swinging the three-meter-long giant sword as if it weighed nothing. “Didn’t you say my sword was a toy? Naturally, that means the iron plate of your pier must be made of tofu. Otherwise, how could I have cut it up so easily?”

Xu Zihua, still in shock, didn’t react quickly enough and blurted out a defense, “No! I personally led the men who welded this pier back then. How could it be made of tofu?”

Beside them, Shui Mulian and the others woke up from their shock. They looked at Zhou Yuanqiang as if he were a monster. They had no idea how all of this was done. Looking at that terrifyingly large giant sword, it seemed light as air in his hand, something he could swing around like a racket. Yet, this seemingly bluffing sword could slice through iron plates with ease.

If the iron plate was tofu, look at those metallic scars—who would dare say the pier wasn’t made of steel?

Seeing Xu Zihua looking like a fool, Shui Mulian led the way in laughing. Zhou Yuanqiang was like a big bad wolf, luring the little red riding hood that was Xu Zihua step by step. The whole script had been flipped; the wicked man became the victim, and the harmless-looking man was the thug.

“How—how did you do that?”

Shui Mulian’s soft voice no longer had its usual icy elegance. Instead, she sounded like a curious, well-behaved student.

Zhou Yuanqiang shrugged. “I cut it with this sword, of course. Didn’t you just see?” He nudged Xu Zihua with his hand, offering the giant sword to him. “I said it’s tofu, so it’s tofu. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you try?”

Considering the entire sword weighed over 50 kg, if the other guy was foolish enough to take it, the consequences…

Unfortunately, Xu Zihua jerked back as if he’d been electrocuted. He pointed his gun stubbornly at Zhou Yuanqiang and said, “I don’t care if your sword is a toy or if this pier is tofu. None of that matters! You think you can escape with just these few people? Let me tell you, today even if you grew wings, you wouldn’t fly out of the palm of my hand.”

He pointed triumphantly around the oil well and laughed loudly, “Do you have more people than us?”

Hearing Xu Zihua’s words, Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bit strange. He looked at Xu Zihua with a peculiar expression and asked seriously, “Are you sure you have more people than me?”

Xu Zihua glanced at the destroyer, which had only a few people on it, and the pier, which had barely a dozen—all of whom were under his control. Even the attack helicopter only had one pilot. With such a tiny group, this guy dared to speak to him in that tone?

“Brothers, stop what you’re doing and show your faces! Let this guy who thinks he’s Iron Man see exactly how many people we have!”

At his arrogant shout, heads suddenly popped up from all over the oil well. All of them were holding firearms, or perhaps iron bars and knives. In a moment, the walkways on every level were crowded. They let out laughs, looking at the people below with pitying eyes. “To try and outnumber the boss on his own turf—isn’t that just asking for trouble?”

Shui Mulian was, after all, a woman. Seeing Xu Zihua’s hundreds of men and thinking of what would happen if she fell into his hands—of being forced to submit to him—it would be a lie to say she wasn’t afraid.

Seeing Shui Mulian’s fearful expression and Xu Zihua’s arrogant, triumphant look, Zhou Yuanqiang felt quite satisfied.

This is going exactly according to the script. Even if I didn’t necessarily set out to ‘save the beauty and win her heart,’ leaving a good impression on a beautiful woman shouldn’t be a problem, right? Thinking of how surprised Xu Zihua and the others would be in a moment, Zhou Yuanqiang became increasingly mischievous.

He rubbed his chin and said, “You have more people than me? Tsk tsk. Fine, I’ll let you see what ‘more people’ really means.”

Zhou Yuanqiang connected to the channel for the super mothership’s command center. In a voice that could be heard by Xu Zihua, Shui Mulian, and the rest, he said, “Brothers, someone down here says he has more people than I do. Get moving. Let this frog in a well see who really has the numbers.”

In fact, the communications here hadn’t been turned off. Every action and word could be heard by the super mothership up in the clouds.

Now, hearing the boss’s command, weren’t the pilots all grinning mischievously? Talking about numbers, there were nearly three thousand people on the super mothership. Were they afraid of his “numbers”? These excited people loved a good prank, and every one of them ran toward their fighter jets.

And the massive super mothership began to slowly descend…

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s stubborn words, Xu Zihua’s face was full of disdain. In this vast ocean, there wasn’t even a ghost in sight. Where was he going to call people from? Even Shui Mulian began to worry, silently blaming Zhou Yuanqiang. He shouldn’t have come. He could have taken the helicopter and left as soon as he saw things were bad.

But just a few minutes later, as the super mothership descended and came closer and closer to the oil well, the sound produced by its massive engines reached the ears of everyone below.

This massive engine roar left the people below confused at first. They all wore bewildered expressions. Some searched the empty sea, but since the sea was indeed empty, they found nothing.

It wasn’t until the super mothership hovered at an altitude of 2,300 meters that the massive shadow it cast finally made people realize the sound was coming from the sky.

Anyone who looked up was, without exception, frozen in place. Their eyes were completely filled by the super mothership, and in their petrified state, they felt the soul-shaking impact of the vessel. They couldn’t imagine how such a massive aerial vehicle could exist in this world.

For a time, the entire oil well was silent. Except for the sound of waves hitting the structure, there wasn’t a single noise.

What entered Shui Mulian’s sight was the seven-colored umbrella on the super mothership. Only now did she finally realize what the “protection” Zhou Yuanqiang had spoken of really meant. It turned out… this flag truly represented an incomparably powerful strength, protecting everyone under its rule.

It wasn’t just the seven-colored umbrella; the massive super mothership itself, along with the six escorting military airships, was breathtaking. These things, completely beyond their comprehension, were like something out of science fiction or mythology, making it impossible for them to accept it all in such a short time.

When the super mothership was first completed, even those accustomed to airships found it hard to accept the existence of this behemoth. How much more so for them?

Regardless of what they were thinking, the hovering super mothership began launching fighter jets from its runways. They rose continuously from the wide decks. Each level of the deck had three runways, and each runway had two branch points. With two deck levels, twelve fighter jets could take off at once.

Thus, what the super mothership showed the people was like a beehive, as “bees” flew out from the hive and massed into formations… in moments, the entire sky turned black.

Dozens of attack helicopters hovered near the oil well, just ten meters above the sea. The missiles hanging from them flashed with an intimidating light, staring down the now-frozen people on the oil well like hungry tigers.

“Now then, who has more people?”

The man who was asked the question was already rolling his eyes. His strength failed him, and he collapsed onto the pier.

Chapter 353: Dance of Death

The subtropical environment was perfectly suited for plant growth. After seven years of being left to run wild, dense vegetation had sprung up like bamboo shoots after a spring rain. Wild grass, in particular, grew with abandon. Through the cycles of the seasons, the grass would wither in late autumn, only for even stronger, tender sprouts to push through the decaying leaves in early spring.

In the south, the weeds were incredibly lush, filling every available space that could support life. Abandoned farmlands were especially crowded with wild grass, each blade growing taller than the last, desperately jostling for space to soak up the sunlight. Many roads were riddled with cracks, and these fissures were similarly choked with weeds.

Three armored troop carriers crawled along this weed-choked highway. The tall, flanking grass provided a constant sense of unease. Trees on both sides of the road cast rustling, dappled shadows across the pavement under the bright sun as the wind blew through them.

A mournful siren wailed from the lead armored troop carrier, sounding incredibly harsh and jarring in the silence of the highway.

From a long distance away, several wandering zombies heard the mournful alarm. Without hesitation, they scrambled through the tall grass, chasing the source of the sound. Driven by their sensitive hearing and lured by the piercing noise, they rushed toward the sound as if they had discovered prey.

From an aerial perspective, one could see these scattered zombies being drawn in by the sound, continuously converging toward the three armored troop carriers.

Standing atop the lead armored troop carrier, Chen Xingyu, the commander of the entire team, scanned the surroundings with binoculars to monitor the situation. The grass was thick and tall; often, he could only judge the direction and number of approaching zombies by the violent swaying of the wild vegetation.

The roofs of the two trailing armored troop carriers had been specially modified to accommodate six soldiers each for combat.

“Accelerate and stop at the clearing ahead.”

Following Chen Xingyu’s command, the three armored troop carriers suddenly increased their speed. A few minutes later, they arrived at a stretch of highway running through the center of an expanse of abandoned farmland.

The doors of the troop carriers swung open, and the soldiers jumped out quickly, forming a defensive perimeter. They set up their machine guns, and several recoilless cannons were rapidly assembled. Within moments, the entire unit was in combat readiness.

Under the lure of the mournful siren, the wait didn’t last long. One by one, the attracted zombies began to appear in the soldiers’ sight. Most were scattered—sometimes just one, other times a group of six or seven—almost all of them stragglers from the surrounding villages.

Chen Xingyu felt no interest in this kind of unchallenging combat.

His unit was a reinforced platoon consisting of fifty-three men. Equipped with three light machine guns, two heavy machine guns, and four recoilless cannons, they were undeniably well-armed and possessed formidable firepower. Furthermore, the soldiers on the roofs were all trained snipers; using Type 81 automatic rifles fitted with scopes, they could easily pick off encroaching zombies from five hundred to six hundred meters away.

Since capturing the Southern Military Region, the capital of G Province, and sweeping through City D, the entire Southern Front Army had undergone a massive transformation.

Most of the troops had been split up into platoon-level units to begin mopping up the remaining zombies. The Southern Front Army had primarily focused on cities and the county seats; remote towns and villages were not their primary objectives given the grand scale of the war.

However, as the southern campaign drew to a close, these smaller towns and villages naturally came to the attention of the command center.

The number of zombies in these villages ranged from a few hundred to several thousand. For the remote towns in G Province, the population usually scaled to tens of thousands. Furthermore, scattered zombies roamed the mountains, fields, and roadsides. Though they seemed like a minor threat, they were like a stubborn case of psoriasis—persistent and requiring thorough treatment.

In the Commercial Association’s plans, no zombies were allowed to exist within occupied territories. This was for the personal safety of the residents. The Commercial Association prohibited ordinary citizens from owning firearms, but without weapons, how could they defend themselves if they encountered a group of zombies while traveling? People who were attacked and not eaten would become new zombies, which was the last thing the Commercial Association wanted to see.

Therefore, during the reorganization period before the operation against City S, since there was no need for all one hundred thousand soldiers to enter City S at once, the army was split up. Units were assigned specific roads as their mission zones and dispatched in large numbers, using sound to attract and annihilate zombies.

They moved at a snail’s pace along the way. Every few kilometers, they would often attract hundreds or thousands of zombies, followed by a one-sided battle. After the zombies were eliminated, they would dig out the crystals, bury the corpses in pits, and continue forward… repeating the cycle.

If they ran out of ammunition, they would call the Logistics Department. Either an attack helicopter or a transport airship would arrive to deliver supplies and ammo.

“Has the battle to reclaim City S begun yet?”

Watching the zombies appearing in the distance, Chen Xingyu muttered to himself. He thought of that city with its population of fifteen million. How much would it cost to reclaim it, and how many days would it take? Chen Xingyu had heard about City S until his ears grew calloused, yet he had never visited it. He had originally hoped to finally experience its charm, but being dispatched here left him feeling a bit dejected.

While the zombies were still some distance away and their numbers weren’t high, the soldier kneeling beside Chen Xingyu, Zhang Jialin, whispered while looking through his rifle’s sights, “Chief, why do we have to come to this godforsaken place? In my opinion, if we just guard the big cities, these scattered zombies here won’t be able to stir up any trouble.”

Chen Xingyu wasn’t worried about the upcoming fight. He replied, “You don’t understand. Do you think we’re here to kill these zombies because we’re afraid they’ll threaten the cities later?”

Zhang Jialin scratched his head while holding his rifle. “Isn’t that it? There are just so many people in G Province. When we took the capital, I’d never seen such a dense concentration of zombies. They filled the streets as far as the eye could see. The Air Force guys said every single street below was black with zombies.”

“Let me ask you a question.”

Chen Xingyu confirmed the distance of the zombies again and said, “If we don’t wipe out the zombies here, would you dare drive a car on this highway in the future?”

“Of course not. Who knows if you’d run into a high-level zombie, a Special Infected, or a whole pack of them?” Zhang Jialin said. “G Province has the highest combined permanent and floating population in the country. Look at these small towns; they’re more developed than some second or third-tier cities. Who knows how many zombies wandered off to where?”

Chen Xingyu smiled and said, “Exactly. The Commercial Association is putting in all this effort to wipe out the stragglers so that the residents can travel safely in the future.”

Zhang Jialin wasn’t stupid. In a flash of realization, he exclaimed, “Chief, does that mean the Commercial Association is going to move the capital here? How… how do you know?”

“I’m guessing!”

Chen Xingyu patted Zhang Jialin’s shoulder. “Qingyuan City is fine, I suppose, but the weather is either unbearably hot or freezing cold. Look here, situated in the southern subtropics, the weather is pleasant. Living here, you don’t have to worry about extreme temperatures or endless dust storms. By comparison, what reason is there to stay in the Wildlands?”

“But the Eastern Front Army is pushing all the way to Shanghai. Wouldn’t an international financial hub like Shanghai be more suitable?”

Chen Xingyu’s smile became more mysterious as he whispered, “Haven’t you heard? The Chairman is a Southerner!”

Before Zhang Jialin could figure out the connection between the Chairman being a Southerner and settling in G Province, he immediately entered combat status at Chen Xingyu’s command. During their conversation, the first wave of zombies had arrived, numbering only a few hundred, rushing toward the three armored troop carriers in a staggered formation.

“Execute sniper protocol!”

After issuing the command, Chen Xingyu picked up a Type 81 automatic rifle. With the added scope, it could be used as a light sniper rifle.

Actually, the troops had already begun switching to newer rifles, but Chen Xingyu preferred the Type 81. The reason? It felt right in his hands, and he was used to it. He could never get used to the Type 03 and its ilk; perhaps the recoil was different, but it made him feel like he was losing his edge.

The sniper protocol primarily relied on the eighteen soldiers atop the three armored troop carriers to perform long-range precision shots.

In these types of villages, there weren’t many zombies to begin with, and the mournful siren could only attract a limited number. Based on Chen Xingyu’s experience over the past few days, he estimated the numbers to be around a thousand. For a reinforced platoon with such fierce firepower, the battle would be over in about ten minutes.

The combat unfolded exactly as Chen Xingyu had predicted. The eighteen snipers alone completely wiped out the first wave of several hundred zombies. When the second wave arrived shortly after, its numbers were no greater than the first. After letting them get closer, the soldiers fired five or six volleys, and the tall grass suddenly went quiet.

The soldiers responsible for harvesting crystals went out under the cover of their comrades. They expertly dug out the crystals, washed them clean, and the convoy continued its journey.

After repeating this process several times over two days and receiving a resupply, the convoy finally reached the town marked in their mission.

The siren that had been wailing was turned off long ago. The convoy specifically detoured to a mountain peak not far from the town. Given the economic prosperity of G Province, the scale of the town was larger than some third-tier cities. Even the mountain where the convoy sat had been turned into a park-like area, with a paved road leading from the foot all the way to the summit.

With binoculars, they could clearly see the entire layout of the town from the mountain top.

“Chief, there have to be tens of thousands of them down there. How can we possibly complete the mission?”

Zhang Jialin wasn’t the only one asking; the other members were also wearing grim expressions. Even if they used a grinding tactic, how many days would it take to eliminate tens of thousands of zombies in this town? Moreover, among such a large number, there would surely be high-level zombies and Special Infected. Their fifty-odd men wouldn’t even be enough to fill the gaps between their teeth.

Chen Xingyu only smiled without answering. He pulled out a map of the town, performed some quick calculations, and marked three red dots on the map. He then gathered all the soldiers and pointed to the marks. “Everyone, do you see the positions of these red dots? Our mission focus is on these three spots.”

Everyone was baffled. Chen Xingyu continued, “When we set out, didn’t you ask what was in those crates in the back? I’ll tell you: those are guidance markers. Our mission is to reach these three red dots, deploy and activate the markers, and then evacuate the town.”

Though the soldiers didn’t understand exactly what the guidance markers did, seeing Chen Xingyu’s mysterious expression, they assumed the key to wiping out the zombies lay with these devices.

The three red dots were positioned to cover the entire town. Each of the three armored troop carriers was responsible for one dot. Once the tasks were assigned, Chen Xingyu waved his hand, and the three armored troop carriers began their descent from the mountain peak.

“We need to use the momentum of the carriers to drop the markers and evacuate. Under no circumstances are you to get bogged down in a fight.”

At the entrance to the town, the three armored troop carriers split up, charging down three different streets.

The entire town was like an untouched virgin territory. No survivors had been there to disturb things, so the zombies were very scattered. They weren’t packed tightly into the streets as they would be in a big city, where a breakthrough would have been impossible. It was precisely this loose distribution that gave Chen Xingyu and his men an opening.

As soon as the three armored troop carriers appeared, the zombies reacted and surged toward the vehicles.

Chen Xingyu raised his rifle, aimed at one Level 3 zombie, and fired. With a pop, he hit it in the head, and it collapsed onto the street. The zombies behind it didn’t hesitate to trample over its body, claws and teeth bared as they continued their pursuit.

“Direct fire on high-level zombies! Watch for Special Infected!”

The armored troop carriers practically tore through the streets. Any zombies in their path were either headshot or knocked down and run over.

Through the open doors, mounted machine guns sprayed the chasing zombies with continuous fire, mowing them down in swathes. Though many were only knocked down and tried to crawl back up, the process of them falling and struggling to rise slowed the pursuit, preventing the horde from posing a real threat to the troop carriers.

When the town was originally planned, its main arteries were made very wide. Chen Xingyu had intentionally chosen these wide roads, so the breakthrough wasn’t particularly difficult.

Soon, the troop carriers reached the marked red dots. The soldiers worked with frantic speed, activated the guidance markers, and pushed them out of the vehicles. Following Chen Xingyu’s order to drive straight through the town, they quickly evacuated.

Once activated, the deployed guidance markers began to emit a rhythmic beep-beep sound, as if guiding something in.

Back at a forward airfield, the command center received the signals from the guidance markers and transmitted the data to the relevant department. Only a few minutes later, an HY-3 fighter jet taxied down the runway, took off into the sky, and flew toward the coordinates of the town.

A distance of some two hundred to three hundred kilometers took the HY-3 fighter jet only about ten minutes to cover.

It took twenty minutes for the armored troop carriers led by Chen Xingyu to finally clear the town. Knowing what the guidance markers were for, he didn’t stop elsewhere but hurried away from the town and climbed back up to their previous observation point on the mountain. Shortly after, the other two armored troop carriers returned safely.

Soon, the HY-3 fighter jet appeared high above the town. From its belly, three missiles carrying special warheads were released one after another, plummeting toward the town below.

The three missiles, which had already been programmed with the guidance marker data, flew toward their respective targets. Once they were above the markers, the special warheads separated—they were perfectly round, spherical canisters. Upon separation, they fell straight toward the positions of the markers.

Zzzzt… zzzzt-zzzzt…

The sound of high-voltage electricity vibrated from the spherical warheads. Soon, like countless released ghosts, streaks of purple electrical arcs darted out in all directions. As these arcs passed through streets and houses, every zombie they touched naturally charred and collapsed.

Building after building was struck by the ultra-high voltage arcs. Walls were scorched, and chunks of concrete were blasted away.

Standing on the mountain peak, every soldier watched the town below, struck dumb with awe.

The entire town seemed to light up as if a quadrillion lights had been turned on at once. The purple electrical arcs, like swimming dragons, brought only death. Wherever they went, not a single zombie could withstand even half a second before being electrocuted and desiccated, every drop of moisture drained from their bodies. The three special warheads released a deluge of arcs that covered the entire town, discharging wildly.

This beautiful “dance of death” lasted only a few seconds before disappearing, but it left the entire town systematically purged.

Although Chen Xingyu had known about the power of these ultra-compressed warheads, he was still stunned by the scene. Those few seconds of footage were soul-shaking. He had every reason to believe that this strategic weapon, which had only recently been successfully tested and deployed, would be the most terrifying weapon of the future.

As the superiors had said, its destructive power was such that it would fry any machine or electronic device, meaning it couldn’t be used in major metropolises. However, it could be used on small towns because the Commercial Association had no need for the electronics and appliances there. For things they didn’t need, there was no reason to worry about their destruction.

“Now you should understand why they only sent one of our platoons to deal with a town of tens of thousands,” Chen Xingyu said. “After a discharge like that, how many zombies do you think are actually left for us?”

Chapter 354: Waiting

“The weather is really nice today!”

“Yeah. It probably won’t rain.”

“…”

Hearing Yan Yuhe’s nonsensical small talk, Zhou Yuanqiang was utterly speechless. After a moment of silence, he looked up with a wry smile at the sun hanging high in the sky. As they walked along the familiar street, he thought for a long while before finally squeezing out a reply: “It might rain, though!”

Yan Yuhe was stunned for a moment, then gave him a sharp glare. She pointed at the street trees covered in thick green leaves, their budding flowers swaying in the breeze. “Since the time you first brought me here, throughout this entire past year, whenever I missed you, I would come here for a walk. Because you said this was your favorite place.”

Zhou Yuanqiang sighed. Everything on the street remained unchanged; the trees were still the same trees, but was the person still the same?

He checked his watch. It was exactly ten o’clock. At this very moment, the battle to reclaim City S in the apocalypse had already begun. He was slightly dazed; even though he wasn’t in the post-apocalyptic world, his heart felt as if it could sense the rumbling departure of the tanks, the columns of soldiers marching forward, the Crystal Warriors charging wildly, and the snipers moving like ghosts.

Thinking of this, Zhou Yuanqiang unconsciously asked, “Do you hear the rumbling sound of tanks rolling by?” After saying it, he realized he was in the modern world and scratched his head, letting out a silly, awkward laugh.

Yan Yuhe asked instinctively, “What rumbling sound of tanks?”

Zhou Yuanqiang rubbed his nose and said, “It’s nothing, I just remembered a game I played yesterday.”

Perhaps everything in the apocalypse was like a game. The final battle for the Southern Front Army was City S; once it was over, the entire southern campaign would reach a perfect conclusion. However, the assault on City S didn’t require much from Zhou Yuanqiang as the Chairman; it was being personally directed by Mu Gushan, the Commander-in-Chief of the Army.

Meanwhile, the Eastern Front Army was also sweeping away all resistance, pushing all the way toward Shanghai. It was estimated they would arrive within a week.

The main reason he had returned to the modern City S was because of Yan Yuhe. She had resigned from her position as General Manager of MC Design Company and was preparing to return to Shanghai. She was set to become the president of a real estate company under her father’s banner, making the final push for the company’s public listing.

Her father’s intention was clear: use a company already prepared for an IPO to establish his daughter’s authority, preparing her to eventually take over the entire Yan Corporation. In other words, he was using this mature company to pave the way for Yan Yuhe, reducing the pressure she would face when she took over later. This was a common method used by wealthy families to intimidate company veterans and facilitate future management.

To be fair, Yan Yuhe’s abilities were truly impressive. In just one year, MC Design Company had established a firm foothold in City S and become a premier cutting-edge design firm. While this certainly involved the excellent talents from the Commercial Association, was it not also a testament to her own talent?

“Have you really decided to go back?”

Calculating the time, there was actually only one month left of the time her father had originally given him. In a flash, time had quietly slipped away. Another year had passed in the blink of an eye. Looking back on this year, his progress in the apocalypse had been meteoric, but what about the modern world? It seemingly appeared stagnant.

The Somali Steel Park was a closed environment. Its true development and internal state were strictly confidential; not even the Yan family—let alone foreign intelligence agents—could uncover the real secrets within the Steel Park. Therefore, in Yan Shangyang’s eyes, he was undoubtedly a failure.

For magnates like them, love? It was just a fleeting, unsubstantial feeling.

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s words, Yan Yuhe nodded. “The resignation letter has already been submitted. Do you still think I haven’t made up my mind?” She smiled softly. “Your information is quite well-informed. I only just handed in my resignation, and you received the news and rushed back.”

Zhou Yuanqiang rolled his eyes. He was the boss behind the scenes, the big Boss of the parent company of MC Design. How could he not know?

Zhou Yuanqiang casually plucked a green leaf and toyed with it in his hand. “Are you very disappointed?”

Yan Yuhe suddenly stopped and looked at Zhou Yuanqiang. Tears were actually welling up in her eyes, but she forced a relaxed tone as she spoke. “Disappointed? No, I should say that both my father and I had expectations that were too high. This isn’t your fault. Who could possibly build something from nothing and enter the top-tier business circles in just one year? You… have already done very well.”

Zhou Yuanqiang merely smiled and flicked the green leaf, letting it flutter down to the street.

“Is that all you have to say?” Yan Yuhe’s voice suddenly rose. “Do you really not care about me? Do you even know how much time we’ve spent together this year? Have you counted? Combined, it’s less than ten hours. Less than ten hours!” She finally lost control, disregarding her ladylike persona, and shouted, “Less than ten hours in a year! Are we even lovers? Answer me! Answer me!”

People on the street looked at the couple who had suddenly broken into an argument, shaking their heads and pointing fingers.

Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bitterness in his mouth. He understood that over the past year, he had hardly ever returned to City S. Even on the few occasions he did, he was in a rush and sometimes didn’t even meet Yan Yuhe. For a couple, this was absolutely fatal.

He understood that for a wealthy young lady like her to wait until now was already incredibly rare. If she hadn’t held onto an absolute expectation of him, why would she essentially live like a widow? Why would she wait for a guy like him who might not even return once a year? Externally, he wasn’t as handsome as those young playboys; regarding wealth and power, he was strong in the shadows, but on the surface, he couldn’t even compare to a single finger of theirs. Was she really unable to live without him?

Certainly not. This only proved that she cherished this relationship and couldn’t bear to let it vanish into smoke.

“I admit, this is all my fault. I know that everything I’ve done has deeply hurt you. If you still believe in me, please give me one more month. I will prove to you that your waiting has been worth it.”

Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly pulled Yan Yuhe into a tight embrace and whispered, “Trust me, just as you chose me in the beginning.”

Yan Yuhe wept softly in Zhou Yuanqiang’s arms. The grievances of the past year and the lack of understanding from her family and friends had made her life difficult. After waiting painfully for a year, what had she gained? She didn’t know if she should still believe him. “How can I believe you? Did you really not even have a single day to spare in an entire year?”

Hearing her tone soften, Zhou Yuanqiang gently tapped her nose. “Do you know why I didn’t even have a day? Wasn’t it all for a little fool like you?”

“Actually, you should know that even if you didn’t achieve enough, I wouldn’t leave you easily,” Yan Yuhe said with some determination. “Do you know why I didn’t go to the parent company headquarters but chose the real estate company instead? It’s because I thought that only by doing this could I better support your steel business in Somalia.”

Zhou Yuanqiang opened his mouth and said exaggeratedly, “So you’ve really got your heart set on me then?”

Yan Yuhe laughed through her tears. She lightly beat Zhou Yuanqiang’s chest and said, “What do you mean ‘heart set on you’? That sounds terrible. Since you told me to trust you, I’ll trust you one more time. But for my birthday next month, how do you plan to get past my father?”

Zhou Yuanqiang wore a confident smile. “I haven’t thought of it yet. Maybe your father will suddenly realize I’m a man of great potential and agree to marry his daughter to me?”

Yan Yuhe burst out laughing. “In your dreams! To be honest, my father secretly estimated your assets, and they don’t even total ten million dollars. Marrying his daughter will be no small challenge.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Could I not just board the bus first and buy the ticket later?”

Yan Yuhe’s eyes widened. “Do you even have the chance to do that?” She laughed and, just like before, skipped ahead of him.

“Little temptress!” Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head but quickly caught up.

A few days later, Yan Yuhe departed by plane. For all the affairs of MC Design Company, the vice president had to be promoted to General Manager. Originally, Zhou Yuanqiang had thought about selling MC Design, but then he thought that even a mosquito’s leg is meat, so he kept it.

In fact, as the Commercial Association took control of half the continent, the number of talents would increase, and various departments would become relatively more relaxed. It would be perfect to use their spare time to squeeze out their surplus value. As a businessman, he couldn’t let talent go to waste. Maximizing profit was what he needed.

As for Yuanqiang Trading Company, the great contributor that had done so much for the development of the Commercial Association in the apocalypse, it had practically reached its time for retirement.

However, through Li Yihan’s efforts, the “Locust Company” nickname still allowed the trading company to hold a place in City S. Even without orders from the Commercial Association, it still ran well with a monthly profit of around two million. Zhou Yuanqiang saw no reason to let it retire.

After seeing Yan Yuhe off, City S in the apocalypse was reclaimed. The entire southern campaign ended, and the main forces of the Commercial Association shifted to the Eastern Front Army.

But this didn’t have much to do with Zhou Yuanqiang, as he had completely handed over command to his subordinates. After Yan Yuhe left, Zhou Yuanqiang decided to spend some quality time with his parents. As Yan Yuhe had complained, he only spent a few days a year in City S, and the time he spent with them was extremely limited. He truly needed to make up for it.

After living in the city for a year and a half, it was hard to see any trace of rural life in Zhou Anpu and Su Lan. If not for their Mandarin still carrying local accents, no one would be able to tell.

Thinking that he wouldn’t be able to stay in the country for long, and seeing that Zhou Anpu and Su Lan were bored with their idle lives of just growing vegetables, he couldn’t just let them live like they were in prison. So, after some thought, Zhou Yuanqiang had a talk with his parents and gave them a sum of money to support them in starting a business in their old age.

With their son’s support, Zhou Anpu and Su Lan were naturally very happy. For them, whether the business succeeded wasn’t important; what mattered was having something proper to do. They weren’t looking to build a massive empire; having small tasks to keep them busy so they weren’t stuck in the villa all day was enough. Whether they made money was secondary.

As for his only little sister, Zhou Yuanqiang left the choice to her as well.

He had originally thought Zhou Xiaojing would choose to start a business, but she surprisingly chose to work at an electronics company as a front-desk receptionist. This truly left Zhou Yuanqiang caught between laughter and tears. Her brother was a super-rich man with over two billion dollars, yet his little sister was working as a receptionist at a mid-sized electronics company?

With Zhou Yuanqiang’s capabilities, he could easily have Zhou Xiaojing work at a large corporation, but he respected her choice. At his level, the key was happiness, not a meager salary.

Thinking about it carefully, Zhou Xiaojing’s education only went up to middle school. Being able to secure a receptionist job was largely thanks to her looks. Otherwise, in today’s society where college graduates are everywhere, even a receptionist job requires a high school or associate degree. For a middle schooler with no experience, finding employment was indeed fraught with difficulties.

With his family settled and everyone occupied with their own affairs, Zhou Yuanqiang felt relieved and boarded a flight to Shanghai.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s clothing wasn’t particularly sophisticated, just a standard set worth a few hundred yuan. People at his level had long since moved past the psychological need to flaunt wealth. Looking at the dozen or so passengers in first-class, they were mostly portly men in flashy clothes with several large rings on their fingers. More importantly, they were accompanied by glamorous secretaries who acted like little birds nestled against them, letting out occasional giggles.

Seeing this scene, Zhou Yuanqiang could only shake his head with a wry smile.

Actually, the psychological motivation of the nouveau riche wasn’t inherently bad; they simply felt they had suffered too much in the past and wanted to compensate for it now that they had money. However, their dress and mannerisms were all imitations of the upper class, lacking the quiet authority that comes with time. Naturally, they looked like “neither fish nor fowl,” making it obvious to everyone that they were just upstarts.

Of course, this didn’t rule out those who enjoyed flaunting wealth; their wealth came too quickly, so they naturally didn’t cherish it.

Sometimes Zhou Yuanqiang wondered why protagonists in novels always encountered so many melodramatic clichés when they took a plane. On reflection, such things probably happened because the protagonists were too arrogant or flashy. Like now, he was sitting quietly, reading newspapers and magazines, or ordering some water and taking a nap in his reclining seat. Would anyone really rush over and pick a fight with him?

Therefore, many things in novels didn’t correspond to reality; they were often just people making fun of things they hadn’t experienced.

Zhou Yuanqiang had chosen an afternoon flight. When he arrived at Shanghai International Airport, the city lights were just beginning to shine. He had chosen this time specifically to admire the night view of Shanghai from the air and feel the charm of this international metropolis.

On another level, Zhou Yuanqiang was considering the matter of moving the Commercial Association’s headquarters.

Just as the outside world suspected, the Commercial Association did indeed have intentions to move the capital, and several meetings had already been held on the subject. The development of Qingyuan City had reached a bottleneck, and making further progress was extremely difficult. This wasn’t due to human or industrial factors, but rather geographic ones.

There were two main voices within the Commercial Association: one favored the capital of G Province and City S, while the other favored the financial center of Shanghai.

The reason for choosing G Province was simple: it possessed all the military facilities left behind by the Southern Military Region, which would save the Commercial Association significant construction costs. Furthermore, G Province was highly developed, with its capital and City S being among the most prosperous cities on the continent, only slightly behind the century-old financial center of Shanghai.

The reason for choosing Shanghai was even simpler: its absolute prosperity made it the pinnacle of the entire continent.

Ultimately, as per custom, the decision was left to Zhou Yuanqiang; he would make the final call on the new capital’s location. Consequently, Zhou Yuanqiang had been agonizing over this problem, as both sides had their own merits. Because of this, he had decided to come to Shanghai to inspect it and determine which city would become the future political center.

Of course, inspection was only one goal. In half a month, it would be Yan Yuhe’s birthday. He had to do something.

Coming half a month early was mostly about passing Yan Shangyang’s test and giving Yan Yuhe a surprise. All of this was perhaps to ensure her year of painful waiting had a result. Thinking about it, he was already twenty-seven. The repeated phone calls from his parents made their intentions quite clear.

Zhou Yuanqiang often wondered: which one was the real him, the one in the modern world or the one in the apocalypse?

After thinking calmly for a long, long time, he finally concluded that he still belonged to the modern world. While his career was undoubtedly in the apocalypse, he had come from the modern world; he had been born and raised there. It was like working abroad; one’s roots always remained in one’s homeland.

the apocalypse was just a career, a job. The modern world was his home.

As the Commercial Association took control over half the continent, Zhou Yuanqiang realized he needed to plan for his future in the modern world, as that was where his roots lay.

For various reasons, Zhou Yuanqiang understood that once the Commercial Association stabilized, his temporary focus would return to the modern world. Meanwhile, Somalia, acting as one of his springboards, would undergo a storm. Thinking about how both al-Shabaab and the Transitional Government were restless, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled. Did they all think the Steel Park was a ripe peach ready for the picking?

“I hope their hands are a bit tougher than the guns and cannons in my possession.”

Taking one last look at the night view of Shanghai outside, Zhou Yuanqiang murmured a sentence. At the flight attendant’s reminder, he fastened his seatbelt and watched as the airliner steadily descended.

Chapter 355: Flash Acquisition

Shanghai as the lights first come on. If viewing the night scene from the sky is like gazing at the stars in the Milky Way, then down on the streets, one is immersed in a world of lights.

Zhou Yuanqiang arrived in Shanghai without notifying Yan Yuhe, nor did he contact the trust-fund brats he had met a year ago but hadn’t spoken to once on the phone since. Thinking back, those acquaintances were merely a matter of politeness. In their minds, a person like him had likely been forgotten long ago. Their brains were filled with luxury cars, beautiful girls, and the high-society activities they deemed important.

Since Yan Yuhe had recently taken over the real estate company and was preparing for its listing on the stock market, he could easily imagine how busy she was. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t have the heart to disturb her; a surprise, after all, wouldn’t be a surprise if she knew about it.

The world is always so realistic, especially a place as high-efficiency as Shanghai.

As long as you have money, the countless companies in Shanghai, as numerous as the stars, will all serve you. Even if you wanted to go to the moon, a crowd of companies would come rushing at you with business cards, frantically pitching their services. They worked so hard for nothing more than to secure a contract and a fat commission. As for what you planned to do on the moon? They weren’t the least bit interested.

Money can make the devil turn the millstone, a proverb demonstrated to the fullest in this pragmatic city.

For someone like Zhou Yuanqiang, whose physical constitution had reached a monstrous level, a two or three-hour flight was practically child’s play. After strolling through the streets for a while and soaking in the bustling atmosphere of this financial hub, Zhou Yuanqiang found a three-star hotel, booked a suite, and took a hot bath. Only then did he take out his phone and dial a number.

The call went through quickly, and an extremely respectful voice came through: “Hello, Boss Zhou!”

Zhou Yuanqiang took a small sip of fruit juice and said calmly, “Manager Huang, you’re too polite. How is the matter I commissioned your company to handle progressing?”

On the other end of the line was a somewhat portly middle-aged man. Even though Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t see him, the man’s face was plastered with a smile as he said, “Boss Zhou, please rest assured. From the moment we received your commission, our entire company has been working overtime. We have finally completed all the groundwork. Now, we are just waiting for your nod and signature.”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “Very well. I have already arrived in Shanghai. Arrange a time with the other party.” At this, he sighed and added, “Manager Huang, your business is doing well. In just half a month, you’ve made quite a profit.”

Manager Huang on the other end became panicky and said with a fawning laugh, “Boss Zhou, you must be joking. It’s all thanks to your favor in choosing our company. Once the acquisition is successful, I hope Boss Zhou will do me the honor of having a simple meal so I can express my gratitude for your trust in our company and myself.”

“Haha, no need for dinner. Just get your work done as quickly as possible.”

Even after Zhou Yuanqiang hung up, Manager Huang remained posture of deep respect. This annoyed his secretary, who had been helping Manager Huang with some “downward communication” nearby. She spat out the softened object in her mouth and said in a voice cloyingly sweet, “My dear Manager, who was that? Why did they call at this time? It’s so annoying.”

Manager Huang snorted and said, “What do you know? That man is our God of Wealth. A single hair from his body is heavier than our entire lives.”

Thinking of how his fire had been interrupted by the phone call, he didn’t dare vent his anger on Zhou Yuanqiang. Instead, he roughly pushed the secretary’s head back down and said, “Do your job. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re after. You just want his contact information. Let me tell you, the people at the top level in Shanghai wouldn’t even look at someone like you.” As he spoke, he roughly stuffed the softened object back into the secretary’s mouth.

A series of muffled sounds soon filled the office.

Three years later, in a quiet garden-style hotel, Manager Huang led Zhou Yuanqiang to meet a refined middle-aged man. When the man saw Zhou Yuanqiang, he was very surprised. He stood up, extended his hand, and said, “I truly did not expect Mr. Zhou to be so young. It is quite beyond my expectations.”

Zhou Yuanqiang simply smiled. After shaking hands, he said, “Mr. Chen, you’re joking. Everyone knows that at the age of twenty-five, you took over your father’s business and led it to even greater heights with a growth rate exceeding 50%. You were hailed as a rising star of the commercial world back then. By comparison, I am twenty-seven now and have only achieved this much. I am far behind what you were back then.”

Chen Chaohao shook hands with Manager Huang before inviting Zhou Yuanqiang and the others to sit. He sighed with emotion. “Back then, I merely took over my father’s industry. It had a solid foundation, and it was during an economic boom, so it was naturally much easier.” He sighed again. “And now, I find myself having to rely on selling those assets to get through my current difficulties.”

Manager Huang piled on the smiles. If it weren’t for Zhou Yuanqiang, a small figure like him would never have caught Chen Chaohao’s eye. He was, of course, very familiar with this Shanghai tycoon. He said, “Mr. Chen, you’re joking. Who doesn’t know your talent for turning clouds into rain?”

Chen Chaohao glanced at Manager Huang. There was no disdain in his eyes, showing the depth of his character.

In truth, the investment holding company in Chen Chaohao’s hands was a prehistoric giant. What Zhou Yuanqiang was interested in were the companies it controlled across various industries, ranging from hotels and pharmaceuticals to machinery manufacturing and real estate. The number of companies it controlled or held shares in reached a staggering thirty-six.

This investment holding company, valued at $4.1 billion, was a heavyweight in Chen Chaohao’s portfolio. If his family’s original business hadn’t fallen into a quagmire, he likely wouldn’t have put this company up for sale. One had to realize that this company’s prospects were vast, and its earning potential was even higher than his family’s original business.

Chen Chaohao, who started in shipbuilding, was a man who combined tradition with expansion. Tradition meant sticking to the shipbuilding business inherited from his ancestors, while expansion was represented by the investment holding company.

Now that the family business was in trouble, he had resolutely decided to sell the investment holding company to revitalize the shipbuilding company. To be honest, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t quite understand it. Shipbuilding faced immense competitive pressure from both domestic and international rivals, which constantly squeezed profits. So why did Chen Chaohao stubbornly choose shipbuilding?

Perhaps sensing Zhou Yuanqiang’s thoughts, Chen Chaohao was quite open. “I took over the shipbuilding company from my father’s hands. It was his trust in me. At the time, I used the profits from the shipbuilding company to establish the investment holding company. Now that the shipbuilding company is in trouble, it is only natural for the holding company to provide support. Do you find my approach strange?”

“A little. I think given the current shrinkage in the international shipbuilding industry, it’s strange to give up the investment holding company.”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s honest answer made Chen Chaohao nod. He said, “Capital is one factor, but focus is another. With the investment holding company’s capabilities and value, I could certainly get a bank loan. But I ultimately chose to sell it to focus my heart and soul on shipbuilding. My father said that only by being refined and strong can one become big. The decline of the shipbuilding company is precisely because I was distracted by other things. I have a responsibility to keep the shipbuilding company my father fought for his whole life going.”

Both sides were accompanied by lawyers. After confirming there were no issues with the transfer documents, both parties signed their names.

Within three days, as long as Zhou Yuanqiang transferred $3.5 billion into Chen Chaohao’s account, Haili Investment Holding Company would belong to Zhou Yuanqiang. The best thing about such family-owned enterprises was that they usually held 100% of the shares. Unlike acquiring a listed company, there was no need to deal with individual shareholders one by one, which saved a lot of time and avoided people who would demand exorbitant prices.

A company valued at $4.1 billion being sold for $3.5 billion was a great deal for Zhou Yuanqiang. For Chen Chaohao, it provided the funds to revitalize his shipbuilding company. With an injection of $3.5 billion, becoming the number one shipbuilding company in Asia would not be difficult.

Thirty-five billion dollars is an astronomical sum for anyone. Even Zhou Yuanqiang had to scrape together every resource he had to finally squeeze out $3.5 billion.

There was no doubt that after acquiring Haili Investment Holding Company, Zhou Yuanqiang was once again a pauper. The gold, diamonds, and antiques in his storage ring had been entirely converted into crisp green bills. This also included the payments from Warner Bros and the cash he had plundered from various banks that hadn’t been spent yet.

After adding everything up, the cash Zhou Yuanqiang could produce now was a piteous few hundred thousand, and that was in Renminbi.

Once the funds were ready, there was no point in waiting. After the notary’s office performed the notarization, the $3.5 billion in his Swiss account was transferred to Chen Chaohao’s account on the spot.

Holding the transfer documents, who could have imagined that an acquisition involving $3.5 billion—equivalent to nearly 24.5 billion RMB—would be completed with such lightning speed? In terms of transaction amount alone, it was slightly higher than the fixed assets of the Yan Corporation. The Yan Corporation’s strength lay in the market value of its several listed subsidiaries.

Chen Chaohao’s status in Shanghai was slightly higher than that of Yan Shangyang; he was a tycoon of considerable weight.

Chen Chaohao kept a low profile. The shipbuilding company in his hands was already a titan in the industry, far exceeding the requirements for an IPO. However, Chen Chaohao had absolutely no interest in going public. As an autocratic leader, he wouldn’t allow others to dictate how his company was run. Moreover, this was a family business; how could he allow others to have a stake in it?

On this point, Chen Chaohao was notoriously “stingy.”

To be honest, the potential acquisition of Haili Investment Holding Company had been a hot topic in Shanghai. Many tycoons wanted to swallow this choice piece of meat. But Chen Chaohao demanded a cash transaction, which stumped most people.

Despite how many people seemed glamorous on the surface, it was simply impossible for them to produce $3.5 billion in cash. Their wealth came from various industries and numerous investments. Coming up with a few hundred million was doable, but $3.5 billion was truly too large a sum. It wasn’t that they couldn’t get a bank loan, but considering the loans they already carried, almost everything they could use as collateral was already recorded. With such a massive amount, which bank wouldn’t think long and hard?

Only a few could produce that much cash, but they wouldn’t use funds that had already been allocated for other plans.

Most people’s proposals involved using some cash combined with a portion of shares. But this wasn’t what Chen Chaohao needed. It was precisely because of this that Zhou Yuanqiang had the opportunity to use lightning speed to snatch this choice piece of meat from under the noses of many tycoons.

Many people likely didn’t even know that Haili already had a new owner and were still preparing more funds in hopes of acquiring it.

In fact, even Zhou Yuanqiang found it a bit unbelievable. Shanghai was a financial metropolis, and companies with huge amounts of cash were everywhere. Especially for a foreign consortium, $3.5 billion was just a large investment for them, and the funds could easily be put in place. How could they not have targeted this prize?

In the end, it was Manager Huang who explained it all: “Mr. Chen is a man of quite traditional thinking. He can do business with foreigners, but he will not sell his industry to them. Several wealthy heirs, under secret contracts with certain foreign consortiums, wanted to make a joint acquisition, but Mr. Chen rejected them all.”

The fatty was currently overjoyed. Being able to preside over an acquisition worth $3.5 billion was the greatest professional asset of his life. Because of this single deal, he and his company would gain endless benefits and join the upper echelons of the industry. More importantly, he would receive a commission of over $3 million from this acquisition, which was worth more than his company’s profits for two full years.

As they left the notary’s office, Chen Chaohao handed his business card to Zhou Yuanqiang and said, “Our ages are different, but seeing you gives me the same feeling I had back in my younger days. If you have any trouble in Shanghai, you can come to me. If I can help, I certainly will.”

Zhou Yuanqiang took the card. It was extremely exquisite; one could tell at a glance it was made by a master.

Thinking that he still had a box of cards he had printed long ago in his storage space—though they were very plain, they were better than writing his number on a piece of paper—he reached into his pocket, took out a card, and handed it to Chen Chaohao, saying awkwardly, “This is my business card. I hope you don’t mind.”

Taking the card, which was printed on paper even lower in quality than A4 paper, Chen Chaohao couldn’t help but laugh. “Very good, very good. This will definitely be an unforgettable memory in my life.”

Although there was no mockery in his words, Zhou Yuanqiang’s face still turned red. “I’ve made a fool of myself.”

“Somalia Steel Group?”

To be honest, this was entirely outside Chen Chaohao’s expectations. He looked at Zhou Yuanqiang curiously, then finally put the card away and said, “Indeed, heroes come from the youth. Back then, I was still struggling domestically. I didn’t expect that at your age, you would have already carved out a territory abroad. In this regard, you are even stronger than I was back then. You are in steel, and I am in shipbuilding; it seems there will be many opportunities for cooperation in the future. Young man, keep working hard!”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s face was still red even after Chen Chaohao got into his car and left. He rubbed his nose and took out another card, looking it over. The printing really was terrible. He guessed this card was the single worst card Chen Chaohao had ever received.

If he hadn’t given it personally, someone would probably have thought it was trash!

After paying Fatty Huang his commission, the man left, bowing and scraping. This acquisition was carried out in total secrecy. Both Chen Chaohao and Manager Huang were asked to keep it confidential for now because Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t want to become a celebrity overnight and cause a sensation.

As for Haili Investment Holding Company, Zhou Yuanqiang had no intention of reorganizing it. Its success up to this day proved that the company’s operational direction was correct and there were no management issues. it was a very healthy, growing company.

With his own half-baked business skills, he didn’t want to turn a golden goose into a dead duck. That would be throwing his hard-earned money down the drain.

Of course, the employees of Haili couldn’t be unaware of the news that the company was being sold. As the new boss, he still needed to show up and reassure them. Zhou Yuanqiang was hesitating whether to ask Chen Chaohao to help him maintain order and borrow some of his experience.

But thinking that he was the owner of the company, Zhou Yuanqiang’s confidence suddenly surged. “Who the hell cares if they’re not convinced? I’ll just fire whoever complains. The Commercial Association is about to reach ten million people, and don’t they still revolve around my will? A mere hundred or so people is nothing. Ha, nothing at all!”

Returning to the hotel, Zhou Yuanqiang thought for a moment and dialed Yan Yuhe’s number.

He thought she would be very busy, but surprisingly, the call was answered quickly. Yan Yuhe’s voice came through: “Hehe, did you miss me?”

“I miss you but I can’t ‘eat’ you.” Zhou Yuanqiang thought of the several times he had prepared to make a move, only to be limited to satisfying his hands and mouth. He couldn’t go any further, and his heart was itching. His abnormal physical constitution made his needs in this area quite formidable; Jiao’er and Ren Xinyun alone couldn’t fully satisfy him. “I’ve arrived in Shanghai early!”

Yan Yuhe naturally understood Zhou Yuanqiang’s meaning. Thinking of the electric sensation of his hands moving over her body, she felt weak and her face turned crimson. “Where are you? I’ll come pick you up. I just finished up with company matters.”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “You’ve worked so hard; I’ll come to you instead. Won’t you be tired running back and forth?”

When he hung up the phone, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head. Now he was a pauper, and with her birthday approaching, what should he give her? Last time, the medal represented his intent to protect her. This time, he couldn’t just fool her with another medal that was of no practical use in the modern world.

The problem was that all his gold and diamond rings had long since been converted into cash through the international black market. He could no longer conjure up mountains of gold and silver to impress people.

Chapter 356: The Badass Ride

Billionaires are always the most contradictory of beings. Sometimes they are the stingiest “iron roosters,” and other times they are the incarnation of a “wealth-scattering boy.” In this world of smoke and mirrors, you can never truly tell which one is the real them. Some extreme individuals can spend thousands on a whim for outsiders without batting an eye, yet be incredibly harsh toward their own employees, earning themselves the infamy of being blood-sucking ghosts.

Zhou Yuanqiang could never quite figure it out. Once a person’s wealth reached a certain level, it was indeed just a set of numbers. So why would they rather spend it on a life of debauchery than improve the welfare of their employees even a little bit? Had they forgotten that their wealth was earned for them, bit by bit, by those very same employees?

But now, Zhou Yuanqiang finally understood why so many tycoons were so stingy yet would also throw money around like water, becoming such contradictions.

When they were throwing money around, it was when their company dividends and profits were rolling in. Being stingy, on the other hand, meant their cash had been squandered to a precarious level. If they weren’t a bit frugal, they might actually run out of funds, which would make them the laughingstock of the elite world.

“Behind all that glamour, there’s just as much heartache!”

Jogging down the streets of Shanghai and looking at the colorful, bustling world around him, Zhou Yuanqiang let out a heavy sigh of lament.

Take himself, for example. He was worth billions of dollars, yet he was reduced to using “Line 11”—his own two legs—as his mode of transportation to go see his girlfriend. Ultimately, it came down to being stingy. As soon as he thought about having only a few hundred thousand yuan left in cash, even taking a taxi for a few dozen yuan felt like an agonizing waste of money.

Soon, the jogging Zhou Yuanqiang found a reason to comfort himself: “I haven’t exercised in a long time. Jogging is healthy!”

Heaven knows his physique was dozens of times stronger than that of an average person; calling him a superman wouldn’t even be an exaggeration. Did he really need to exercise? If he did, the people who sat in offices all day without moving might as well find a block of tofu to bash their heads against. Their bodies were like crumbling dregs, and here was this biological superman claiming that jogging was “healthier.” Where was the justice in that?

Running on these streets, he didn’t have to worry about being classified as a freak. Although jogging in the middle of the day was a bit odd, he wasn’t the only one doing it. Besides, this was Shanghai—what hadn’t people seen here? Running was nothing compared to the occasional streaker.

His superhuman constitution ensured that even after running for half an hour, Zhou Yuanqiang barely broke a sweat. When he arrived at the skyscraper where Yan Yuhe’s company was located, he straightened his clothes. While sitting on a wooden bench, he discreetly pulled a bottle of water from his storage space and downed it in one go. When he was finished, he tossed it with a perfect “jump shot” directly into a trash can over ten meters away.

A small boy walking nearby stared with eyes so wide they nearly fell out of his head, looking at Zhou as if he were an alien.

Zhou Yuanqiang shrugged. In a mischievous mood, he pulled another bottle of water from his pocket—actually his storage space—and winked at the boy. Without even looking at the trash can, he gave it another casual toss. Just like before, it landed straight in the bin.

The poor little boy didn’t even get a chance to announce an alien invasion before he was ruthlessly suppressed by his mother, who dragged him away. He looked back with every step until they disappeared down the street. Perhaps for a long time to come, he would remember this incredible scene.

Zhou Yuanqiang sent a text to Yan Yuhe, letting her know he was waiting downstairs. He looked up at the dozens of stories of the skyscraper and shook his head. “In Shanghai, everything is linked to ‘face.’ Having face is equated with having strength. What a strange place.”

The real estate company Yan Yuhe had taken over used this skyscraper as its headquarters. Often, people used a company’s office location to measure its power. The more magnificent the building bearing the company’s name, the deeper people assumed its pockets were.

Consequently, office buildings were built larger, taller, and more luxurious, all based on this very logic.

While he waited, a matte black Bentley Continental rumbled onto the small parking plaza in front of the building. The engine roared as it pulled in like an arrow, arrogantly taking up two parking spots. A young man roughly Zhou’s age stepped out, holding a large bouquet of white lilies. Chewing gum, he leaned back against the car.

Looking at the matte black Bentley—black on the outside, red on the inside—Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t help but admire it. Truly a rich man’s toy. In the country, a Bentley in this color was a rare sight.

“Now that’s a badass ride!”

Netizens usually liked to call Bentleys “Badass Cars” because of the silver ‘B’ on the hood and the ‘B’ in the center of the wheels. Every detail screamed badassery. The only thing lacking was the license plate; it wasn’t anything special. Otherwise, it would be a truly legendary ride.

In a place like Shanghai, billionaires were as common as carp in a river, and there was always a bigger fish. In such an environment, getting a prestigious license plate depended on one’s connections. The more powerful the owner, the more impressive the plate.

Thus, outsiders looked at the car, while insiders looked at the plate.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s estimation, while the Bentley was indeed expensive, its owner couldn’t be called truly influential. At most, he was a wealthy playboy from the second or third tier of the upper class. Of course, driving a car like this was a lethal weapon for picking up girls; he probably had a perfect success rate.

Glancing at the handsome and wealthy young man, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head and lamented, “The world’s morals are degrading. I wonder which pretty girl is about to be picked up by him now!” Secretly, he muttered to himself, “All the good ones are taken by dogs.”

Zhou Yuanqiang felt no shame in his “sour grapes” mentality; instead, he felt quite smug. He boredly watched the lilies in the man’s hands and fantasized, “If driving a sports car is this flashy, what if I brought out an attack helicopter? Wouldn’t that sweep them all off their feet? Forget three-ways; they’d probably agree to anything.”

However, his endless daydreaming was soon drowned by a wave of fury.

The reason was simple: the dog who was holding that big bouquet of lilies was trying to pick up his own girlfriend, Yan Yuhe!

Yan Yuhe had just stepped out of the building. That bastard immediately plastered on a smile, looking exactly like a weasel with bad intentions as he approached her. Before he could even say a word, he thrust the massive bouquet of lilies in front of Yan Yuhe’s face and began barking in what he presumably thought was a suave manner.

Fine, Zhou Yuanqiang admitted his internal monologue was a bit exaggerated, but there was no mistake about this jerk hitting on his girl!

Without ceremony, Zhou Yuanqiang stood up slowly from the bench. He looked around for a brick, but this fancy place didn’t have such things. He settled for walking over quickly. “You actually have the nerve to hit on my girl? I’ll show you why the flowers are so red by teaching someone a lesson.”

The poor guy hadn’t realized a god of wrath was approaching. He was still showing his more gentlemanly side, saying, “Yuhe, I’ve checked. You don’t have any social engagements tonight. Surely you won’t refuse my small request for some afternoon tea?”

Yan Yuhe had already spotted the fuming Zhou Yuanqiang walking toward them. She covered her mouth and began to laugh.

The guy, thinking she was laughing for him, nearly lost his soul to his own excitement. To him, Yan Yuhe was the embodiment of a cold, elegant goddess. More importantly, she was the sole heir to the Yan family fortune—the future captain of a multi-billion dollar commercial empire. If he could win her, it wouldn’t just be about getting the girl; the entire Yan family empire would be his for the taking.

The more he thought about it, the more beautiful it became. He was already imagining stripping this cold goddess bare and throwing her onto a bed to see the fire beneath her ice.

But just as his fantasy began, he felt someone tap his shoulder. A sharp, stinging pain made him nearly cry out. He immediately forgot about his visions of Ice and Fire Double Heaven and spun around. However, he didn’t immediately start yelling. Being cautious, he first wanted to see who it was to avoid stepping on a landmine.

But Zhou Yuanqiang looked ordinary, dressed in mediocre casual wear. More importantly, he was a completely unfamiliar face. That was all the young man needed to know. He glared, his eyes cold, and said sharply, “Was it you who just tapped my shoulder? Are you sure you haven’t mistaken me for someone else?”

At least he has some restraint, Zhou thought, giving him one point for composure.

Zhou Yuanqiang chuckled. “I certainly haven’t mistaken you. Can’t you see this lady has no interest in having your bullshit afternoon tea?” He then whistled at Yan Yuhe. “Hey, beautiful, I’m inviting you to eat some street noodles later. Don’t say no; this is a man’s most sincere invitation.”

Yan Yuhe covered her mouth, her laughter growing harder. Knowing Zhou Yuanqiang, she knew exactly what kind of mischief he was up to now.

The guy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, now filled with disdain. He looked Zhou Yuanqiang up and down before pointing at Yan Yuhe. “Do you even know who she is? Kid, let me tell you, you can’t just try to pick up any beautiful girl you see.” If Yan Yuhe hadn’t been standing there watching, he would have likely started cursing. Is there no one in this world with any self-awareness anymore?

Zhou Yuanqiang looked up at the sun, which was still high in the sky. “And what is your esteemed name? What are you to this lady?”

“Now you think to ask for my name?” The guy was furious. In this area, who didn’t give him face? But thinking the man before him was just some clueless brat, he forced himself to endure it. “Have you heard of Fangzhou Group? Fang Zuyi is my father. I am Fang Zongzhao. Understand?”

Fangzhou Group? Zhou Yuanqiang recalled hearing the name somewhere. He nodded.

Fang Zongzhao tossed his head back and said in a low voice, “Now that you know, get lost. Do you know what the most hateful thing in the world is? It’s someone sticking their nose in when someone else is picking up a girl. If my bodyguards weren’t away, I’d have had them throw you into a trash can already.”

Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly understood. “So you’re only acting like a refined gentleman because your bodyguards aren’t here. I was wondering how a privileged scion like you could speak so politely. I remember a few of Brother Yu’s friends—if they didn’t like the look of someone, they’d just throw them out immediately. Oh, I get it now. You’re just a paper tiger, all show and no go.”

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s sarcastic remarks and being called useless to his face, Fang Zongzhao—who, while not a top-tier scion, was still a “Young Master”—could no longer contain his rage. He lunged forward to grab Zhou Yuanqiang.

Zhou Yuanqiang actually looked a bit thin; he certainly didn’t look like a powerhouse. This often gave people the illusion that they could take him. Fang Zongzhao felt exactly that way. Relatively speaking, he looked more solid than Zhou Yuanqiang, so he naturally assumed he could win a fight.

Watching the hand reach for him, Zhou Yuanqiang simply stepped to the side, letting him pass. He didn’t even strike back; he just found the whole thing tedious. “Fine, game over. I’ve had my fun. Given who you are, hitting you would just lower my own status.”

Fang Zongzhao stumbled as Zhou Yuanqiang dodged him, nearly falling flat on his face. Hearing those words, his face turned a bruised shade of iron blue.

From start to finish, Yan Yuhe hadn’t said a word, only laughing the entire time. If it were anyone else, she might have told Zhou Yuanqiang to stop playing around. But as for Fang Zongzhao? She had zero interest. Everyone in her circle knew he was just a bottom-tier hanger-on and a notorious playboy with an obnoxious, arrogant attitude.

A third-tier scion like him, whose father’s Fangzhou Group had assets of only about two or three billion Renminbi, was essentially at the bottom of the ladder.

Ever since she had returned, he had been relying on his decent looks, like a toad trying to eat swan meat. Did he really think she would fall for some useless playboy? Everyone knew what he was after—the succession rights to the Yan family business. He could fool other women with that face, but he wasn’t even on Yan Yuhe’s radar.

After dodging the man, Zhou Yuanqiang tucked Yan Yuhe’s arm into his own. He thought for a moment, then walked back to Fang Zongzhao. While the man was still staring in stunned silence, Zhou snatched the large bouquet of lilies from his hands and said gratefully, “I was just wondering what to get her. This is perfect. Thanks for the flowers.”

Zhou Yuanqiang presented the flowers to Yan Yuhe like a prize. “I didn’t bring a gift, so I’ll give you these. Hope you like them.”

Yan Yuhe nearly rolled her eyes as she took them. She had seen shameless people, but never someone this shameless—stealing someone else’s flowers right in front of them to give to her! There wasn’t an ounce of sincerity in it, especially since the flowers were originally meant for her anyway.

Fang Zongzhao’s eyes, which he had just managed to pull back in, bulged out once more. He couldn’t believe his cold, elegant goddess had actually accepted the flowers from this bastard’s hand. Realizing the flowers were his own, he felt like weeping. In his heart, he screamed, Those flowers are fucking mine!

Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t have cared less about Fang Zongzhao’s pathetic look. He walked past Fang Zongzhao with Yan Yuhe on his arm, then turned back at the last second. “I’m in a good mood today. Otherwise, just for having the balls to hit on my girl, I would have beaten you until you were looking for your teeth on the ground.”

When they reached the Bentley, Zhou Yuanqiang gave the tires several hard kicks. “Think you’re badass, huh? Think you’re badass!”

No matter how strong Zhou Yuanqiang was, he couldn’t break the tires with just a few kicks. It was more for psychological comfort. Look… such a badass car, and it was still being kicked by him. This was what you called true badassery.

Watching as Zhou Yuanqiang hailed a taxi and disappeared into the traffic, Fang Zongzhao was completely bewildered. He couldn’t understand it. He was more handsome than that guy, and he was driving a luxury car. How could he lose? Had something gone wrong with women’s eyes nowadays? Could they no longer see world-class luxury cars, only seeing taxis that came when called?

Fang Zongzhao’s heart was in knots. Especially when he thought about what that guy had said. His girl? Since when had Yan Yuhe become his girl?

Thinking that maybe his charm was the problem, Fang Zongzhao stopped a passing woman. “Beautiful, want to go for a spin?” He held the door of the Bentley open. Faced with a handsome and wealthy scion, the woman didn’t care about morals or her current boyfriend; she immediately tried to climb in.

But how could Young Master Fang settle for such a person? He blocked her from entering the car and snapped, “You’re uglier than a sow. Why would I want you? Get the hell out of here!” With that, he slammed the door, started the engine, and sped away, disappearing down the street.

Fuming with rage, Young Master Fang obviously needed to go blow off some steam.

Inside the taxi, Yan Yuhe finally clutched the lilies and laughed out loud. “That was hilarious!” she said, breathless. “How did you think to mess with Fang Zongzhao like that? You know, his father, Fang Zuyi, is second-rate in our circles, but he’s still a man with a reputation. Aren’t you afraid he’ll send people after you to avenge his son? Fang Zuyi is famously protective.”

Zhou Yuanqiang stretched comfortably. “You think Fang Zongzhao is going to tell his old man, ‘Dad, I tried to pick up a girl today and someone snatched her away’?”

Yan Yuhe nudged Zhou Yuanqiang playfully. “What ‘girl’? Watch your mouth.” She toyed with the lilies for a moment, then remembered something. “By the way, I’m taking you to a place you men love later. I really don’t know what you men are thinking, wanting to play with such perverted things.”

Hearing this, Zhou Yuanqiang’s mind instantly flooded with scenes from countless Japanese adult films. Could it be…

Chapter 357: Men’s Sports

Zhou Yuanqiang spent the entire afternoon with his mind wandering. He was rock hard nearly the whole time, and the discomfort of that feeling can only be imagined. But who could blame the guy? For the whole afternoon, his head was filled with nothing but the places men loved most and snippets of the activities they enjoyed the most.

In truth, this wasn’t entirely Zhou Yuanqiang’s fault. Who told Yan Yuhe to describe things in a way that left so much to the imagination?

During afternoon tea, Yan Yuhe felt Zhou Yuanqiang’s predatory, wolf-like gaze on her. She began to feel uneasy and fidgeted, saying, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Zhou Yuanqiang scratched his head, his heart itching with desire. “It’s a look of appreciation—the kind of look a member of the opposite sex gives to another.”

Yan Yuhe was mid-sip; she nearly spat her tea out. She frantically swallowed it back down, rolled her eyes at him, and said, “I really don’t know what you men think about all day.”

“You really don’t know what I’m thinking?”

Of course, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t dare say that out loud. Instead, he laughed it off and said, “In G Province, people love their tea—morning tea, afternoon tea, evening tea. You wouldn’t believe it; some tea houses are packed around the clock. Business is incredible.” He shook his head. Shanghai was too fast-paced; people mostly frequented cafes. Where could they find the leisure of those in G Province? Take this elegant tea house, for example—on such a beautiful afternoon, it wasn’t even twenty percent full. That told you everything you needed to know.

Yan Yuhe had spent two years in City S and was well-acquainted with the local customs, but the differences between the north and south often lay in these small habits.

After tea, Yan Yuhe took Zhou Yuanqiang to see some of Shanghai’s famous landmarks, acting as his tour guide. Unfortunately, they hit the peak of rush hour. The streets were choked with cars, and the frequent traffic jams meant Zhou Yuanqiang spent most of the time inside the car. It could hardly be called sightseeing.

Finally, as the city lights began to flicker on and dusk settled, Zhou Yuanqiang’s sinful heart—suppressed all afternoon—began to stir again. He urged Yan Yuhe, “Didn’t you say you’d take me to the place men love most? Is it time yet? Can we head in early?”

Yan Yuhe gave him an annoyed look. “I knew it. Not one of you men is any good. The moment you hear about this, you get as impatient as a monkey.”

After retrieving her Lamborghini from the small parking plaza in front of the corporate tower, Yan Yuhe skillfully navigated the streets of Shanghai. Zhou Yuanqiang watched the neon lights and the nightlife outside with an pounding heart. After a while, a question suddenly occurred to him: Would Yan Yuhe really agree to him participating in some depraved group activity?

The direction Yan Yuhe was driving wasn’t toward Shanghai’s bustling downtown, nor was it toward a famous red-light district. Just like before, she was heading toward the outskirts.

After more than half an hour, they arrived at a large area on the outskirts covered in lush vegetation.

As they entered this zone, Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes were met with almost nothing but world-class luxury cars. Nearly every famous make and model could be found here. The roadside was lined with cars that cost millions, if not tens of millions. Numerous sexy young women, accompanied by elite young men, were stepping out of their vehicles.

In this place, Yan Yuhe’s Lamborghini was actually quite ordinary.

“This is the real gathering place for the sons and daughters of Shanghai’s high society,” Yan Yuhe explained. She floored the accelerator, the engine roaring as they sped down the lane. “This area is huge and subdivided into many sectors. Each sector has a different purpose. It all depends on your personal preference which entertainment sector you choose to visit.”

Zhou Yuanqiang shrugged, surveying this place that represented the peak of Shanghai’s extravagance—a place where the majority of the city’s “rich second-generation” congregated.

“I wonder if the Shanghai in the apocalypse has this many luxury cars. Just the cars alone here must be worth over a billion yuan.” He then thought about the people coming and going—weren’t they all dripping in gold and silver? Given the vanity of these rich kids, their female companions were likely wearing outfits and jewelry worth at least eight hundred thousand to a million yuan, right?

The moment he calculated the total value of the entire area, Zhou Yuanqiang’s face lit up with a greedy grin. Holy shit. I’m going to be rich. That’s enough to buy back half of Haili Investment Holding Company.

Seeing Zhou Yuanqiang’s dazed expression, Yan Yuhe became displeased. “Did you see a beautiful woman or something?”

Zhou Yuanqiang snapped out of it and laughed. “Isn’t there a woman sitting right next to me who’s beyond beautiful?”

The Lamborghini soon pulled over on a street at the edge of one of the sectors. After shutting off the engine, Yan Yuhe stepped out.

Taking a breath of fresh air, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head and took Yan Yuhe’s hand as they walked inside. For the old Zhou Yuanqiang, a place like this was beyond his wildest dreams; he hadn’t even known such places existed. Who would have thought that today, he would actually be a part of this world?

The place resembled a massive bar, yet it was different.

Once they stepped inside, Zhou Yuanqiang finally realized the difference. Yan Yuhe didn’t stay on the first floor. After presenting a gold membership card, she led him into an elevator that headed underground.

When they stepped out of the elevator into the basement, it still looked like a bar. The main difference was the massive boxing ring in the center. Though it was currently empty, the surrounding seats were already fifty to sixty percent full, with people talking loudly in groups.

As soon as Yan Yuhe walked in, a young man in a nearby corner waved his hand high and called out, “Sister Yuhe, over here!”

Zhou Yuanqiang looked over and recognized the man. He was one of the people from the gathering at the manor Yan Yuhe had taken him to before. His name was Meng Zhiping, a retail giant in Shanghai. Glancing around, he didn’t recognize the others, but was surprised to see Yu Zhenhua sunken into a sofa, tracing the rim of his glass with his finger.

Meng Zhiping remembered Zhou Yuanqiang and gave him a polite smile before introducing the others at the table.

Needless to say, anyone sitting with Yu Zhenhua wasn’t a nobody. They were all high-powered individuals. For instance, there was the unassuming Ning Hai. His father wasn’t a corporate tycoon, but he was the Asia-Pacific President of Citibank. He held the kind of power that no businessman could refuse; with a single signature, he could authorize loans worth hundreds of millions or even billions.

Yu Zhenhua also seemed to recognize Zhou Yuanqiang. He smiled and said, “Brother Zhou, it’s been a year, and you haven’t changed a bit. I thought you wouldn’t be coming for the birthday this year.”

Zhou Yuanqiang understood the underlying meaning. He rubbed his nose and smiled. “I didn’t think I’d have the chance to attend this birthday either.” He turned his eyes toward the boxing ring in the center of the bar. He finally understood that when Yan Yuhe mentioned “men’s sports,” she wasn’t referring to anything illicit, but rather violent underground boxing.

“So, Brother Yu enjoys this kind of sport too?”

Yu Zhenhua nodded. “I don’t have many hobbies; the only thing I like is watching boxing. But as you know, people like us don’t have the time to fly abroad. Fortunately, they have recreational boxing here. It’s not as exciting as the professional fights overseas, but it’s still boxing.”

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, it was likely as Yu Zhenhua said—the boxing here was probably more for entertainment, with rarely any blood or death. It was mainly for the sake of the high-status guests. There were rebellious heiresses and thrill-seeking playboys here; if they were truly traumatized, it would be a headache for the owner, even if they weren’t afraid of the law.

The people here didn’t seem particularly interested in someone of Zhou Yuanqiang’s caliber. After a polite greeting, they went back to their own topics.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind. He leaned closer to Yan Yuhe, caught a whiff of her fragrance, and asked curiously, “What, do you like this stuff too?”

Yan Yuhe shook her head. “Brother Yu invited me. I rarely come here.” She expertly picked up a form, scanned it, nudged Zhou Yuanqiang, and said, “Since we’re here, we might as well participate. Help me take a look—which one do you think has a better chance of winning?”

Zhou Yuanqiang looked at the form. it listed the contestants for the boxing matches along with some vague stats and their odds.

“You can gamble on this?” Zhou Yuanqiang realized. He looked at the dozen or so names—all of them were foreigners. Based on the data alone, he couldn’t tell much. He shook his head. “It’s my first time here; how would I know who’s good?”

Yan Yuhe thought about it and agreed. She simply picked a random contestant’s number, wrote a check for one million yuan from her small bag, and handed it to a waiter.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes widened. “No way… you just dropped a million just like that?” Zhou Yuanqiang was reeling. Only now did he realize what the life of the truly wealthy was like. This wasn’t a hundred yuan; it was a million—an amount many people couldn’t earn in a lifetime. Here, it was just the minimum bet.

If someone like Yan Yuhe, who wasn’t even interested, could throw away a million, what about the fanatical playboys? This seemingly small underground bar-style boxing ring—who would have guessed the total bets in a single night could reach hundreds of millions? It was essentially a legal casino, and no police officer would be stupid enough to raid it.

By nine o’clock, the entire underground bar was packed. The matches on the ring officially began.

Once the fights started, Zhou Yuanqiang realized how laughable his earlier assumption about “recreational” boxing was. When gambling was involved, how could it be recreational? The men on the stage were fighting for their lives. Although they didn’t kill each other, every strike was aimed at vital points. It was an intense and alarming sight.

A random bettor like Yan Yuhe obviously didn’t have any beginner’s luck. Her million yuan vanished into thin air in a matter of moments.

Soon, the professional boxers left the ring. It had been less than an hour. The speed of it surprised Zhou Yuanqiang. Did the nightlife of these rich kids really end at ten? That didn’t make any logical sense. Even at a regular bar, things didn’t get lively until after midnight.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang soon saw why the boxers had exited so quickly. The real climax was just beginning.

An announcer stepped onto the ring and launched into a sensationalist speech: “Everyone, it is once again time for our free-sparring session! Have you all brought your most capable bodyguards? I wonder which of your bodyguards will become the new Champion of the Ring today? Since we have a rare full house tonight, I wonder which lucky person will take home the final prize?”

As a newcomer, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know what this “prize” was. He pulled on Yan Yuhe and asked, “What’s the deal with the prize money?”

Broke as he was, Zhou Yuanqiang became hyper-focused the moment money was mentioned. Dammit, he only had a measly few hundred thousand left in his pocket. If he wanted more cash, he’d have to liquidate funds from Haili, which had very little liquidity at the moment—and he didn’t want to do that.

To him, the value of spending 3.5 billion USD to acquire Haili was the large number of companies it controlled across various industries, which would allow him to build a platform in the shortest time possible. Under these circumstances, no matter how much he needed money, he wouldn’t sell off his shares in the holding companies.

Furthermore, Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t satisfied with Haili’s current scale; he definitely planned to inject more capital into it later.

Hearing about a prize, someone as cash-strapped as Zhou Yuanqiang was like a cat smelling fish. Even if it was just to solve his immediate needs, it would be great. He didn’t need much—a few million would be enough!

Yan Yuhe knew a bit about it. “Actually, anyone here who has confidence in their bodyguard can send them onto the stage and place a bet. You could say the prize is the total pool of all the bets placed by the participants. There are no first, second, or third places—there’s only the last man standing. Whoever is the last one on the stage wins the final prize. After deducting a 20% venue fee, the winner takes the remaining 80%.”

Upon hearing this, Zhou Yuanqiang’s first thought was that the owner of this place was a greedy bastard. A 20% cut just for providing the venue? He must be raking it in.

“Is the prize money high?”

Yan Yuhe shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure, but some people place very large bets. I saw it once a long time ago, and the total was 300 million. Little Meng is quite fanatic about it; he’s always switching out bodyguards and sometimes bets over ten million. Hmph, he really is a spendthrift. I’ve told him a few times, but he never listens. I don’t know why Uncle Meng lets him get away with it. Maybe he’s influenced by Brother Yu?”

300 million?

Zhou Yuanqiang’s blood began to boil. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have been interested, but he was broke right now. 300 million might not seem like much to some, but it was still a significant amount. He tested the waters: “So, anyone can send their bodyguard up?”

Yan Yuhe nodded. “Pretty much.”

Zhou Yuanqiang rubbed his hands together and started acting secretive. He stealthily tugged at Yan Yuhe’s sleeve and leaned in close.

Yan Yuhe thought Zhou Yuanqiang was trying to get frisky. Brother Yu and the others were right there—how could they be intimate in front of them? But to her surprise, Zhou Yuanqiang whispered, “Yuhe, let me discuss something with you. My funds are a bit tight right now, and I want to earn some extra cash. You have to help me with this.”

“Help you with what?” Feeling the warm breath on her ear, Yan Yuhe’s face flushed.

Zhou Yuanqiang thought for a bit and used the excuse of going to the restroom to lead Yan Yuhe away. Once they were in a secluded corner, he said, “I want to enter this bodyguard match.”

Just as Zhou Yuanqiang expected, Yan Yuhe’s eyes went wide, followed by fierce opposition. “No way! Do you think this is a game? Even though people don’t usually die in these matches, many end up permanently disabled. Why… why don’t you value yourself?”

Zhou Yuanqiang knew his request was quite bizarre, but he was confident he could convince her.

Naturally, to convince Yan Yuhe, he had to show her something that would earn her trust. So, Zhou Yuanqiang acted secretive again, huddling in the corner with Yan Yuhe and performing various “superhuman” feats. From chopping through bricks with his bare hands to… essentially demonstrating his raw physical power.

When Yan Yuhe saw this, she was dumbstruck. She looked at Zhou Yuanqiang as if he were a monster.

Finally, she walked a few circles around him, muttering to herself, “Strange. You don’t look like you have much muscle. How on earth did you do all that?”

Zhou Yuanqiang gave a dry laugh. Could he tell her about the series of events he’d experienced? These things couldn’t be told to even the closest person; it was better to keep them buried. So, he started making things up: “You should know, I’m still a Major in the Somali military. In a war-torn place like that, of course I had to learn some skills to protect myself.”

Yan Yuhe stared with wide eyes, skeptical. “Really?”

Zhou Yuanqiang puffed out his chest. “It’s all true.” Then, he said pitifully, “Look, I’m out of money. I just want to earn some from these rich boys to help my business get to the next level. I have the skills and there’s a perfect opportunity right here—it would be a waste not to take it.”

“But to get the prize money, you have to be the last one standing. Are you sure you can do it?”

Zhou Yuanqiang became serious. “Never ask a man if he ‘can do it.’ For a man, even if he can’t, he has to say he can. And if he can, he definitely has to say he can. Especially in certain situations, whether or not a man ‘can do it’ is a matter of ‘sexual bliss’ for two people. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”

His words made Yan Yuhe roll her eyes. “A dog’s mouth truly can’t spit out ivory!”

Chapter 358: Did You Come to the Wrong Place?

After signing up, Zhou Yuanqiang and Yan Yuhe returned to their seats and began helping themselves to the food on the table.

Meng Zhiping looked at the two of them with a strange expression. “What were you two sneaking off over there for? What kind of mischief are you up to?” As he spoke, his eyes darted back and forth between them. As Yan Yuhe’s friend and a participant in the previous gathering, he was naturally aware of the relationship between the two.

However, thinking about how Yan Yuhe had submissively returned to Shanghai to take over her father’s business, Meng Zhiping couldn’t help but shake his head.

In their social circle, there were very few secrets. Any minor ripple would be known to everyone within moments. Regarding Zhou Yuanqiang, Meng Zhiping didn’t particularly like him, nor did he dislike him; they were merely casual acquaintances. In other words, if it weren’t for Yan Yuhe, he and Zhou would have never crossed paths.

Meng Zhiping had once wondered if Zhou Yuanqiang was after the Yan family’s wealth, but the man seemed to lack any ambition. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he have used his relationship with Yan Yuhe to brown-nose Yu Zhenhua? Even though Meng Zhiping’s own family business was growing larger by the day, his father still insisted he try his best to integrate into Yu Zhenhua’s circle.

Zhou Yuanqiang just smiled at Meng Zhiping’s comment, but Yan Yuhe fired back, steering the conversation toward the bodyguard boxing matches. “Zhiping, what kind of powerful bodyguard did you find this time?”

Meng Zhiping gave a bitter smile and shook his head. “Do you think good bodyguards grow on trees? You can’t just find one whenever you want.”

Yan Yuhe didn’t believe him. “This is a grand event that only happens once a week; how could you not be prepared?” She turned to Yu Zhenhua. “Brother Yu, what about you?”

Yu Zhenhua tossed aside the documents in his hand, looking somewhat bored. “Zhiping found a real expert this time. I’ve bet all my pocket money on him.”

In the past, Yan Yuhe would have cheered and been happy for them. But now that her own boyfriend was about to step onto the stage to compete, she couldn’t react as she used to. She could only manage a forced laugh. Hearing even someone like Yu Zhenhua call the person an “expert” made her worry. She pulled on Zhou Yuanqiang’s arm. “How about you just forfeit the match later?”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and shook his head. “Are you silly? You expect me to just give up 500 million yuan?”

When he had signed up earlier, Zhou Yuanqiang asked about the prize pool. It had already accumulated to about 600 million yuan. Even after the 20% cut, there would still be nearly 500 million left. For the current Zhou Yuanqiang, this temptation was greater than robbing a bank. After all, this was honest money; he didn’t have to worry about intelligence agencies or guys from any “centers” coming to his door.

Zhou Yuanqiang was truly speechless at the lifestyle of these Shanghai rich second-generation circles. A simple recreational event had a prize pool of 500 to 600 million. It was truly worthy of being mainland China’s financial center and a top-ranked international city. Rich people were as numerous as ants here.

“Are you really that short on money?” Yan Yuhe asked.

One of her father’s companies had a monthly order of 5,000 tons with Zhou, which gave Yan Yuhe a better understanding of his business in Somalia. It didn’t seem particularly successful. Aside from the order she had helped secure, there were hardly any others. It stood to reason that he was short on cash.

Zhou Yuanqiang sighed. “I can get by, but I just don’t have the means to expand the business.”

Yan Yuhe hesitated for a moment before saying, “I haven’t spent much money over the years, and my father regularly deposits money into my card every month. If you really need it, I’ll give you the card later.”

“No need. Won’t I have 500 million coming in soon?”

Zhou Yuanqiang naturally refused. A grown man relying on a woman’s money? If word got out, wouldn’t he be a laughingstock? Moreover, once he accepted, the title of “pretty boy” would be permanently etched onto him. Who knew if Yan Yuhe would then become the butt of the joke in their social circle?

After waiting for nearly half an hour, the matchups were finally drawn. The number of participants reached the limit of sixty-four, and a few people were even unable to join because they had signed up too late.

The tournament used a knockout format with random drawing. The winner advanced, and the loser was eliminated. This would continue until only one person remained standing. Thus, from the very beginning, everyone was destined to give it their all.

Once the drawing was complete, specific staff members delivered the numbers to the employers.

At Meng Zhiping’s table, he was the only one who had sent a bodyguard to participate. The others were self-aware enough to know their hired help shouldn’t be sent up just to suffer. When Meng Zhiping received his number, he glanced at it and smiled. “Not bad luck. I’ve seen the guy I’m paired with before; he’s decent, but this time…”

However, when they saw a waiter hand a number to Yan Yuhe, they were all shocked.

Yu Zhenhua gave Yan Yuhe an odd look. “Yuhe, I remember you didn’t really like this sport. Why did you send someone this time?” He paused and shook his head. “If I recall, you only have two female bodyguards. You wouldn’t send them up there, would you?”

Yan Yuhe could only manage a bitter smile. “You’ll find out in a bit. Just try not to be too shocked.”

Fortunately, the matches were about to begin, drawing their attention away. Even if she participated, it wasn’t some earth-shattering event—just a bit strange.

Since there were sixty-four participants, it wasn’t a coincidence that the pairs were even; the organizers only accepted sixty-four people at most to facilitate the competition. Zhou Yuanqiang’s number was toward the end. Out of thirty-two groups, he was in the twenty-seventh.

As the host took the stage, he first introduced the rules. The subsequent procedures were no different from a standard boxing match, with Group 1 taking the stage first.

When Group 1 appeared, even Yan Yuhe covered her mouth. One of the fighters was an incredibly strong Caucasian man, over 1.9 meters tall, with bulging muscles and scars visible all over his body—indicators of a very storied past. One look was enough to tell he was definitely a specialized soldier retired from the front lines.

Sure enough, the host introduced him: “Phipps, from the United States ‘Green Berets.’ He retired from the army just last month and is still in peak condition. He was once the third-ranked fighter in his unit and is one of the top contenders for the grand prize. Let’s hope this American soldier can successfully strike gold here in the mysterious East.”

The man paired with Phipps was number seven, an equally strong individual.

“And look at our number seven, hailing from Thailand. He is a very famous fighter in the underground boxing circuit. His Muay Thai is lightning-fast and brutal, often delivering a lethal blow in a single strike.”

“Alright, the first match of the competition is about to begin. For entertainment purposes, lethal force is strictly prohibited. We ask the two contestants to mind the force of their strikes.”

After hearing these introductions, Yan Yuhe nearly covered her mouth to keep from crying out. She didn’t need to hear their backgrounds; just looking at their physiques told her how strong they were. If they really started fighting, someone like Zhou Yuanqiang, who only came up to their chests, would surely be sent flying by a single punch.

Only Zhou Yuanqiang remained relaxed, cradling a glass of bright red wine and taking pleasant sips as if he were merely a spectator rather than a participant.

Meng Zhiping, Yu Zhenhua, and the others were excited, pointing and commenting on the two fighters. They hadn’t expected someone to have the capability and resources to hire bodyguards of this caliber. Take Phipps, for example; you couldn’t hire him for less than $100,000 or $200,000 a month. In the bodyguard industry, that was a massive investment. After all, one didn’t just hire a single bodyguard, but anywhere from several to twenty or thirty.

“Zhiping, do you have a chance of winning?”

Faced with Yu Zhenhua’s question, Meng Zhiping knew he was asking about his own bodyguard. He smiled bitterly and shook his head. “It’s fifty-fifty. It’ll depend on how they perform.”

With Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyesight, he could naturally see that both men were experts in one-hit kills. Special forces strikes were often incredibly brutal and fast, focusing on ending a life instantly. Muay Thai was the same—fast and vicious. Since this fighter came from the underground circuit, he was exceptionally ruthless. The battle between them would be decided by who managed to seize a fleeting opening in the other’s defense.

As the host stepped down, a bell chimed, and the match officially began.

Since it was for entertainment, the two first gave each other a friendly embrace before falling into their stances.

Phipps, with his special forces background, remained as steady as a mountain, possessing immense patience. Thaksin, the Thai fighter, circled Phipps, looking for potential openings.

The scene was somewhat dull. Yan Yuhe said disinterestedly, “How boring. I really don’t know why you men like this so much. They’re just standing there on the stage. Why aren’t they fighting yet?”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled bitterly beside her. “Boxing is also about momentum. Don’t let their inactivity fool you; the air is thick with hidden killing intent.”

Laymen, of course, couldn’t sense it. Many of the clueless princelings were just chatting with their dates about topics they found more exciting, like yachts or golf. Hardly anyone was actually watching the stage.

This made Zhou Yuanqiang feel a bit of sorrow. These heroes of the battlefield were now nothing more than playthings for the wealthy. How many retired soldiers, lacking life skills, were forced into the dangerous work of a bodyguard? And how many heroes who had secretly made massive contributions to their country lived lives of extreme hardship?

How could a boxer’s patience match that of a special forces soldier?

After circling for several minutes, Thaksin finally lost his cool. With a loud roar, he threw a fierce punch at Phipps. With his arm strength, the punch was naturally lightning-fast, but Phipps was not slow either. He parried with one hand, shifted his body, took a side step forward, and slammed his shoulder violently into his opponent.

It was only when the fighting truly began that the princelings found it entertaining, cheering wildly from the sidelines.

In truth, Zhou Yuanqiang’s knowledge of combat was very limited. After all, this was the age of firearms. No matter how good your skills were, you couldn’t outrun a bullet. Thinking of this, Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bit lost. Wasn’t he, too, someone who could be taken out by a single bullet?

He seemingly had the Armor Art, and as long as he activated it, he wouldn’t have to worry about bullets. The current Level 6 Armor Art could already withstand strafing from a heavy machine gun. But the problem was that he couldn’t keep the Armor Art active at all times. Given how flashy the Armor Art looked, wouldn’t people take him for a madman if he used it in public?

For instance, if someone wanted to assassinate him right now, given the speed of a bullet, he might not even have time to form the thought of activating the Armor Art.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, the only thing he could rely on was the upgrading of his ring. The higher the level, the higher his degree of reinforcement. Once his cellular genes reached a certain density, resisting bullets would no longer be an issue. According to current calculations, he might be able to achieve that goal around Level 20.

“The fact that a god-tier skill like Armor Art appeared so early implies that if I don’t use it now, there won’t be a need for it later?”

As Zhou Yuanqiang fell into deep thought, a loud shout and a scream from the stage pulled him back to reality. As he had predicted, Phipps had just retired from the army and was in peak condition, so his chances of winning were much higher. Zhou Yuanqiang saw him land a heavy blow directly on the carotid artery of the Muay Thai expert, Thaksin, who collapsed instantly.

Perhaps he had been instructed beforehand; in a normal fight, that punch would have been lethal. Now, it had merely knocked Thaksin unconscious, stripping him of his ability to fight back.

“Alright, the first pair is decided. Number one, Phipps, advances. Next up are number two and number thirty-six.”

The excitement of the competition lay in its process and uncertainty. The bodyguards stepping onto the stage were a diverse lot, mostly consisting of aces from top international security firms. Most of them were massive. The primary reason was that “inner qi” or “internal power” didn’t exist in real life, so they had to rely on their physical condition. The more muscular a person was, the greater their strength.

There were smaller bodyguards, but they were mostly focused on technique rather than power. However, against opponents who possessed raw strength, solid muscles, and a focused defense on vital points, it was very difficult for technical fighters to find an opening. Often, they would land multiple hits with no effect, only to be struck once by the power-type fighter, which signaled the end of the match.

Despite the strict rules of the organizers, it was naturally difficult to control one’s strength once the fighting started.

For example, the two African brothers in the eleventh matchup performed a brutal display of the law of the jungle. The result was one winner, while the other’s spine was broken, condemning him to spend the rest of his life in bed. Of course, according to bodyguard regulations, even if he was bedbound, his material needs would be taken care of for the rest of his life. But with his freedom gone, would life still have meaning?

Broken limbs and internal injuries were perfectly normal on this stage.

Seeing this, Yan Yuhe didn’t dare look anymore. She was, after all, just a woman. Especially when she thought about how Zhou Yuanqiang would have to face these ferocious people shortly, the memory of the injured people screaming on stage made her heart race with fear.

“Yuanqiang, when you get on stage, forfeit immediately. I don’t want you taking this kind of risk.”

Zhou Yuanqiang could naturally understand Yan Yuhe’s current feelings. If their roles were reversed, he wouldn’t let his lover take such a risk either. He couldn’t easily refuse her, so he said, “Okay, as soon as I get on stage, I’ll forfeit.”

But in his heart, he thought: Once I’m up there, how could I let her have her way? If I just take the guy out cleanly and quickly, she’ll believe in me then, right?

The matches continued. The bodyguard Meng Zhiping had hired was also a retired special forces instructor from China. He was equally formidable. With a sweeping and powerful style, he defeated his opponent in just three moves. Out of a spirit of friendly competition, he was very disciplined with his strikes, knocking his opponent off the stage without causing significant injury.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes, his strength was far superior to that Phipps fellow.

“Alright, next up is the twenty-seventh matchup.”

As the host finished speaking, Zhou Yuanqiang stood up and lightly patted the back of Yan Yuhe’s hand. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen.”

Yan Yuhe nodded. “Give up as soon as you get on stage, did you hear me?”

Seeing Zhou Yuanqiang leave his seat, Yu Zhenhua and the others couldn’t figure out what was going on. But when Zhou Yuanqiang climbed through the ropes of the ring, they looked like they had seen a ghost. Dumbfounded, they pointed at Zhou Yuanqiang and then at Yan Yuhe. “You… he… he… you couldn’t be…”

The host on stage confirmed their suspicions: “Look here, our participant Number Fifty-nine, hailing from… from… from Somalia. His occupation is a businessman. Personal data… Good heavens, 175cm tall, weight 65kg, graduated from a domestic university, no prior training, has always been in business.”

As if he were looking at an alien, the host scrutinized Zhou Yuanqiang and then the documents, blinking. “Are you sure you didn’t come to the wrong place?”

The princelings below finally found some interest in the situation and burst into laughter. Compared to the 1.8 or 1.9-meter giants, Zhou Yuanqiang really did look like a midget. Especially facing opponents who weighed 80 or 90 kilograms, or even over 100 kilograms, his 65 kilograms seemed insignificant—the disparity was vast.

Zhou Yuanqiang just smiled. “If you’re sure your information isn’t wrong, then I’m in the right place.”

The host’s job wasn’t to investigate these matters, so he sighed and said, “Very well. Next is participant Number Sixty-three, paired with our Number Fifty-nine. Let’s look at his data. Hailing from Russia, also retired from the Special Forces, 1.93 meters tall, weight 107 kilograms…”

As the host gave the introduction, the entire bar was filled with the sound of collective gasps. Everyone looked at the thin Zhou Yuanqiang with eyes full of pity.

Chapter 359: The Big Bad Wolf

The visitor from “The Polar Bear” strode onto the stage. His tall, sturdy frame exuded an endless sense of oppression. As he climbed the steps to the ring, he actually caused a slight vibration to ripple through the floor. His muscles, corded with bulging veins and explosive power, made it feel as though he could easily shatter anything in his path.

This Russian man, as strong as a polar bear, raised both hands high as soon as he stepped onto the stage, striking poses to show off his arm muscles while letting out a roaring howl.

Seeing those bulging muscles that looked like scurrying rats and the way his flesh knotted with effort, everyone knew that anyone capable of training such a physique possessed truly staggering strength. Given his background as a retired special forces soldier, there was no doubt that he—like Phipps—stood a very high chance of taking home the final prize money.

Those in the know were already imagining the scene of the American and Russian sides fighting to the death on stage. Their respective countries and military units were arch-rivals; wouldn’t these two fight as if they had encountered their father’s murderer?

It seemed this boxing match was going to be well worth the watch.

As for Zhou Yuanqiang, who was already on stage, he was simply ignored. Who would bother paying attention to a loser who couldn’t even take a single punch? In the eyes of the spectators, given Zhou Yuanqiang’s frail appearance, he would likely be swept right off the stage by the mere wind from the Polar Bear’s fist.

Yan Yuhe’s brain had already short-circuited. At 1.75 meters tall, Zhou Yuanqiang looked like a child standing next to an adult compared to the other man’s 1.93-meter height. She finally understood what it meant for an arm to be as thick as a thigh—because no matter how she looked at it, Zhou Yuanqiang’s thigh looked about as thick as the Russian’s arm.

Covering her eyes and not daring to look, Yan Yuhe shouted, “Forfeit! Forfeit quickly!”

Even Yu Zhenhua and the others were breaking out in a cold sweat, staring at each other blankly. “What exactly is Zhou Yuanqiang playing at?” they muttered. Given the current situation, it wasn’t just a matter of being friends; even a total stranger would feel some sympathy for Zhou Yuanqiang as the underdog.

From Yan Yuhe’s perspective, he was her boyfriend, after all, and she was sweating bullets for him.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Number sixty-three, Vasily, is ready. In Russian, the name Vasily signifies a ‘ruler.’ We shall see if the title of ‘ruler’ brings him good fortune. Similarly, we also wish our poor Mr. Zhou Yuanqiang the best of luck. We can tell that although he holds Somalian citizenship, he’s an immigrant from our country—one of our compatriots. We hope our compatriot has the best of luck.”

“Now, the match with the greatest disparity in strength in this tournament is about to begin. I don’t know where Mr. Zhou’s confidence comes from, but I must offer a reminder: if you forfeit now, there’s still time. I believe that would be the best outcome. Otherwise, once the match starts, you must bear the consequences yourself.”

Zhou Yuanqiang simply smiled, watching Vasily. The big guy was currently warming up, occasionally flexing his terrifying muscles.

To someone like Vasily, a former special forces operative, ordinary bodyguards weren’t even worth noticing. In all likelihood, they were here for the weekly prize matches. After all, if they won, they would become multi-millionaires instantly. Where else in the world could one find such a good deal?

More importantly, there was no madness here—even if you lost, you wouldn’t lose your life.

It wasn’t until the host announced the start of the match that the proud Vasily glared with eyes as large as copper coins. Looking down on Zhou Yuanqiang with contempt, he said in Russian, “Kid, go home and drink your mother’s milk.”

Those who understood Russian burst into laughter. Even those who didn’t could more or less guess the meaning behind the phrase. Seeing the atmosphere liven up, the host immediately explained: “Vasily means that Mr. Zhou should go home and drink milk. Of course, we can interpret this as Vasily disdaining to fight Mr. Zhou.”

“Damn, he’s totally grandstanding!”

Being in a bit of a bind, Zhou Yuanqiang naturally returned the favor. “Polar Bear, Shanghai is hot. It’s no place for you. Hurry up and crawl back to your freezing bear den.”

The people present were all modern people who spent time on the internet. The true meaning of this sentence was essentially: “Earth is dangerous, go back to Mars!”

The host immediately provided a string of Russian translation. Poor Vasily had to wrap his head around it for a long time before finally grasping the meaning. He roared, “You little brat, I’ll tear you apart!” To a proud Russian special forces soldier, being mocked by such a scrawny person was enough to make his blood boil.

Vasily didn’t pounce immediately. Instead, he mimicked Chinese etiquette and said, “You. I’ll let you have a few punches. Come, hit me first. Hit me here.” He slapped his incredibly solid chest. The muscles there were thick and knotted; their ability to absorb impact was surely staggering.

Zhou Yuanqiang sized up his own fist. Shaking his head, he said, “No, you hit first. If I throw a punch and accidentally knock you down, you’ll definitely be sore about it and think I didn’t give you a chance. So, you hit first.” He patted his own chest, looking perfectly fine, and gestured for Vasily to bring it on.

“Holy shit, is this guy… an idiot? Did he escape from a mental hospital?”

Some of the more hot-headed spectators began to curse. With a frame like yours, your chest is basically the size of his fist. You finally got the chance to strike first, and you don’t take it? You want him to hit you? With your tiny body, one punch will turn you into a sack of broken bones. How many ribs do you think will be left intact?

After a momentary daze, the host translated faithfully and then said in Chinese, “We have to admire the five thousand years of etiquette handed down through our history; we truly deserve to be called a nation of etiquette. Even when facing a powerful opponent, one does not lose national dignity. But the question is, which is more important: dignity or life?”

Hearing the translated words, Vasily’s eyes bulged. He raised his fist and measured it against Zhou Yuanqiang’s chest, then shook his head. “If you were an enemy on the battlefield, I would kill you without hesitation. But this is an entertainment ring. Before I change my mind, you should leave the stage.”

Having become addicted to grandstanding and seeing everyone’s eyes on him, Zhou Yuanqiang was inwardly delighted. He said, “No, no, no. Once you’re in the ring, you must treat it like a battlefield. Against an enemy, you must go for the kill. So, you don’t need to hold back for my sake.”

This time, every single person present rolled their eyes.

“It seems our Mr. Zhou… he seems to want to go play chess, chat, and have tea with ancestors. We just don’t know if the King of Hell will be in the mood when the time comes.”

Yu Zhenhua and the others had already closed their eyes. Meng Zhiping even asked Yan Yuhe if Zhou Yuanqiang had some kind of mental illness.

Perhaps Zhou Yuanqiang’s statement about the ring being a battlefield provoked Vasily. A sharp glint flashed in the Russian’s eyes. The decisiveness, ferocity, and cold indifference of a special forces soldier returned to him. He roared, “If that’s the case, then you are my enemy. For an enemy, there is no mercy, only disability!”

A cold Vasily was indeed terrifying. The fist he threw out even produced a whistling sound of breaking air, demonstrating extreme speed and domineering power.

Zhou Yuanqiang was secretly loving it; he wished Vasily had even more strength. Why? Because the more power the opponent had, the greater the contrast would be later. Wouldn’t his display of grandstanding look even more perfect and profound? Thus, Zhou Yuanqiang hoped the other man would be even more vicious.

Seeing this punch about to strike Zhou Yuanqiang’s scrawny frame, the women in the audience all screamed and covered their eyes. What followed was bound to be a cruel scene. They could already imagine the small Zhou Yuanqiang being sent flying into the air, suffering massive internal bleeding and coughing up mouthfuls of blood.

The scream was actually from Yan Yuhe. She clutched her head, not daring to watch.

There was a dull “thud,” followed by a collective, sharp intake of breath—that sound people make when they suddenly hit cold air. Then, complete silence.

Every person present had their eyes wide open, looking as if they had seen a ghost. They were trembling. Their faces were filled with disbelief, amazement, and shock. A whole series of words wasn’t enough to describe them, because what they were seeing was a world-shaking scene.

Vasily’s fist, as big as a dinner plate, was still planted on Zhou Yuanqiang’s chest. The former had a look of utter disbelief, while the latter was smiling broadly, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons.

“This is impossible, absolutely impossible!”

Vasily shook his head frantically. For that punch just now, he had definitely used his full strength, aiming to end the opponent in one hit. He had truly treated Zhou Yuanqiang as an enemy. But this strike, carrying at least 420kg of force, felt like it had hit a wall of cotton. it didn’t do a thing. This… this was simply impossible.

The crowd, whose jaws had collectively hit the floor, finally came to their senses, but none could understand what had just happened.

The poor host gripped his microphone, blinking. “What just happened? Our ‘Ruler’ Vasily—did his hand slip? Or did he stay his hand at the last second? What a dramatic turn of events. I’m starting to suspect they conspired together to give us this thrilling show.”

Vasily’s face turned beet red. The veins in his neck bulged, and his chest heaved violently.

After Vasily’s fist retracted, Zhou Yuanqiang unhurriedly straightened his ruffled clothes over his chest. He said, “Heh, not bad strength. But it seems you didn’t drink enough milk after all. Go back and practice for a few more years before coming out. So young, yet trying to earn money like the grown-ups.”

“Hahahaha…” The crowd below burst into laughter again.

Only now did Yan Yuhe dare to release her hands from her head. Seeing Zhou Yuanqiang standing there unharmed, she began to cheer happily.

Only Yu Zhenhua and Meng Zhiping were filled with shock. They had clearly seen everything that happened. The power of Vasily’s punch was gargantuan, carrying at least five hundred kilograms of force. Logically, even someone of equal strength wouldn’t dare take that punch head-on. Yet the scene before them told them someone had taken it—and was completely fine.

Yu Zhenhua and Meng Zhiping looked at each other and said simultaneously, “We underestimated this Zhou Yuanqiang. He’s not simple!”

Enraged, Vasily let out another roar and swung his fist straight forward again. But this time, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t just let him hit him. Instead, he lightning-fast reached out his right hand. With a single hand, he blocked the blow, catching Vasily’s incoming fist.

If he was going to show off, he had to do it properly.

Vasily felt as if his lunging fist had been caught in a steel vice; he couldn’t move it forward or backward an inch. The other man’s small palm was like an invisible giant hand, pinning him down. The bones in his fist began to let out squeaks of protest. Vasily had no doubt that in the next second, the other man could crush his bones.

Zhou Yuanqiang remained as calm as still water. He shook his head, and the hand gripping Vasily’s fist suddenly flipped, grabbing his wrist. With a sudden burst of power, he actually swung the 107kg Vasily into the air. Taking a sudden step forward, he released his grip, hurling Vasily right out of the ring.

The host felt a gust of wind over his head as he watched the 1.93-meter-tall Vasily fly over him and crash heavily outside the ring. His mouth hung open, unable to close. His brain was completely stalled.

If the punch earlier could be suspected of being a performance or a conspiracy, then what about this? Even a performance or conspiracy requires the strength to pull it off. This… this was a hundred-kilogram man, not a wooden dummy. How do you fake that?

The focused crowd finally saw this earth-shaking scene clearly, and everyone let out cries of amazement.

Now they finally knew that Zhou Yuanqiang hadn’t been an idiot, a madman, or someone overestimating his own limits. He simply had absolute confidence. No one had expected that such a small frame could hide such terrifying power—swinging a hundred-kilogram man like he was nothing.

If Zhou Yuanqiang had been a massive brute, perhaps everyone would have found it easier to accept. But Zhou Yuanqiang’s body was ordinary, he looked ordinary, his clothes were ordinary… every part of him was utterly ordinary. He was the type of person who would vanish the moment you threw him into a crowd.

“Too terrifying!”

A glint flashed in Yu Zhenhua’s eyes. He used to think the bodyguards responsible for Zhongnanhai were the elite of the elite, but now he realized there were even more monstrous people out there. He began to wonder if Zhou Yuanqiang had taken some kind of performance enhancer to be this fierce. It was truly impossible to tell that such an ordinary-looking man was such a hidden master.

When Yan Yuhe saw Zhou Yuanqiang swing that Polar Bear out of the ring, her mouth opened wide enough to fit an egg. She had never imagined that this man she thought she knew would have such an unfathomable side. The mystery that had initially surrounded him grew even deeper.

After standing there stunned, the poor host instinctively said, “Alright, I take back what I said earlier and I apologize. However, I am equally happy to see that our country is indeed a place of great mystery, a land of crouching tigers and hidden dragons.”

The rest of the matches lost all suspense. With a freak like Zhou Yuanqiang there, he sent his opponents out of the ring in a single move. With Zhou Yuanqiang’s speed, none of them understood what was happening before they were floating out of the ring.

Adhering to the principle of not hurting anyone, although they took a fall, it was only surface pain; he didn’t injure their bones or muscles.

By the time the finals arrived, a long-ago terrified Phipps followed in the Polar Bear’s footsteps. Zhou Yuanqiang swung him directly out of the ring. Against the powerful Zhou Yuanqiang, he had no options. In his view, some things were simply irresistible forces of nature, and this scrawny man was exactly that.

Indeed, with Level 17 strength—fifty-one times that of a normal man—a monstrous physique, and terrifying speed, dealing with these elites among ordinary humans was naturally no difficult task. One must keep in mind that Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t even use his Gravity Manipulation or Armor Art. Otherwise… under the pressure of Gravity Manipulation, never mind throwing a punch, they would be lucky to not be pinned to the floor. Amitābha.

Zhou Yuanqiang accepted a Bank of China card with over 500 million in it from the host. Having received the prize money, he didn’t linger. He straightened his clothes and walked coolly off the stage. He took the hand of a dazed Yan Yuhe, bid farewell to Yu Zhenhua and the others, and disappeared into the bar’s elevator.

It wasn’t until they were seated in his Lamborghini that Yan Yuhe snapped out of it. She stared at Zhou Yuanqiang with the look one would give an alien.

“How did you do that?”

Utterly frustrated and unable to find an answer, Yan Yuhe ignored the social distance between men and women. She lifted Zhou Yuanqiang’s shirt and felt his muscles with her hands, squeezing them from time to time, shaking her head in bewilderment. “It feels ordinary. It has the feel of flesh; it doesn’t at all feel like it’s made of steel.”

With those lovely, white, small hands wandering all over his body, Zhou Yuanqiang felt torn. The pleasurable sensation reignited the intense fire of lust from earlier that afternoon, causing it to erupt once more.

Like a big bad wolf tempting Little Red Riding Hood, Zhou Yuanqiang endured the pleasure and whispered softly into Yan Yuhe’s ear, “Want to know how I did it? That’s easy. Let’s find a quiet place with nobody else around, and I’ll carefully tell you how a ‘superman’ is made, okay?”

The naive Yan Yuhe, like a girl determined to find the truth, nodded vigorously…

Chapter 360: Misunderstanding!

Inside a suite at a certain hotel in Shanghai, the night was filled with romantic tension. No lights were on; instead, a few candles flickered, casting a glow that inspired illicit thoughts.

However, if our camera were to zoom into the darkness where the candlelight couldn’t reach, our poor Zhou Yuanqiang was currently poking at his plate with silver chopsticks, drawing circles over and over as he cursed that damned Yan Shangyang. He had been playing the part of the Big Bad Wolf and was just about to succeed—his fingers had already brushed against the restricted zone between those legs, feeling that slightly warm, smooth skin.

But at that exact moment, his cell phone rang with an incredibly irritating tone. Startled awake from the mood, Yan Yuhe scurried away like a frightened rabbit to answer her father’s call.

And so, the pitiful man could only stare blankly as his beauty departed. To him, this cursed phone call was basically a variation of the “your mom is calling you home for dinner” meme. A night that was supposed to be filled with sexual bliss had been completely ruined.

Bottled up with frustration, Zhou Yuanqiang’s inner turmoil was easy to imagine. He had half a mind to teleport back to the apocalypse to vent his frustrations on Ren Xinyun and the other girl, but his teleportation point in the apocalypse was currently at the front lines. This realization drove him crazy all over again. Frustrated, he could only remain in the hotel, spending a less-than-comfortable night.

The next morning, Zhou Yuanqiang ate the breakfast delivered by the hotel. Checking the time, he saw it was still early, only 7:30 AM. He stepped out of the room to feel the rhythmic atmosphere of the morning rush hour on the streets. He wandered into a nearby small park, traded a few Tai Chi moves with the elderly locals, and then leisurely hailed a taxi toward the office tower of Haili Investment Holding Company.

In the grand scheme of Shanghai, Haili was ranked among the top-tier companies and was considered quite well-known.

The news of Chen Hao wanting to sell Haili was common knowledge throughout the city. However, no one expected that the people and companies rumored to be potential buyers wouldn’t even get a chance—the company was snatched up in a flash acquisition. The $3.5 billion USD in cold, hard cash made everyone feel the sheer financial power of the buyer, as well as their decisive, no-nonsense spirit.

This flash acquisition completely blindsided those companies and individuals who had been plotting to buy Haili. They couldn’t fathom who could possibly raise such a massive amount of capital in just half a month to take the company in one fell swoop. One must remember that half a month ago, Chen Hao was still wavering, unable to decide whether to sell. It was safe to say there had been absolutely no prior leaks.

But for those with ulterior motives, the bird had already flown the coop; the situation was irreversible.

Still, many were dying to know: who exactly had played outside the rules and taken Haili in one move? According to the information leaked by Chen Hao, the other party was exceptionally young. This led to endless speculation. Which family’s scion was it? Which titan had secured the deal?

Zhou Yuanqiang, of course, had no interest in such thoughts. Acquiring Haili was merely to utilize its pharmaceutical subsidiaries to pave a wide road for his own career. Based on Haili’s profitability, Zhou Yuanqiang had calculated that while it was indeed a golden egg, the returns were slow. Otherwise, why would Chen Hao have been so decisive in selling it to liquidate such a massive amount of cash?

Every man has ambitions, and the scale of those ambitions changes with his environment.

Zhou Yuanqiang had thought about living a quiet life, but sometimes, for many people, living quietly is simply impossible. Possessing such a massive secret, he was one of those people. No matter how deeply he hid himself in the modern world, the day would eventually come when he would be discovered.

It might not be him, but it could be his descendants.

The best way to deal with danger is to arm oneself before it arrives—to make the danger no longer a threat, to make it disappear of its own accord.

But to achieve this, one needs a powerful force, a force sufficient to make danger vanish. Having realized this, Zhou Yuanqiang began working on his own power base, with Somalia being a major and crucial step. In the face of military might, a so-called commercial empire is but a joke; even civilization itself can be trampled upon.

“How am I any different from a father who works hard his whole life just to afford a house for his son to get married? I’m just looking out for the next generation!”

While Zhou Yuanqiang was on his way to Haili, at the Haili Tower in the Pudong District, the clock struck 8:25 AM. Every employee of Haili had already arrived at their posts. For them, today was both ordinary and extraordinary.

Lin Yiman, the General Manager of Haili, seemed to have lost her drive for work today. As the saying goes, “a new ruler brings new courtiers.” Now that Haili had changed owners, she, as the actual administrator of the company, had no idea if her fate was to stay or go.

When Haili belonged to Chen Hao, because he held the majority share, there was no real Board of Directors. Chen Hao served as the President, with a General Manager beneath him. In reality, the President was mostly a figurehead title; except for a few major plans determined by the President, almost the entire company’s operations were handled by the General Manager.

A massive acquisition like this was usually the work of a large conglomerate. They often planted their own people in key positions. Mass purges of the original staff were nothing new. In a bustling metropolis like Shanghai, people were long accustomed to it.

Lin Yiman thought about the six long years she had spent to finally climb to this position, only to finally have the chance to show her skills and see six years of effort turn into a dream overnight. She pulled a document from her drawer, looking at the corporate plan she had spent a vast amount of time writing. She let out a bitter smile and shook her head, wondering if she would ever have the chance to implement it.

Checking the time, the clock showed 8:40 AM. Lin Yiman stood up, straightened her clothes, and walked out of her office.

Quickly, all levels of management displayed their most professional selves. They stood on the plaza of Haili Tower, directing their employees to set up a simple welcoming scene for the arrival of the President.

Since no one knew the President’s preferences, the scene was simple yet carried an air of respect. For someone who liked pomp, this wasn’t low-spec; for someone who liked simplicity, it wasn’t over the top. It was a standard, middle-of-the-road welcome. To organize this, they had even held a special meeting, showing how much effort they had put in.

By the time the setup was finished, it was exactly 9:00 AM.

Lin Yiman led three Vice Presidents and over a dozen department managers to stand at the front of a red carpet. Behind them were the top talents from each department—the very essence of Haili had been gathered here. Their attitude was even more serious than if they were greeting the mayor’s inspection. After all, no matter how powerful a mayor might be, they didn’t hold the keys to their livelihoods like the Boss did.

The employment pressure in Shanghai had always been immense. Especially in recent years, Shanghai’s growth had shown signs of stagnation, yet a massive number of college graduates and postgraduates still fought tooth and nail to squeeze into this prosperous city. One could imagine that for the limited number of positions, there was an infinite pool of applicants.

Because the arrival of the President was somewhat last-minute and they had been instructed not to leak the news, no reporters were there to disturb them.

Zhou Yuanqiang should have been able to reach Haili Tower by 9:00 AM. However, he had underestimated the power of the morning rush hour. The streets were swarming with cars. After a series of stop-and-go movements, he was finally nearing the building, only for the street to become completely congested again.

Staring at the frozen flow of traffic, Zhou Yuanqiang finally understood why many people who owned cars still chose the bus—they were prepared to get off and walk if there was a traffic jam. The congestion in Shanghai was even more terrifying than in City S; he truly didn’t know how the people here could stand it.

After waiting for nearly ten minutes, the traffic finally began to move, otherwise Zhou Yuanqiang would have seriously considered getting out and walking.

Dragging along, he had planned to arrive at 9:00 AM, but it was now 9:20 AM. This left Zhou Yuanqiang somewhat helpless. As the Boss, giving his subordinates such a cold shoulder on the first day might lead those with wandering minds to think he was planning a purge.

Poor Lin Yiman was wearing high heels today. Having stood there for over twenty minutes, the consequences were obvious. Both of her feet felt like they had lost sensation, and the throbbing ache caused her brows to knit together. Yet at this moment, she couldn’t sit down and rest, nor could she leave. Who knew when the President would arrive?

The management staff, lacking exercise, were also suffering, though luckily the sun wasn’t high yet, or someone would have definitely collapsed.

The taxi stopped beside the red carpet. Lin Yiman and the others didn’t pay it much mind; after all, people were constantly getting in and out of cars at Haili Plaza. Pitiful as they were, they craned their necks, constantly peering down the street leading to the plaza, but they could not see the person they were waiting for.

Zhou Yuanqiang found the situation rather amusing and watched them with interest from the side.

The woman in the lead looked to be in her late twenties, not quite thirty, exuding a seductive charm of a mature woman from every pore.

Zhou Yuanqiang had read her resume. She was thirty-six, though she clearly maintained herself well. Strictly looking at her appearance, it was impossible to guess her real age. Her youthful yet mature temperament was very captivating. In Zhou Yuanqiang’s opinion, if she dressed even slightly more provocatively, she would be a femme fatale that no man could refuse.

Behind Lin Yiman were the three Vice Presidents. Zhou Yuanqiang had seen their files as well; they were all capable individuals with significant talent.

Lin Yiman, with sweat beads forming on her forehead, wiped them with a handkerchief. She happened to notice a man nearby scanning her body with an unabashed, lingering gaze, occasionally letting out a strange smirk. Her brow furrowed again. She had encountered many such people; their eyes always landed on a woman’s sensitive areas. He was exactly the type of man she detested.

Normally, when she went out, encountering such gazes wasn’t surprising, and she usually just ignored them. But the problem was that this was Haili, yet someone was being so brazen. As the General Manager, how could Lin Yiman not be exceptionally annoyed?

However, she quickly regained her composure. Thinking that the President should be arriving any moment, she suppressed her anger and shot a fierce glare at Zhou Yuanqiang, who was “eating ice cream with his eyes,” before turning her head away to ignore him.

“Heh!”

Zhou Yuanqiang chuckled and awkwardly rubbed his nose. Honestly, he couldn’t entirely blame himself. He had been bottled up all yesterday afternoon, thinking he could resolve it at night, only for a phone call to ruin everything. Any normal man who had been cooped up like this would probably steal a few extra glances at a woman.

He checked the time; it was already 9:30 AM. Seeing Lin Yiman occasionally twisting her feet in secret, Zhou Yuanqiang sighed and whispered, “My sin, my sin. It’s not my fault for being late. It’s your fault for wearing such high heels. Please don’t pin the blame on me. Amitābha!”

Little did he know, Lin Yiman had excellent hearing. Even Zhou Yuanqiang’s low whisper reached her ears, instantly making her furious. She shot him a vicious look, wishing she could give this shameless pervert a slap to wake him up. He was a complete stranger, so what did her wearing high heels have to do with him?

To Lin Yiman’s shock, this shameless predator actually started walking over. Heavens, he was standing right in front of her!

“Actually, if you’re really tired, you can go back and rest. There’s no need to push yourself so hard.”

Lin Yiman could hardly believe her ears. This shameless pervert—what right did he have to say that?

Never mind Lin Yiman; the three Vice Presidents next to her were already fuming. One of them stepped in front of Lin Yiman and said, “Sir, what do you want? Please leave immediately, or I will call security.”

Several department managers who harbored feelings for Lin Yiman rushed over, surrounding Zhou Yuanqiang and staring at him as if they wanted to devour him. If looks could kill, Zhou Yuanqiang had no doubt he would have been blasted into a pile of dust on the spot.

“A very good, very powerful flower-guarding squad. It seems Manager Lin is quite popular in the company. It shows the company is very united.”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s words left the group looking at each other in confusion. Even a strong woman like Lin Yiman turned red in the face. She gritted her teeth, looked at the department managers, and said, “What do you think you’re doing? Stand down and call security to handle this. Also, remember your positions. You are senior management, not street thugs.”

The men retreated with awkward smiles but began gesturing for the nearby security guards to come over and remove this lunatic.

Seeing several fierce-looking guards approaching, Zhou Yuanqiang was dumbfounded. Though he wasn’t afraid, if this turned into a scene, wouldn’t he become a laughingstock? How would the news headlines read? The Owner of Haili Company thrown out by his own security on his first day. Good lord. If that really happened, he’d have nowhere to hide his face.

“Wait, it’s a misunderstanding! I am Zhou Yuanqiang, your President—the one who acquired Haili from Mr. Chen.” He secretly blamed himself for being careless. Why hadn’t he revealed his identity sooner? Now he had been branded a pervert and a troublemaker.

Many had seen Zhou Yuanqiang get out of a humble taxi just now. Hearing his outrageous claim, everyone, including Lin Yiman, burst into laughter.

A Haili President arriving in a taxi? A super-billionaire with a net worth over $3.5 billion? Was today April Fool’s Day? Furthermore, this young man in his mid-twenties was dressed in an outfit that couldn’t have cost more than a thousand yuan. Aside from a plain ring, he didn’t even have a luxury watch. He wasn’t even wearing a tie, let alone a tie clip.

Seeing them look at him like he was a gross monster, Zhou Yuanqiang rubbed his forehead in frustration. Dressing normally wasn’t his fault; it was the fault of all the other big bosses who dressed so extravagantly.

“Well… ha, there’s no rule saying rich people can’t dress simply.”

Lin Yiman was, after all, the General Manager of a massive company. Her experience told her to be cautious. Regardless of whether he was telling the truth, she needed to clarify before jumping to conclusions. Strange things happened every day; if she had a boss who was extremely stingy, it was entirely possible he would wear ordinary clothes.

So, she looked seriously at Zhou Yuanqiang and said, “It’s not that we don’t believe you, but your appearance… you should have some documentation to prove it, shouldn’t you?”

At the mention of documentation, Zhou Yuanqiang grew even more frustrated. He had the documents, but the acquisition contract was dozens of pages long. It was currently sitting in his storage space. He couldn’t exactly reach into his suit pocket and pull out a massive stack of papers; that would be even more nonsensical.

“I, I…” Zhou Yuanqiang was at a loss. He even considered slipping away to a corner to grab the files and then coming back.

Lin Yiman asked tentatively, “What, you don’t have them?”

Fortunately, just as Zhou Yuanqiang was wondering how to answer, his eyes caught a Mercedes-Benz S-Class pulling up at the edge of the plaza. A slender woman in a coffee-colored business suit emerged. Seeing her, Zhou Yuanqiang let out a sigh of relief. His embarrassment vanished, replaced by newfound confidence. He stood tall and said, “I don’t have the papers on me, but I have a witness.”

Soon, the woman in the coffee-colored suit hurried over, clutching a pile of documents. When she saw Zhou Yuanqiang, Lin Yiman, and the others, her face was full of apology. “Mr. Zhou, Manager Lin, I am so sorry. Traffic was backed up for a while. I’m late.”

Almost everyone present recognized this woman. She was Chen Hao’s secretary and had also served as the Chief Secretary of Haili.

The secretary made the introduction: “Let me introduce everyone. This is your President, the Mr. Zhou who has taken over Haili.”

The crowd felt their eyes roll back; they felt like they might faint. The only thought left in their minds was: This guy—if he has money, why did he have to take a taxi to troll people? Was it fun? Now, things have really blown up.

Chapter 361: Eat Without Restraint

Haili’s hardware facilities were absolute top-tier. Walking inside felt like entering a five-star hotel.

The large conference room was the definition of “extravagant.” Even the meeting rooms of many five-star hotels might not be as luxurious as this one. The employee benefits were excellent as well. From Huang Pang’s data, Zhou Yuanqiang knew that the yearly maintenance cost for the entire Haili Tower was over $10 million USD—exceedingly expensive.

“How many listed companies have a yearly profit of only fifty or sixty million Renminbi? Yet Haili spends roughly sixty or seventy million Renminbi just on this building every year. It’s certainly grand.” But when he considered that Haili’s annual profit was only around $100 million USD, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head.

At this rate, the $3.5 billion he had invested would take at least thirty-five years to break even.

To be honest, it was this overly long cycle that kept other big players from attempting a direct acquisition. It also didn’t fit with Zhou Yuanqiang’s plans. Therefore, some aspects of Haili definitely needed adjustment. Of course, “adjustment” didn’t mean canceling the existing benefits; it meant selling off certain holding companies that were outside of his vision.

Zhou Yuanqiang had calculated that by offloading companies unrelated to his plans, he could recoup at least $500 million USD.

Inside the large conference room, Zhou Yuanqiang took the seat at the head of the table. Chen Hao’s secretary, Ouyang Xin, acted as his temporary assistant. Her responsibility was simply to hand over previous Haili matters and help Zhou Yuanqiang clarify the company’s entire structure.

Once she finished these tasks, Ouyang Xin didn’t linger and hurried away.

Catching the scent of her lingering perfume, Zhou Yuanqiang thought a bit suspiciously: What exactly was the relationship between this private secretary and Chen Hao? Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t believe that with such a hot, sexy secretary with a Great body, Chen Hao wouldn’t have had any designs on her. In this world, men with the saint-like restraint of Liu Xiahui were practically extinct.

“Alright, the meeting is officially in session.”

Zhou Yuanqiang tossed aside his stray thoughts and began. “It’s already 10:30 AM. Perhaps if we move quickly, we can make it in time for me to treat everyone to a big feast. I’ll keep it brief. Since I’ve come to Haili, you don’t need to worry about your positions or salaries. I will keep them the same. I’m also retaining all the benefits Mr. Chen established. I want everyone to continue working as comfortably and happily as before.”

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s words, everyone below let out a secret sigh of relief. Smiles appeared on their faces, and the tension in the glances exchanged between colleagues vanished.

The tension in Lin Yiman’s body also finally subsided. The little drama at the plaza had left everyone terrified, fearing that the young President was playing some game just to find an excuse to fire people and install his own cronies. Now that he had given his personal word, it shouldn’t be a mistake.

Seeing everyone relax, Zhou Yuanqiang found it slightly amusing. Their expressions were exactly the same as his own used to be when he heard rumors of factory layoffs, terrified of being one of the unlucky ones.

He organized his thoughts and continued, “They say a ‘new official’s three fires’ are inevitable, so certain adjustments are necessary. However, the adjustments I’m referring to aren’t your positions, but your compensation structure.”

“I will take three months to evaluate everyone. Those who excel will receive a salary increase. For those whose performance is unsatisfactory, a demotion or pay cut is natural. And for those who are just fishing in troubled waters—if you haven’t changed in three months, well, then Haili may be too small a temple for a great deity like you. I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Haili’s systems were already quite perfect, but Zhou Yuanqiang felt it was necessary to stimulate them, to return their work efficiency to the level of their more ambitious days, rather than just “ringing the bell as long as they are a monk.” People often produce great power under pressure.

Thinking that everyone below was guessing his identity, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “You might not believe this, but three years ago, I was just a production line team leader at a small factory in City S.”

As soon as he said this, the room erupted in disbelief. Everyone started whispering to one another.

Lin Yiman’s eyes widened, her hand over her mouth. “President, are you… are you serious?”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind the noise of their conversation. “Of course it’s true. About two years ago, I left the mainland and emigrated to Somalia, where I established a Steel Group. Today, I’ve acquired Haili. All of this was accomplished in three years. You can view me as a parvenu—the kind who struck it rich overnight.”

Almost everyone in the room knew about Somalia; it was a synonym for poverty. But if the Boss founded a Steel Group there, had he struck gold? How else could he explain having $3.5 billion to buy Haili in just two short years?

A few who knew a bit more were slack-jawed. The average annual income in northern Somalia was just over a hundred dollars, and the south was only a few dozen. The total GDP of all of Somalia was barely twenty or thirty million. If a single Steel Group could make billions in two years, why hadn’t the international news reported it?

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t explain anything about Somalia. He pressed his hands down to quiet the room.

“My goal in investing in Haili is very simple. It’s not about ‘revitalizing Shanghai’ or ‘pushing Shanghai’s development.’ No, my goal is direct: to make money. It’s for profit.”

He scanned the crowd and continued, “To achieve this goal, I need the hard work of everyone here. When the company makes money, your status will naturally rise as well. Salary increases, better benefits… everyone will be able to afford a villa and drive luxury cars. I believe none of this is just a dream.”

Having said that, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t continue. He closed his mouth and handed the floor back to Lin Yiman.

Actually, Zhou Yuanqiang’s speech, coupled with his background, gave off a very direct impression. Compared to Chen Hao’s old speeches, the employees found this very refreshing. They didn’t feel any resentment or disdain.

Besides, if a President could start from nothing and own a company currently valued at $4.1 billion in just three years, his personal achievements were absolutely legendary. If this got out, he would be on par with world-famous figures. Many of the top fifty companies in the world probably didn’t see a $3.5 billion profit in three years.

Lin Yiman gave a brief overview of the company’s future development and then returned the floor to Zhou Yuanqiang.

“I don’t have much else to say. Everyone, stick to your duties and keep the company running normally. To you, I am still an amateur. I will watch and learn more, but speak and interfere less.” He checked the clock in the conference room. “It looks like the meeting is ending earlier than I expected. Alright, the upcoming lunch will be my ‘first fire’—I’m going to fill your bellies!”

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t one to put on airs. His personality was easygoing; as long as he didn’t show his apocalyptic nature, he seemed like a perfectly nice guy.

The lunch location was a hotel not far from the office. Having recouped $500 million, Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t stingy—he booked the entire place. There were over a hundred Haili employees, which was enough to fill the hotel.

During lunch, Zhou Yuanqiang simply greeted everyone to get a few familiar faces. Then, he sat in a corner and let the employees cut loose. No matter how easygoing he was, he was still the Boss who held the power over the entire company. If he stayed front and center, how could they have a good time?

When lunch ended, the Haili employees still had some free time before the 2:00 PM shift, which wasn’t Zhou Yuanqiang’s concern.

Outside the hotel, in the nearby alleys, various snacks and boxed lunches were the main business. A large number of workers typically solved their meal problems here. If Zhou Yuanqiang hadn’t treated them, many of Haili’s ordinary employees would have eaten here as well.

Zhou Yuanqiang slipped into the alleyway, finding it quite refreshing. It was rare to find such a place tucked between these sprawling skyscrapers.

Seeing a stall with meatball skewers that smelled wonderful, he couldn’t help but pay for a few. Skewers in hand, he began eating as he walked back toward the main street. He hadn’t eaten much at the hotel earlier, so the meatballs hit the spot.

Walking along the road in his clothes and munching on skewers, probably no one in the world would imagine that this was the owner of the nearby Haili Tower—a super-billionaire.

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t in a hurry. He enjoyed doing what he used to do during his days as a manual laborer. Doing it again now made him reminisce about the past. Looking back, it truly felt like a dream. In a little over three years, a poor kid had gained everything he had now. And the thing that changed it all was the plain, unremarkable ring on his finger.

While Zhou Yuanqiang was lost in his memories, an Audi pulled up smoothly in front of him. The window rolled down, revealing none other than Lin Yiman.

“Boss, are you waiting for a car?”

Just a second ago, Lin Yiman thought she had misidentified him. She never imagined that her Boss would be standing on the street like an ordinary employee, eating meatball skewers without a shred of decorum. And by his expression, he didn’t seem to care at all.

Lin Yiman really couldn’t figure out what kind of person her Boss was.

Zhou Yuanqiang paused his chewing, then moved with a smile. “I am waiting for a ride.” He complained, “It’s the lunch rush, so taxis are hard to find. Oh, by the way, do you want a skewer? They’re really tasty.” As he spoke, he held out a meatball skewer toward her.

“Uh… I…”

Lin Yiman stared at the meatballs from the street stall. At her level, she was considered one of Shanghai’s social elite, managing a multi-billion dollar company. Given her status, even back in the day, she hadn’t eaten things like this. For someone like her, barring an accident, she would likely never have crossed paths with street meatball stalls.

But now, looking at her smiling Boss, Lin Yiman almost wanted to slap herself. Why did I bother saying hello? I should have just driven past. How would he have known I was there?

Lin Yiman forced a smile. “Thank you, Boss, but I’m already full. Boss, do you need a lift?”

Zhou Yuanqiang glanced at the traffic. “Sure, no use wasting time.”

He finished the meatballs in three bites and wiped his mouth with a napkin before hopping into the passenger seat.

Lin Yiman asked, “Boss, where are you headed? Shopping for gifts for your family?”

Zhou Yuanqiang replied, “Yes, I was thinking of buying some things for my family. Any recommendations?”

Lin Yiman thought for a moment. “I do know of a place, though I don’t know if you’ll find it suitable.” As she drove into the traffic, she laughed. “Are they for a girlfriend? Maybe I can give you some advice.”

Zhou Yuanqiang had long since prepared Yan Yuhe’s birthday gift. This time, he was mainly buying things for his parents and relatives. In truth, the family lacked nothing; buying gifts was more about showing that he still thought of them while he was away.

Zhou Yuanqiang was completely unfamiliar with Shanghai, so he let Lin Yiman drive. He actually found himself admiring this woman who could run such a large company at thirty-six. Recalling that she hadn’t eaten much at lunch earlier, he said, “I bet you’re not actually full, are you?”

Lin Yiman didn’t deny it. “I usually go home and cook for myself. I’m used to it.”

“Then your husband must be very lucky, being able to eat your home-cooked meals every day.”

The light in Lin Yiman’s eyes dimmed slightly. “My husband and I divorced seven years ago.”

Zhou Yuanqiang hadn’t expected that. He put on an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Lin Yiman offered a smile. “No need to apologize. It’s been so long that my feelings about that relationship have faded.”

“In that case, let me treat you to some food as an apology.”

Lin Yiman originally wanted to refuse, but after a moment’s thought, she nodded. “Alright, I’ll give the Boss face.”

Since Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know the area, the place he chose was completely outside of Lin Yiman’s expectations. He simply had her park the car, then led her down a side street. He found a relatively clean stall, sat down, and started ordering a mountain of food. There were mixed noodles, spicy hotpot, and several items Lin Yiman couldn’t even name.

“Sit down. Are you worried someone will recognize you here?”

Seeing Lin Yiman standing there like a deer in headlights, Zhou Yuanqiang urged her again. “Even I can sit here, so what are you afraid of?”

“I, I…” After some hesitation, Lin Yiman gritted her teeth and sat on the small stool at the tiny table. Her expression looked like she was heading to an execution. If a billionaire can sit here, why should a mere employee be afraid?

Zhou Yuanqiang nodded. “That’s more like it. Relax, don’t be so tense. Being here is about letting everything go and enjoying life. At a hotel, you have to worry about etiquette and how you eat—it’s exhausting. And the worst part is a dish costing thousands only has a few pieces of meat and some greens. They’re just a bunch of greedy crooks.”

“Haha!” Lin Yiman laughed. She hadn’t expected Zhou Yuanqiang to be so humorous. Slowly, she began to relax.

Zhou Yuanqiang handed her a skewer of taro balls. “I bet you’ve never had these. I honestly don’t know what’s so good about those shark fin noodles. The first time I ate them, the host didn’t tell me what it was. I thought it was regular vermicelli and gobbled it down. I even complained that the ‘vermicelli’ was fake because it didn’t taste like flour at all.”

“Hahahaha!”

This time, Lin Yiman wasn’t just politely smiling; she was laughing without restraint. “Shark fin really does look a bit like vermicelli. You are truly too… too…”

Seeing Lin Yiman let her guard down, Zhou Yuanqiang nodded and pushed a bowl of spicy noodles toward her. “Eat heartily. You’ll find it beats all the delicacies in the world. And look at these meatballs—they’re so bouncy. See? Can you feel them jumping in your mouth, springing against your teeth? And these…”

Feeling incredibly light, Lin Yiman shed the burden of being a member of the social elite. She enthusiastically followed Zhou Yuanqiang’s lead, sweeping through the pile of snacks on the small table.

By the time they finished, Lin Yiman realized she had eaten three or four times her usual amount. It felt incredible. Rubbing her full belly, it suddenly hit her that being able to eat a meal so heartily, so satisfyingly, and so relaxed for the first time in years was all thanks to this young Boss.

Realizing this, Lin Yiman looked at Zhou Yuanqiang and said sincerely, “Thank you!”

Zhou Yuanqiang clapped his hands. “We should face every day with joy. No matter what happens, if you meet it with optimism, you’ll find that difficulties aren’t as scary as you imagined. Be a little happier; let the past go with the wind. Remember, when you’re truly unhappy, come to places like this. Act like an ordinary person, take off your mask, eat your heart out, and everything will get better.”

Lin Yiman nodded silently. She suddenly realized that her young Boss was far from simple. He seemed ordinary, but the charisma he radiated was vast and magical. People who didn’t know him or hadn’t spent time with him could never understand the natural, magnetic draw of his personality.

Being with him felt like finding a spiritual harbor where a weary heart, tired of wearing a mask, could safely drop anchor…

Chapter 362: Stagnation

Zhou Yuanqiang, who traveled back and forth between the apocalyptic and modern worlds, had just finished stabilizing the affairs of Haili and setting it on the right track. He was forced to come up with a small excuse for Yan Yuhe and return to the apocalypse four days before her birthday. This was because the Eastern Front Army, after five days of a brutal offensive, had unexpectedly failed to capture the apocalyptic Shanghai according to plan. This came as a significant surprise to Zhou Yuanqiang.

In the original plan, this international metropolis was supposed to be taken within five days. Yet now, five days had passed, and only a third of the area was occupied. How could this not be shocking? Even though Shanghai had a massive population of 18 million (slightly increased in the story from the 16.6 million in 2010), it shouldn’t have been this difficult.

One must remember that City S, with its population of 15 million, had been completely reclaimed in just five days. Furthermore, a large number of transport airships and fighter jets from the Southern Front Army had been reassigned to the Eastern Front, making its strength even more formidable. Excluding the two super mothership fleets with over a thousand fighter jets, seventy percent of the Commercial Association’s total air power—over 1,700 aircraft—had been deployed to the Eastern Front.

Yet, despite this increase in combat power, the results were frustratingly subpar.

The moment he stepped back onto this apocalyptic land, Zhou Yuanqiang felt compelled to call an emergency military meeting. He was quite irritated; he had only been gone for a few days, and things had turned out like this. He wondered if it was his own fault for leaving or the incompetence of his subordinates.

The emergency military meeting was held on The Chairman, the super mothership. All the key personnel of the Eastern Front Army were present.

In the Commercial Association, when Zhou Yuanqiang was smiling, you couldn’t sense even a hint of how terrifying he could be. But when he turned serious and stopped restraining his aura, even Qiu Guorui, the second-most powerful figure in the association, would break into a cold sweat and lack the courage to meet his eyes.

As Zhou Yuanqiang became increasingly dominant, his status transcending the Commercial Association’s constitution and his power exceeding even that of historical emperors, his aura grew even more piercing. The upgrades to his ring made this pressure incredibly sharp. Those who had felt it described it as if they were standing naked before the Chairman; it was a soul-shaking experience that combined fear with a fanaticism that went beyond mere respect.

Sitting at the head of the conference table, Zhou Yuanqiang looked at the casualty report for the past five days. Only after confirming the data’s authenticity did he suddenly slam his hand on the table. “Are you sure you didn’t give me the wrong report? In five days, we lost over 220 fighter jets, 16,000 men, and 166 tanks. Excellent. Simply excellent!”

Zhang Yixian, the Commander of the Eastern Front Army, stood up and lowered his head deeply. “Boss, please punish me. It was my failure in commanding the troops.”

The original five-man core team led by Qiu Guorui now all stood at the pinnacle of power within the Commercial Association. Qiu Guorui was the Minister of the Military, Zhang Yixian was the Commander of the Eastern Front Army, Mu Gushan was the Army Commander, Chen Xunan was the manager of the armory, and Zhao Hongyuan was the Commander of the Special Forces.

Anyone seeing this list would be stunned by the weight these men held in Zhou Yuanqiang’s heart; it was the honor of those who had followed him from the very beginning. They controlled nearly seventy percent of the military power and were some of the most powerful people in the association. Qiu Guorui, in particular, was the second-in-command as the Minister of the Military.

To someone unfamiliar with Zhou Yuanqiang’s prestige, they might worry that someone would seize power from him.

Only Zhou Yuanqiang knew that this was impossible. The primary will of every soldier in the Commercial Association was to obey him. Any action directed against him was considered treason, and soldiers had the right to refuse such orders. Furthermore, his prestige within the association had reached an unshakable level. Who would be brain-dead enough to plot his overthrow?

Despite Qiu Guorui being the Minister of the Military in charge of both the Army and the Air Force, his actual power lay with the Army. The Air Force functioned as Zhou Yuanqiang’s direct unit; it would only deploy upon receiving his specific orders. Moreover, the Intelligence Department was under his direct control. Without intelligence, who would dare move?

Not only that, but the Special Forces were also essentially in his hands. Although Zhao Hongyuan was the commander, in the event of any “accident,” the Special Forces would report directly to Zhou Yuanqiang. Even more terrifying was the Strategic Department, which also operated on a single-line reporting system directly to Zhou Yuanqiang. Without his command, no one could mobilize this newly formed and most mysterious branch of the military.

When calculated by numbers, Zhou Yuanqiang only held about 30% of the Commercial Association’s total military force. But when calculated by quality, he controlled an astonishing 85%.

There was no doubt about it—one only had to look at the Strategic Department’s three special high-pressure warheads, which could wipe out tens of thousands of zombies in a town, to understand their lethality. Furthermore, by controlling the two super mothership fleets and 2,500 fighter jets, Zhou Yuanqiang was already in an invincible position.

Under these circumstances, who would harbor even a sliver of thought about rebellion? If even a hint of such a thing leaked, the Intelligence Department would likely invite them to “have tea” within moments.

A saying circulated within the Commercial Association: “Do not attempt to challenge the Chief of Intelligence; within three minutes, he will strip you bare.” It was precisely because of the Intelligence Department’s terrifying efficiency that countless people with ulterior motives simply vanished from the public eye. Spies sent from the north often found themselves in a dead end before they could even begin their work.

Seeing Zhang Yixian take the initiative to ask for punishment, the high-ranking officers below all stood up and said in unison, “Chairman, please punish us!”

Zhou Yuanqiang frowned and let out a cold laugh. “All of you, sit down! Do you think this is a performance? So synchronized. Right now, I only want to know what exactly happened. You must understand that since we began the reclamation battle, our total losses combined weren’t even half of what they are now. This is a disgrace to the Eastern Front Army.”

Led by Zhang Yixian, the officers cautiously took their seats.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes flickered toward his number-one lackey beside him. “I think the person in the entire Commercial Association most capable of giving me an answer is you.”

Xu Yuhai’s face was like frost. He hadn’t stood up with Zhang Yixian and the others; instead, he had been organizing a large amount of data. He knew his Boss very well and knew he would want a detailed understanding of the situation. After Zhou Yuanqiang called his name, he stood up, glanced at the Boss, and said, “Boss, truth be told, you’ve misunderstood Commander Zhang and the others.”

“Oh?” Zhou Yuanqiang raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Xu Yuhai walked to the large screen in the meeting room, adjusted the projector himself, and input the data before saying, “Originally, your operational requirement was to avoid damaging Shanghai as much as possible. It was this very requirement that put immense pressure on the Eastern Front Army. Not wanting to cause large-scale destruction to the city meant the Air Force essentially lost its primary utility, and even strategic weapons couldn’t be used.”

At this point, Xu Yuhai paused. “That is the primary objective reason. The direct reason, however, is that we severely underestimated the reality of Shanghai.”

He opened a large map showing the progress of the Eastern and Southern Front Armies, pointing to the cities marked on it. “The Southern Front Army’s advance was undoubtedly the smoothest. During their progress, no leader-class zombies appeared, and even Special Infected were few and far between. Even G Province, with its massive population, didn’t pose much resistance to the Southern Front.”

Using a tactical baton to point at the cities on the Eastern Front, Xu Yuhai continued, “Similarly, before reaching Shanghai, the Eastern Front’s advance was almost identical—very smooth. So, what did we overlook?”

The people present, including Zhang Yixian, had also puzzled over this problem after hitting a wall, but they didn’t yet know of certain things that had happened during the few days Zhou Yuanqiang was away.

Xu Yuhai explained, “During the massive tide of hundreds of millions of zombies in the past, the Bird Zombies we encountered seemed to have vanished. They were almost nowhere to be seen. Didn’t you find that strange, Boss? Furthermore, many types of Special Infected we previously scouted seemed to have evaporated into thin air, disappearing collectively.”

“When I discovered this, I sent out numerous reconnaissance airships for carpet-style scouting, but we found nothing. Because the two fronts were pushing forward and we had to monitor the north, the resources of our intelligence department were limited. Before this mystery could be solved, the offensive on Shanghai had already begun.”

The screen no longer showed still images but footage from a UAV flying over a squadron of fighter jets.

The footage showed a flight group of twelve jets. They weren’t just flying; they were engaged in a struggle with a massive, black mass of Bird Zombies. The footage lasted only seven minutes before ending, as the entire flight group was destroyed in an instant, erupting into violent explosions under the onslaught of crackling electrical arcs.

Xu Yuhai pointed at the frozen frame of the dense cluster of Bird Zombies and said, “According to preliminary estimates, there are over two hundred Bird Zombies here, and this is only a fraction of them. It was their sudden appearance that caused the large-scale destruction of our fighter jets and prevented us from securing total air superiority over Shanghai.”

Zhou Yuanqiang finally understood a bit more. It wasn’t a problem with the Eastern Front Army’s competence, but rather a variable that had appeared among the zombies.

Zhou Yuanqiang knew about Bird Zombies; the Intelligence Department had analyzed them deeply. Although they weren’t as fast as a fighter jet, they were over ten times more agile. They were just like birds, capable of maneuvers in the air that were impossible for any jet. They used this agility to compensate for their lack of speed.

Their super-sensitive perception gave the Bird Zombies an unimaginable sensory range. They could detect threats from a great distance and use their flexibility to change position, dodging missile attacks. This negated their weakness of only being able to operate at altitudes around 2,000 meters. Otherwise, given the range of air-to-air missiles and the fact that jets could fly at ten to twenty thousand meters, Bird Zombies would be nothing more than sitting ducks.

Since long-range attacks weren’t working, the only method was close-quarters dogfighting, using proximity to render their super-senses ineffective.

This was how the jets were lost. With their extremely flexible flight capabilities, it often took the loss of two or three jets to destroy a single Bird Zombie. The report mentioned the loss of over 220 jets; their total achievement was merely tearing about a hundred Bird Zombies to shreds.

At this moment, Zhou Yuanqiang felt incredibly conflicted and depressed. Over 220 fighter jets translated to a loss of over seven billion dollars, and the loss of over two hundred pilots was beyond calculation. Yet seven billion dollars had only bought the deaths of about a hundred Bird Zombies—the ratio was completely skewed.

“Why didn’t you deploy anti-aircraft units once the Bird Zombies were discovered?”

No matter how agile a Bird Zombie was, it couldn’t possibly dodge a rain of anti-aircraft fire. Their operational altitude meant they couldn’t escape the range of anti-aircraft guns.

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s question, Zhang Yixian felt even more frustrated. He said bitterly, “Boss, our units have almost zero anti-aircraft capabilities.”

At this, Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly remembered. Because flying zombies hadn’t appeared in the early stages of the apocalypse, they had almost never considered anti-aircraft defenses during development. As the Air Force grew stronger, the perceived necessity for ground-based anti-air decreased further. When Bird Zombies first appeared, their numbers were so small that the Commercial Association hadn’t paid them much heed.

He hadn’t expected that this oversight would lead to today’s tragedy.

Zhou Yuanqiang was silent for a moment before asking, “Have you found a solution?”

The greatest weakness of their strategic weapons was that several key technical issues remained unsolved; they still required guidance devices to function. Otherwise, with the power of high-pressure crystal warheads, why would they fear a few hundred Bird Zombies? With their massive area of effect, the zombies wouldn’t be able to escape even if they wanted to.

Zhang Yixian nodded. “We’ve completed the preliminary targeted deployments. We were just caught off guard by this unexpected situation.”

Zhou Yuanqiang gave a grunt of acknowledgment and told Xu Yuhai, “Continue!”

Xu Yuhai closed the previous footage and started a new one. This time, it showed a major boulevard in Shanghai. Countless zombies were captured in high-definition; every detail was visible, making one’s skin crawl. The surging mass of heads looked like sand maggots, as disgusting as could be.

Soon, the camera panned to the other side of the boulevard. A large number of human soldiers were advancing, led by seven tanks.

The seven Rhine Tanks leading the way fired their main guns an average of three times per minute. The thunderous explosions and powerful overpressure flipped zombies into the air and tore them into fragments. The soldiers following behind fired their rifles in precision bursts, headshotting zombies in the distance.

The scene seemed completely one-sided. The zombies had no way of stopping these steel beasts for even a second.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang knew that since this footage was being shown here, it wouldn’t be that simple. Xu Yuhai wouldn’t show him a mundane recording.

Sure enough, after about a minute of playback, one of the tanks—which had been rolling over the mountain of fallen zombies—suddenly crackled with intense electrical arcs. It emitted black smoke and ground to a halt. The intensity of the electricity was so high that it detonated the shells inside the tank. In a thunderous explosion, the tank turned into a pile of mangled, burning wreckage.

The soldiers following close behind met with disaster.

The electrical arcs had already claimed several lives, and an explosion of that magnitude sent tank fragments flying, causing a dozen soldiers behind to fall in the street. Some were gruesome casualties, with half their heads or bodies sheared away by shrapnel.

Once this recording stopped, Xu Yuhai played several more clips. There were charges by Giant Zombies, precision strikes from Spine-Zombies, and large-scale attacks from the gross-monster-like Volt-Zombies. More importantly, there was the terrifying black mist of the Octopus Zombies, their movement speed as if they were in water, and their frantic tentacles sweeping up soldiers and tossing them into the sky.

Everything shown so far was familiar to those present, but what came next was new. There were zombies that looked like piles of sludge; they moved slowly, but their attack power was beyond imagination. They were like self-propelled artillery. Once they stopped, the sludge would rapidly morph into a shape that was almost entirely a cannon barrel, which then spat out a black, liquid-like substance.

As the camera followed, this black liquid could be seen turning deep green upon contact with the air. After a brief flight, it crashed into a cluster of soldiers.

Zhou Yuanqiang had thought it would be an enhanced version of the Volt-Zombie, but he was quickly horrified.

The featureless mass didn’t splash when it hit the soldiers; instead, it created a mist—a thick, green fog. Wherever this fog went, the soldiers it enveloped were rapidly dissolved… until nothing was left.

Xu Yuhai said, “We call this new high-power zombie the Bio-Germ Battery. A large number of our soldiers died at its hands. This green mist isn’t corrosive; it’s a ‘devouring’ effect. Samples have been sent back to the association, but it will take some time to get results.”

The captured footage proved that the entirety of Shanghai was effectively a zombie hive, filled with a massive number of Special Infected, including many types humans had never discovered before. They were entrenched here, and it was their presence that halted the human advance. Despite paying a heavy price, they had only reclaimed a third of Shanghai, and that was only the outer perimeter.

“Additionally, there’s a type of Ghost Zombie that only appears at night. They move very fast and strike after dark, posing a significant threat to the areas we’ve already reclaimed. Often, we even lose control of certain areas.”

At this point, Xu Yuhai spoke with a sense of helplessness. “Boss, the situation in Shanghai is completely different from anything we’ve encountered before. I’m afraid that as we go deeper, even more undiscovered zombie types will emerge. It feels like this place is their headquarters—their Great Hive.”

Chapter 363: Sharpening the Knives

After the emergency military meeting concluded, Zhou Yuanqiang did not strip Zhang Yixian of his post. After all, the recent developments had been unforeseen. Zhang Yixian had demonstrated the composure and decisiveness expected of a commander under such circumstances, proving himself more than capable of leading the Eastern Front Army.

The next day, faced with troops whose morale had dipped slightly, Zhou Yuanqiang naturally did not stay hidden away on the super mothership. Instead, he led a group of generals deep into the various military units.

In the areas controlled by human soldiers, the high-rise buildings remained largely intact. Only the green belts along the streets had been ravaged by the crossfire. Due to the intensity of the fighting, the sheer volume of zombie corpses had not yet been cleared and lay strewn across the roads. Countless abandoned cars from the old world had been pushed to the sides of the streets, piled into disorganized, twisted heaps.

Numerous military trucks rumbled back and forth along the avenues. These vehicles were responsible for ferrying ammunition, grain, water, and other essential supplies into the city.

In the skies above the controlled sectors, attack helicopters patrolled periodically, ensuring the safety of the perimeter. Occasionally, the scream of fighter jets could be heard as they tore through the upper atmosphere. Higher still, massive military airships hovered, appearing as mere black specks the size of a fist against the sky.

At this time of year, Shanghai was prone to frequent light rain, leaving the streets riddled with puddles of filthy water. The fluids of the zombies mixed with the rain, emitting a pungent, overwhelming stench.

Fortunately, the soldiers were stationed inside the skyscrapers, sparing them from the direct rain and the worst of the foul water. However, as trucks drove past, the resulting splashes of sludge were enough to make anyone’s stomach churn, and every breeze carried the persistent rot further into the city.

Alighting from his Dongfeng Mengshi, Zhou Yuanqiang’s combat boots hit the pavement, sending up a spray of filthy water that made him scowl. “Why haven’t the zombie corpses been cleared out of the city? What if they cause a contagion or trigger some kind of disease? What have you generals been doing?”

Vice-Commander Yang Zheng, who was accompanying Zhou Yuanqiang, immediately replied, “Chairman, according to the plan, the forward units advance while the idle soldiers in the rear handle cleanup. However, the situation at the front turned unfavorable, and the advance was stalled. To reinforce the push, we had to mobilize more men. Between the rotations, the soldiers are exhausted, and the sheer number of zombies is so staggering that we were forced to postpone the cleanup.”

“Pass down my order: regardless of the situation, this must be handled immediately. There can be no negligence here.”

Zhou Yuanqiang looked up. Along the way, almost everything he saw was a sea of zombie remains. “The most terrifying thing in war is when massive amounts of corpses aren’t processed. Have you considered the consequences if a plague breaks out? It won’t just be ‘heavy losses’—it will be the annihilation of the entire army. Beyond that, it would ruin the bright future our humanity has worked for.”

Seeing the severity in Zhou Yuanqiang’s tone, Yang Zheng did not hesitate. He immediately called over an adjutant to relay the Chairman’s command to the command center, instructing them to produce a disposal plan as quickly as possible.

Watching the adjutant depart, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head with a bitter smile. Fortunately, this wasn’t the Wildlands. Given the high temperatures there combined with the rainy season, one could only imagine the consequences of heavily putrefied zombie remains. If the virus were to mutate, they would be in serious trouble.

Shaking the droplets from his raincoat, Zhou Yuanqiang stepped into a skyscraper dozens of stories tall.

The building, once a magnificent three-star hotel, now had floors covered in layers of dust accumulated over several years, turning everything a dull gray. That wasn’t the worst of it; because so many soldiers were stationed inside and it was raining outside, the constant foot traffic had turned the dust and water into a black, muddy mess, much like a train station on a rainy day.

In the once-luxurious lobby, the sofas were ruined, and the ornamental plants were long dead and withered. A massive fish tank had been Reduced to a floor covered in glass shards. The reception desk was a shambles, with chairs overturned and computer monitors smashed. A tea cup sat on the floor, rattling slightly whenever a draft swept through.

Two soldiers on guard duty caught sight of Zhou Yuanqiang and immediately snapped a sharp, standard military salute.

Zhou Yuanqiang simply nodded and continued inside. The second and third floors were entertainment areas, so the soldiers were billeted starting from the fourth floor. Since the elevators were non-functional, they had to take the stairs. Strict military discipline was in effect; there was no shouting or aimless wandering.

He pushed open the door to a suite. The room smelled faintly of cigarettes mingled with a strange, musty odor—likely caused by years of stagnant air and lack of human presence. It was still habitable, though; after thirty minutes, one would get used to the scent.

The entire Eastern Front Army numbered 150,000 soldiers.

While it sounded like a massive force, for a city like Shanghai, they would barely fill a single small district. Consequently, finding quarters for the troops wasn’t difficult. This entire luxury suite, featuring three bedrooms and two living rooms, was assigned to just one squad.

With no electricity and the drizzling rain outside, the sky was overcast, leaving the room in a state of dim, natural light.

The Chairman’s face was known to everyone in the Commercial Association. Even if someone hadn’t met him in person, his image was posted everywhere, and his face was even on the Seven-Colored Currency they carried. It was impossible not to recognize him. As soon as Zhou Yuanqiang entered, the squad leader’s face lit up with excitement as he saluted.

“Squad, assemble!”

At the squad leader’s shout, the soldiers resting in the rooms rushed out and quickly formed a line. They hadn’t even removed their uniforms, and their rifles were leaned against the doorframes, ready to be grabbed for combat at a moment’s notice.

Zhou Yuanqiang returned the salute and said, “At ease, soldiers. This is your rest period. Relax.”

Despite his words, it wasn’t so easy for them to just “relax.” Seeing this, Zhou Yuanqiang simply had them break formation and sit in a circle in the living room. “Your attitude is excellent. Seeing that you maintain such high readiness even while resting makes me proud that the Commercial Association has soldiers like you.”

The squad leader, an honest-looking man, said, “Chair… Chairman, the battle is tight right now. We don’t know when it’ll be our turn to head back to the front.”

In the Commercial Association, everyone knew the Chairman was a legend. Anyone who saw him in person would be overcome with excitement. Li Xiaochuan considered himself an ordinary man; as a mere squad leader, he was an insignificant speck in the grand scheme of the Association. Without the Chairman appearing here, he might never have had the chance to be this close to him in his entire life.

Zhou Yuanqiang understood what Li Xiaochuan meant. The faint, constant sound of gunfire and explosions echoing in his ears proved that the defensive units in various sectors were currently repelling wave after wave of zombie counter-attacks. Because 150,000 troops had to face 18 million zombies in the cramped confines of a city, the pressure was unimaginable. Naturally, the soldiers resting in the rear had to be ready to reinforce the line at any moment.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s visit was intended to get a pulse on the men. Five days of being stalled had lowered morale, which would be disastrous for the campaign.

The effect of his presence was immediate. The gloom of the previous days was replaced by the excitement of seeing the Chairman. Furthermore, the stories of Zhou Yuanqiang’s heroic exploits served as a powerful motivator. In an apocalypse like this, humanity needed heroes to sustain the last shred of hope in their hearts.

One could say the times had made Zhou Yuanqiang, but equally, Zhou Yuanqiang had shaped the destiny of the Commercial Association.

With so many soldiers, it was impossible to visit every unit. After inspecting five or six garrisons, Zhou Yuanqiang appeared at the very edge of the front lines.

On the streets where his Dongfeng Mengshi arrived, massive amounts of tanks were parked along the curbs. Squads of busy soldiers were running back and forth. Those rotating back from the front were soaked to the bone, their expressions weary and their faces pale. In contrast, the fresh replacements who had just finished their rest were fully armed, letting out thunderous shouts.

Batteries of recoilless cannons, mortars, and rocket launchers were positioned just behind the front line. Repair crews were working feverishly on damaged equipment, while the operational weapons were manned by soldiers who adjusted their targeting coordinates under the direction of signalmen, unleashing booming barrages.

Fierce rocket launcher vehicles were often clustered together, launching wave after wave of salvos into the dense swarms of zombies ahead.

Small city transport airships hovered over the streets, playing a crucial role in logistics by delivering ammunition directly to the units that needed it most. In the rear, massive transport airships worked almost day and night to ferry countless tons of supplies to the front.

Facing this stalled offensive, the armory was under the most strain; the consumption of ammunition was several times higher than usual.

In urban combat, the forward command centers were generally established in skyscrapers. Within this single sector, more than a dozen different streets required defense, placing an immense burden on the troops. Zombies would surge down these roads constantly, bashing against the defensive lines. As a frontline theater commander, managing the deployment and rotation of troops was a life-or-death task.

When Zhou Yuanqiang appeared at the command center, the place was a hive of activity, filled with the shouts of signalmen.

According to wartime regulations, those busy in the command center did not need to salute the Chairman. Only a few senior commanders gave Zhou Yuanqiang a quick salute before turning back to their maps to discuss the tactical situation. They peered through monitors connected to cameras, monitoring every dynamic unfolding on the streets below.

Since this was a defensive battle, the human soldiers’ offensive wasn’t overly aggressive, and the troops operated on a rotation system.

Zhou Yuanqiang did not disturb them. Instead, he took a pair of binoculars and stood on the balcony of the command center, looking down at a major thoroughfare.

The defensive line here was composed of dozens of vehicles abandoned on the street—mostly private cars and six or seven public buses. They had been neatly aligned to form a barricade against the zombies outside. Numerous soldiers were hunkered down behind this wall of metal, firing at the frenzied undead.

The humans had only been in a defensive posture for a day and a night, but Zhou Yuanqiang could see a thick mound of corpses piled up, already over a meter higher than the vehicle barricade. Countless zombies were scrambling over these dead bodies, crawling toward the defense line.

Often, as soon as they reached the top and raised their heads, a bullet would find its mark, causing them to collapse instantly. Their limbs would go limp, and they would become just another addition to the pile of flesh for the others to climb.

Stretching past the barricade into the distance was a dark, undulating sea of zombies. Their numbers were beyond counting, an endless tide. Everywhere they went, the long-abandoned green belts were crushed. Aside from the thickest trees, even hardy, spiked plants like sisal were trampled into dust by the mindless zombies.

The rooftops of parked cars were covered in zombies; occasionally, one would slip on the slick metal and fall, disappearing instantly into the sea of thrashing bodies.

The primary targets for the artillery were these dense concentrations. Killing zombies in high volumes there reduced the pressure on the barricade by half. Otherwise, against such a dense population, the line would have buckled long ago.

Among these swarms were many High-level Zombies and Special Infected. Periodically, globs of corrosive liquid would be spat out, arching toward the defense line.

However, the soldiers were experienced in fighting zombies; they were no longer the easy prey they once were. While they struggled during offensive maneuvers, the effectiveness of Spit-Monsters and Volt-Zombies was greatly diminished in a defensive setup. Along the barricades, seven-meter-high steel scaffolding had been erected, supporting specialized, treated canvas covers.

When the corrosive liquid hit these specially made covers, it seemed to lose its potency, unable to burn through the material. Similarly, when the discharge balls from Volt-Zombies burst, releasing terrifying millions of volts, their three-meter effective radius was too small to reach the soldiers beneath the seven-meter-high frames.

These countermeasures were the reason the human soldiers could hold their ground.

As soon as High-level Zombies or Special Infected appeared, snipers stationed in the surrounding skyscrapers went to work. With shot after successful headshot, these special threats were often eliminated before they could even unleash their power, their bodies falling to be trampled into pulp by the surging horde.

“At this rate, with 18 million of them, how long will it take to kill them all?”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s brow furrowed. He began to hesitate. Was the order to preserve Shanghai at all costs actually worth it? One had to realize that relying solely on soldiers for this kind of attrition was unrealistic. To send this many zombies to hell, the use of strategic weapons was becoming a necessity.

In the Wildlands, the vast open spaces had allowed the human soldiers to employ mobile tactics. There, they could eliminate millions or even several times that number with ease using staggered strikes from 150,000 troops. But in the city, such mobile tactics were impossible. The war had ground into a stalemate.

“My original intent was to preserve this ‘Pearl of the Orient’ to keep our civilization’s legacy more complete.” Zhou Yuanqiang calculated the costs and shook his head. “If the situation doesn’t improve, what value do these skyscrapers and dead buildings have compared to the lives of my men?”

The defensive battle held out until the morning of the sixth day…

Numerous transport airships descended into the human-controlled areas, unloading crates of surface-to-air missiles. These airships looked travel-worn, having clearly arrived just at daybreak. They had crossed nearly 2,000 kilometers to deliver these weapons.

Since the appearance of the Bird Zombies, Zhang Yixian had realized the battle wouldn’t be simple. He had notified Chen Xunan to mass-produce surface-to-air missiles. To make up for the time crunch, and with the approval of Qiu Guorui and the others, anti-air weaponry from the Wasteland Military Base, the two major defense lines in the Wildlands, and the defenses of the Tianzhou Plain and Qingyuan City had been dismantled and transported to the front.

Zhang Yixian’s plan was straightforward: lure the Bird Zombies out and then use a massive, ultra-dense array of anti-air weapons to blow them out of the sky. The alternative was to trade fighter jets for them, and there was no telling how many jets they would lose before they could eliminate those hundreds of elusive, ghostly Bird Zombies.

The designated trap zone—spanning across buildings, streets, and rooftops—was teeming with busy soldiers. They were setting up anti-aircraft guns, surface-to-air missiles, and heavy machine guns, constructing a gargantuan anti-air fire net that spanned an entire district.

To ensure this lethal blow to the Bird Zombies was effective, the two super motherships and a massive fleet of the air force would coordinate with the ground defenses for long-range missile strikes, creating an interlocking death-web between heaven and earth.

Numerous UAVs took to the skies like hunters, scanning the city to locate the Bird Zombies. A decoy flight squadron took off from the forward airfield, shrieking into the anti-air zone. Once they received the ‘ready’ signal from the ground, they banked toward the uncharted depths of the city.

On the ground, tanks started their engines with a roar. Large columns of soldiers finished their assembly and began to march behind the armor, advancing step by step.

Six or seven kilometers to the rear, over a hundred ferocious rocket launcher vehicles were spread across an open field. Rows of rockets stood ready. Upon the command, they began an indiscriminate fire-saturation of the distant streets. In a spectacle resembling a grand volley, hundreds of rockets streaked into the sky simultaneously, trailing long tails of smoke as they dived toward the heart of the once-bustling metropolis.

The Crystal Warriors, ready for action, unsheathed their narrow battle blades, which glinted with a cold light under the sun. At the word of command, they surged forward, glowing with the various colors of their reinforced states.

Chapter 364: The Sharp Blade

Sunlight pierced through the city, sweeping away the shadows left by yesterday’s misty drizzle.

Twelve HY-3 fighter jets roared across the sky. This flight squadron, composed entirely of twelve elite ace pilots, displayed superb skill as they shifted from four triangular tactical formations into one large spearhead formation. Following the sunlight, the twelve jets suddenly dove from the high altitude, plunging straight toward the endless urban sprawl below.

The shrill whine of engines, coupled with the whistling sound of high-speed diving, saw the fighters flash past the streets. The powerful air currents even ripped up tattered billboards from the shops lining the road. Under the force of the wind, the sparse hair on the densely packed zombies was torn from their rotting scalps and sent dancing into the air.

Through several days of reconnaissance and analysis, it had been determined that the Bird Zombies’ hiding places were all located within high-rise buildings.

A dozen reconnaissance airships were gathered high above Shanghai. Their advanced cameras could easily capture every movement on every street below. Serving as mother machines, the airships released all their UAVs, which began meticulously searching the streets.

In an instant, the entire city became transparent to humanity.

On the roof of a fifty-story building, several parts of the deep-blue glass exterior had been shattered by impacts. These damaged areas could be seen from a great distance. A Bird Zombie trailed its mutated wings, its sharp teeth periodically exposed by its snarls. Two dim, clouded eyes and prominent ears watched twelve small black dots flying in the far distance.

As soon as those twelve black dots approached, the Bird Zombie seemed to be injected with adrenaline, its entire body trembling. it let out a wretched “wuuu-wuuu” sound that echoed throughout the skyscraper district.

As these sounds rang out, countless echoes joined in, emanating from one high-rise after another. The hideous heads of Bird Zombies poked out; as if receiving a signal, they responded one by one. Their throats, which remained relatively intact through evolution, vibrated with a sound that pierced the clouds.

The first Bird Zombie suddenly pushed off with its legs and leaped out from the broken glass window. The narrow fleshy membrane wings, mutated from its arms, suddenly snapped open during its rapid descent. The massive force of the air seemed to catch the creature, causing it to stall in mid-air. With a slight shudder of its fleshy membranes, it accelerated in a way that defied human understanding, soaring toward the sky.

With this Bird Zombie leading the way, the others followed like dumplings being dropped into boiling water, bursting out from their hiding spots.

Just as the humans had anticipated, lured by the bait, several hundred Bird Zombies hidden in the dense high-rise area emerged like bees from a hive. They pushed off from the windows of over a dozen skyscrapers and appeared in the sky, quickly converging into a swarm. They pounced aggressively toward the twelve HY-3s in the distance.

“Target has appeared. Decoys, pay attention to the luring. Maintain speed!”

The moment the Bird Zombies appeared, the reconnaissance airships in the sky quickly captured their figures.

Like a signal, every soldier within the luring zone received the order. The surface-to-air missiles were controlled by intelligent programs; even the anti-aircraft guns were semi-automatic. Only the heavy machine guns required manual operation by the soldiers. However, it was simple: their orders were to strafe the sky desperately as the Bird Zombies flew over during the missile launch. That alone would be enough.

The most critical part, however, lay with the flight squadron. They were the ones in danger.

As soon as the Bird Zombies appeared on radar about three kilometers away, the twelve pilots of the decoy squadron pulled up on their sticks, climbing rapidly toward high altitude. Having dealt with these creatures before, they knew the Bird Zombies’ attack range was approximately two thousand meters.

Their heightened senses ensured the Bird Zombies did not let these twelve fighters go. They all flapped their fleshy membranes, following them into the high altitude without the slightest hesitation.

The most terrifying thing about zombies was their capacity for sudden ambushes. If humans were prepared in advance, there was no need to fear them. Moreover, the difference between humans and zombies lay in the fact that humans possessed wisdom, while zombies lacked even consciousness, let alone intelligence.

When dealing with zombies, human tactics didn’t even need to be hidden; the lure was set out in the open. However, unconscious zombies would only follow the steps laid out for them. They didn’t know what it all meant, nor did they need to. For them, everything relied on instinct, driving them to relentlessly and recklessly kill any creature they discovered or sensed.

Precisely because of this, the twelve decoy fighters suddenly dove back toward the lower parts of the city during their high-speed climb.

The hundreds of Bird Zombies were like a flock of crows chasing twelve pieces of stinking, rotting meat. As the chase intensified, the fighters flew in undulating wave patterns, followed closely by the hundreds of Bird Zombies mimicking the same flight path, pursuing them ignorantly and relentlessly.

The two aerial carrier formations were like massive hives, releasing fighter after fighter. Minutes later, the entire sky was filled with interceptors and a vast number of fighters. They were like a moving swarm of bees flying through the sky, pouncing toward the metropolis ahead.

Meanwhile, at the frontline airfield only fifty kilometers from Shanghai, fighter jets roared down the runways and took to the skies one by one. Soon, over a thousand fighters merged with the ones released by the aerial carriers to form a fleet more massive than anyone could imagine—like a black cloud covering heaven and earth, drifting toward Shanghai.

“All units, attention. Target entering attack countdown. 10, 9…”

Through the communication system issued to every soldier, the voice of the command center’s intelligent program could be clearly heard. The tense soldiers stared fixedly at the sky. Ten seconds was only equivalent to ten breaths; at this critical moment, there was no room for error.

“5, 4…”

The roar of the jets flashed through the lure zone like lightning. Behind them, the swarm of hundreds of Bird Zombies, also flying at great speed, were already storing energy, ready at any moment to launch arc attacks with millions of volts of electricity. Under such a wild electrical assault, no conductive target could survive.

“3, 2, 1, fire!”

From atop countless roofs and between the floors of skyscrapers, thousands of surface-to-air missiles ignited simultaneously. Driven by powerful propulsion, they lunged into the sky. Battery after battery of anti-aircraft guns strafed the heavens frantically. A death net woven from the strafing of over a thousand heavy machine guns appeared, seemingly so dense that not even air could leak through.

It was almost unbelievable how soul-stirring this scene was. The fuses of the anti-aircraft guns, set to specific coordinates, exploded continuously along the Bird Zombies’ path. Meanwhile, the guided surface-to-air missiles, launched from such short range, gave the Bird Zombies no chance to react before plunging into the dense swarm.

The strafing of the machine guns was like a massive torrential rain falling from the ground toward the sky, leaving no gaps to be found.

At the same time, nearly three thousand different fighters ten kilometers away formed a formation like a rocket launcher rack. Following the sound of fire, missiles detached one by one, igniting their engines in milliseconds. The launch of over six thousand missiles, trailing plumes of smoke, was a spectacle so grand it reached an astounding level.

The scene in Avatar where a dozen attack helicopters fired missiles at the Great Tree didn’t even reach a tenth of this. One could imagine how shocking the scale of this scene truly was.

The Bird Zombies, suddenly under attack, were indeed just as the intelligence reports suggested—their agility exceeded human imagination. If it were merely two or three missiles, they wouldn’t be a threat to a Bird Zombie at all. Even against the thousands of missiles now, they performed all sorts of inconceivable maneuvers in the air.

But no matter how agile they were, what could they do? Under this trap-style attack so dense there were no blind spots to hide in, all efforts were futile.

Rather than saying the missiles plunged into the Bird Zombie swarm, it was more accurate to say the Bird Zombie swarm plunged into a pile of missiles. The massive coverage of the surface-to-air missile strike left the entire swarm trapped. Their agile, swaying flight could dodge some missiles, but often they would dodge one only to be unable to avoid another. The total catastrophe for the Bird Zombies had finally, inevitably, occurred.

With a massive “BOOM,” a flash of intense light erupted. Under the extreme pressure, even the air itself warped.

Within the blast radius of the missiles, the bodies of several Bird Zombies distorted along with the air before violently bursting apart like blooming flowers a microsecond later.

This one explosion was merely the beginning. More and more missiles made intimate contact with the Bird Zombies, blooming into flowers of death. It was like a dance in the sky, where the sound of explosions was the music, and the distorted, shredded Bird Zombies were the brilliant dancers, demonstrating to humanity the dance of death woven by thermal weaponry.

Under one wave of surface-to-air missiles, half of the swarm of hundreds of Bird Zombies vanished.

The remaining half didn’t even have time to react. Caught in the dense crossfire of anti-aircraft guns and heavy machine guns, they melted away like ice cream in the sky. Being hit by a heavy machine gun resulted at most in a bullet hole two or three fingers wide, but being hit by an anti-aircraft gun shell often tore them into two pieces. Like birds with broken wings, they plummeted toward the ground.

The rain of missiles fired by the massive fighter fleet was the final doom for the Bird Zombies. Like dandelions blown by the wind, they were stripped bare until nothing remained.

The hundreds of culprits who had threatened humanity’s air superiority were wiped out without even a chance to strike back. Their shredded bodies fell like rain—pitter-patter—onto the streets, the rooftops, the residential quarters, and the glass windows of high-rises. It was as if these remains were the only proof that the Bird Zombies had once been so overbearing under this sky.

The soldiers below were all dazed by the sight. The display of massive military force was an absolute power of destruction.

The reinforced Crystal Warriors only spared a glance at the scene of the shredded Bird Zombies before turning their eyes to the streets. For them, the countless zombies on the ground were their true battlefield. Only in such close-quarters combat could they demonstrate their greatest power. Only with the battle blades in their hands could they prove they were the strongest branch of the ground forces.

The saturating attack of the rocket launchers was like meteors falling from the sky, continuously striking the streets.

The wide roads were like farmland being plowed over and over again. Thick slabs of concrete were overturned, revealing the red clay that had been filled in years ago. The zombies on the streets were like weeds in the field, covered by the unearthed concrete and soil.

The various cars left scattered on the streets were like toys, tossed into the sky by the explosions. Some that were hit directly turned into a mess of scattered, burning parts. No matter how noble or ordinary their status had been before, whether they were imported or domestic, they all became sacrifices to the artillery fire and returned to the same status: scrap metal.

After the baptism of fire, only a small number of zombies remained capable of movement on a long stretch of the street.

On one of the main avenues, Zhou Yuanqiang’s incredibly cool armor glinted silver under the sun. The terrifyingly large giant sword in his hand was his best identification. Even a seven-stage reinforced Crystal Warrior could only manage to lift this giant sword with one hand; moving it effectively was nearly impossible for anyone else.

However, in Zhou Yuanqiang’s hands, this giant sword was no different from a toy.

At this moment, Zhou Yuanqiang stood at the front of hundreds of Crystal Warriors. As the artillery fire extended forward, he suddenly raised his symbolic giant sword high and roared, “Victory! Reclaim Shanghai! Brothers, charge with me!”

Through the command channel of the communicators, this roar reached the ears of every soldier participating in the counter-attack—whether they were Crystal Warriors, tank crews, infantry following the tanks, artillerymen in the rear, or the massive fleet of fighters aggressively pouncing over Shanghai.

As the Chairman of the Commercial Association and the hero in everyone’s hearts, this was the moment, on the seventh day, when he needed to stand forth.

Any low morale vanished. Just seeing that figure standing at the very front made everyone feel that the invincible hero was right by their side. He was no longer the high-and-mighty Chairman who held the life and death of tens of millions in his hands, but a warrior like them, a comrade-in-arms… a brother fighting side-by-side.

How could such a Chairman not win people’s hearts? How could he not move all the soldiers?

Even Zhang Yixian’s eyes held a fanatical light. In his capacity as the Commander of the Eastern Front Army, he shouted his orders: “Soldiers! Reclaim Shanghai! The general offensive has begun. Use our strength to wash away the shame of our Eastern Front Army! Use the entirety of Shanghai to restore our reputation!”

The rumbling tanks charged out. The streets, baptized by artillery and full of craters, could not hinder them in the slightest.

After Zhou Yuanqiang finished his shout and received countless responses, he had already turned and dashed toward the front of the street. The mounds of zombie corpses, stacked who-knows-how-many layers deep, could not stop the advance of the Crystal Warriors. They were like a group of legendary martial arts masters performing the ‘grass-gliding’ technique, brandishing their battle blades and running over the corpses like tigers released from a cage.

The tanks rumbled over these mountains of corpses, crushing the fragile bodies into powder as if driving through a muddy road.

With a great roar, Zhou Yuanqiang thrust his giant sword forward, skewering the first zombie that blocked his path. He didn’t stop for a second; like making a skewer of candied fruit, he soon had five or six zombies stuck on his giant sword. These zombies, whose heads hadn’t been damaged, were still struggling. With a violent swing of the giant sword, Zhou Yuanqiang sent them flying into the sky, where they slammed heavily into the buildings lining the street.

The Crystal Warriors following behind used their gleaming battle blades to cut down every zombie they passed.

With the interference from the Bird Zombies gone and air superiority regained, the air force committed its full strength. Fighters skimmed over the streets, sending missiles into dense packs of zombies. Large numbers of attack helicopters raided street after street. Military airships dropped bombs as they passed, like an old ox plowing a field, while massive amounts of incendiary bombs turned areas into seas of fire.

In the face of his soldiers’ lives, Zhou Yuanqiang ultimately chose to abandon the preservation of buildings. The much-loosened restrictions allowed the heavy firepower to act with fewer inhibitions.

Acting as the sharp blade of the assault, Zhou Yuanqiang enjoyed this battle. He knew that as Shanghai was recovered, opportunities to fight like this would become very rare. It wasn’t just because he was a man, but because he was the Chairman and the hero of the Commercial Association; at critical moments, he needed to stand out bravely.

With a 360-degree whirlwind spin, he swept several zombies into two pieces. The hearty battle, the pleasure of releasing his strength, and the blood-pumping slaughter made Zhou Yuanqiang go wild. He was as fierce as a tiger, often charging into a pack of zombies, destroying all of them in an instant before continuing his forward advance.

The street was soon filled with severed limbs and broken bodies. Wherever Zhou Yuanqiang went, he left behind a hellish tableau.

His overwhelming combat power left the Crystal Warriors behind him with almost no opportunity to act; they could do little more than run hard behind him. The route Zhou Yuanqiang took far outpaced the dozen other assault paths on other streets.

Seeing this at the command center, everyone looked at each other in shock. They had heard of the Chairman’s ferocity, but only a few had actually seen it. Most had only seen it in movies. Many had assumed those were just special effects—a hero created through heavy editing to ascend to a pedestal, a mere god-making campaign by the Commercial Association.

But at this moment, they knew they were wrong. The reality was even more terrifying than the imagination. Wherever the silver light reflected from his armor went, no matter what kind of zombie it was—even Giant Zombies—nothing could stop Zhou Yuanqiang for a moment. His combat strength was who-knows-how-much stronger than in the movies.

Everyone felt a chill in their hearts. They couldn’t believe that the usually smiling, somewhat lean Chairman possessed such a terrifying and violent side.

Chapter 365: The Nest

The advance proceeded with irresistible force. By mid-afternoon, more than half of Shanghai had fallen under the control of the Eastern Front Army.

On one street, a dozen soldiers clutching their rifles surrounded a moving mass. It was a Bio-Germ Battery, a creature that looked somewhat like a slime. This slow-moving Special Infected traveled at a pace slightly slower than a normal human walk, resembling a person in their sixties or seventies.

It moved like a sand maggot, its body rising in undulating layers of flesh. The sight was enough to make anyone’s stomach churn with revulsion.

“Squad leader, this is the thing they call the ‘human slayer,’ a Bio-Germ Battery? It’s damn disgusting. Look at how it squirms.”

One soldier spat contemptuously at the Bio-Germ Battery. Once you got close to one of these things, you didn’t have to fear its terrifying devouring germs. It was truly a case of “a dragon from afar, a maggot up close.” Once someone closed the distance, it lacked any other means of attacking.

Driven by instinct, this type of zombie didn’t charge humans. Instead, it tried to pull away.

Because its movement speed was pathetically slow, the dozen soldiers of the squad surrounded it, critiquing its appearance. To prevent it from launching an attack at distant soldiers, they only had to prick it with a bayonet whenever it stopped. It would then reflexively shrink back into its crawling form and try its best to scramble away.

Nearby, columns of passing soldiers glanced at the massive thing, occasionally letting out a whistle before disappearing back into the surrounding streets. they still needed to push forward; half of Shanghai was still in the hands of the zombies. At their current speed, they would control the entire city before nightfall.

This squad was part of the first wave’s vanguard. After fighting for half the day, they had been ordered to rotate back.

Xiang Keyan said with a cold face, “I specifically asked the company commander to let us keep this one. Don’t be fooled by how fierce they were just now; they don’t have infinite ammo. Usually, after firing five times, they turn into a pile of mush.” He jabbed his bayonet into the Bio-Germ Battery, puncturing a hole from which a trace of green liquid seeped out. He explained further, “Those devouring bio-germs are secreted from this liquid. If you give them time—say, a day’s rest—they become those terrifying human slayers again.”

“Squad leader, why keep it alive? At least a hundred of our brothers died at its hands.”

At the mention of this, the entire squad grew incensed. If the squad leader gave the order, they would riddle it with bullets instantly.

Just half an hour ago, nearly half of their vanguard company had fallen to this single Bio-Germ Battery. The soldiers who had witnessed it would never forget the scene: a glob of dark green liquid would smash down, instantly turning into a drifting cloud of green mist.

The soldiers caught in that mist had let out blood-curdling screams, falling silent moments later.

When the green mist dissipated, the dozens of soldiers inside were gone, leaving only skeletal remains. Their bodies had been stripped of every scrap of flesh, leaving bones without so much as a speck of gristle. They remained in the positions they had held when they fell, demonstrating the terrifying speed at which the devouring bio-germs worked—they killed almost instantly.

A single blast of bio-germ liquid had wiped out more than a platoon. Who wouldn’t want to tear it apart?

Without hesitation, Xiang Keyan led his men in herding the Bio-Germ Battery into a house that was burning from a shell blast. “Brothers,” he said, “simply shooting it would be too mercy for it. Though it has no consciousness and was once one of us, I think only this way can eases the pain of losing our comrades.”

Under Xiang Keyan’s direction, the dozen soldiers forced the Bio-Germ Battery into the blazing building and threw in more combustible materials. The fire roared, consuming the creature’s body. Amidst the “crackle and pop” of rendered fat, the Bio-Germ Battery let out a piteous howl. Soon, the liquids in its body evaporated; it shriveled into a lump and was finally reduced to ash.

Xiang Keyan watched in silence until the end, thinking of his fallen brothers—familiar faces that were now gone.

“Go in peace, brothers. I’ve avenged you. I hope in the next life, we’ll be brothers again.”

…

All of Shanghai was like a giant cake being bitten away piece by piece. By 5:00 PM, only one area near the coast remained. Within it, countless zombies surged, making a final, desperate stand. High-level zombies thrashed about like fish caught in a net.

A massive number of Special Infected congregated here. Their varying abilities dealt heavy blows to the soldiers, and heavy casualties mounted in these final moments.

Every type of zombie imaginable—those recorded by the Commercial Association and those yet unrecorded—could be found here. Even the breathtakingly beautiful heads of Corpse Queens flashed occasionally within the high-rise buildings. Towering Giant Zombies charged at human soldiers with earth-shaking roars.

Densely packed gross monsters, Volt-Zombies, and Spine-Zombies launched wave after wave of ranged attacks, sending scores of soldiers to hell. Tanks often managed only one or two shots before being struck by discharge balls, turning into heaps of scrap metal amidst arcs of electricity.

Facing the final fortress of Shanghai, Zhou Yuanqiang, who was on the front lines, felt the frenzied counterattack of the zombies most viscerally. The sheer volume of Special Infected brought about a fierce exchange of fire that no one had anticipated. To take this ground, they were essentially trading soldiers’ lives for zombies’.

Zhou Yuanqiang decisively called a halt. The troops retreated like a receding tide, pulling back beyond the zombies’ attack range.

Strangely, these mindless zombies did not pounce forward as they usually did. Instead, they watched silently as the humans retreated.

As the humans pulled back, the zombies responded like a disciplined army, engaging in frequent maneuvers. Zombies with ranged capabilities hid in safer corners, while thick-skinned, tank-like zombies moved to the front to shield them. A massive number of ordinary zombies—mere cannon fodder—appeared on the streets to serve as the most basic stumbling blocks for any human advance.

The behavior of the zombies caused the watching generals’ eyes to nearly pop out of their heads.

Only Zhou Yuanqiang knew that since there was a Corpse Queen, there must be a Zombie King. He had experienced the Corpse Queen’s control abilities before, but it appeared the Zombie King was many times more powerful. These maneuvers felt as if they were being directed by a human commander.

The tactical shifts looked like a top-tier gamer controlling his units in a strategy game.

But Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t understand one thing: if they had such strong command capabilities, why had the zombies they encountered along the way acted like headless flies, letting themselves be slaughtered? If they had always possessed this ability, humans would have been wiped out long ago given the zombies’ overwhelming numbers. Or, at the very least, humanity would be huddled in a tiny sliver of space, struggling to survive.

Looking into the nature of zombies, it wasn’t hard to find the reason for this.

Special Infected all possessed a sort of protection mechanism. For instance, the guards of a leader zombie would only attack once an enemy entered a certain radius. This Zombie King likely possessed a similar protection mechanism.

It was only after the humans had broken through all of Shanghai and compressed them into this final corner that the Zombie King’s instinctive protection mechanism was triggered. To avoid annihilation, it had to resist. This mechanism had stimulated and activated its latent instincts, resulting in this terrifying tactical layout.

Yes, only that could truly explain why things were happening this way.

The losses sustained from attacking just this one area were staggering. Zhou Yuanqiang was now certain that this part of Shanghai was the zombies’ ultimate headquarters—their final sanctuary. Once this place was erased, the strategic goal of liberating Shanghai would be achieved, and the first phase of the reclamation plan would conclude perfectly.

Thinking of the zombies’ frantic counterattack, Zhou Yuanqiang knew that conventional means would cost the lives of many soldiers—something he could not tolerate.

“Leave this to me. Have the Strategic Department prepare the high-pressure crystal warheads.” Zhou Yuanqiang knew that against this zone, only strategic weapons like these would work without throwing away soldiers’ lives. What did the loss of this entire district matter? If it was gone, it could be rebuilt.

Beacons could technically be air-dropped or fired into the zone.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang had his own plans. As a visitor to this apocalypse, how could he pass up the chance to meet the Zombie King face-to-face? Furthermore, now was the time to once again cement his unshakable status. While a solo mission like this might not be the “wisest” move, it was the kind of act that won the absolute loyalty of every soldier.

He might not manage the army much, but opportunities like this allowed him to tighten his grip on the military in a unique way.

His Armor Art had reached level seven; even a heavy sniper rifle couldn’t pierce it. Its defensive power was nothing short of monstrous. With that level of defense, did he really need to worry about his safety? Volt-Zombies were dangerous, but given his high speed, they wouldn’t have the chance to show their power.

Carrying two beacons on his back, Zhou Yuanqiang leaped and ran across the rooftops under the gaze of thousands of soldiers.

If anyone asked the soldiers who their true god was at this moment, they would shout Zhou Yuanqiang’s name without hesitation. This hot-blooded scene was a temptation no man could resist; in this moment, it surpassed even the sight of a stunning naked beauty.

Li Xiao used his superb filming techniques to record this authentic, heart-pounding moment. How could he miss such a grand occasion? To film the entire history of human reclamation into a documentary had become his greatest life’s ambition. Perhaps in a hundred years, people would forget the zombies, but they would never forget these precious documentaries. His name would live on in history alongside them.

Going all out, Zhou Yuanqiang allowed the generals and soldiers watching the monitors to witness the birth of a superhuman. He sprinted across rooftops, clearing gaps of fifteen to twenty meters in a single bound. To dodge zombie attacks during his mad dash, he ran along the vertical walls of buildings as if he were on level ground.

The Crystal Warriors stared wide-eyed. They couldn’t believe that without the enhancement of crystals, the Chairman possessed such terrifying power. His giant sword seemed weightless, barely affecting his movements at all. They had seen with their own eyes that no zombie could even leave a scratch on his unique armor.

After plunging into the zombie horde, Zhou Yuanqiang unslung one of the beacons from his back. After activating the guidance function, he swung his giant sword in a 360-degree arc, sweeping away the surrounding zombies. Before the ranged-attack zombies could fire, he disengaged and pushed deeper into the nest.

…

When he reached a supermarket, Zhou Yuanqiang stopped and charged inside, brandishing his giant sword.

Several Leader-class zombies were clustered together; their guards lunged at Zhou Yuanqiang using either invisibility or instant strikes. Unfortunately, they couldn’t even touch him. Zhou Yuanqiang’s giant sword sliced their leaders in half. Following the principle that the guards die when the master does, they all collapsed onto the floor like withered flowers.

The interior of the supermarket was cluttered with scattered goods. Aside from the few leader zombies he had encountered upon entering, not a single zombie was in sight.

Zhou Yuanqiang set down the second beacon. After activating it, he walked toward the fifth floor step by step. His intuition told him the Zombie King was up there.

The fifth floor was the supermarket’s office area. When Zhou Yuanqiang stepped onto the floor, he looked down the empty corridor. Without hesitation, he walked in until he reached a corner, where another hallway appeared.

What greeted Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes sat on a row of chairs previously used for resting. It was a boy about fifteen or sixteen years old. His withered, black little hands were frantically pressing the buttons of a handheld game console. The console had long been broken—perhaps from being pressed too violently—as several buttons were missing and the batteries had long since fallen out from the back.

A head of jet-black hair, though withered, remained on his head. Even his clothes and sneakers were well-preserved, likely because he had never left this place.

When Zhou Yuanqiang entered, the boy turned his head and stared. In normal times, he would have looked like an innocent child. But the face that turned toward him was pitted and scarred; the mouth was half-rotted away, and the neck exposed strings of tendons. The throat was decayed, revealing the windpipe…

If he hadn’t felt a palpable sense of danger emanating from the boy, Zhou Yuanqiang would never have believed this was the Zombie King that ruled all of Shanghai.

Given the Corpse Queen’s repulsive appearance, Zhou Yuanqiang had imagined the Zombie King would be even more extreme—at least an ultra-large-scale mutation like something out of Alien. Yet what he saw now looked remarkably human, just severely decayed. If he appeared among ordinary zombies, you would never imagine this was the terrifying Zombie King.

During a split second when Zhou Yuanqiang dithered, the boy who had been sitting on the chair vanished.

With a ripple in space, the boy appeared right next to Zhou Yuanqiang, looking up at him. If his eyes had held any life, Zhou Yuanqiang would have bet the boy was asking, “How are you, mister?” Unfortunately… that was impossible. As the boy appeared, he held the game console in one hand and reached out toward Zhou Yuanqiang with the other.

“Gravity Manipulation?”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s brow furrowed. Although the boy’s reaching hand was slow, Zhou Yuanqiang found that his own movements had become like a snail’s.

An ordinary person would have been pinned to the ground by this tenfold gravity, left at the mercy of the Zombie King. But was he an ordinary person? The answer, of course, was no. Since the creature had gifted him with Gravity Manipulation, he saw no reason to be polite and activated his own Gravity Manipulation in return.

The boy was instantly flattened to the ground, unable even to use teleportation to escape. Zhou Yuanqiang’s giant sword swung down, severing the boy’s head. Then, with a heavy stomp, he crushed the small head. The immense force caused it to shatter like a watermelon dropped on the floor.

“It’s not that I’m overly cruel. It’s that if I didn’t do this, I would be the one ending up like that. With Gravity Manipulation and teleportation, who knows what other tricks you had? All I needed was to reveal the face of the Zombie King; I didn’t need to learn every single one of your skills.”

Zhou Yuanqiang murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of apology.

The struggle with the Zombie King seemed mundane and lacked passion. Yet Zhou Yuanqiang knew this was his most perilous fight. Becoming a Zombie King was no simple feat. Regardless of whether the King took the form of a small boy or something else, it possessed an undeniable and terrifying lethality.

Now Zhou Yuanqiang also understood what the boy’s instinctive talent was: gaming. The zombies outside were simply the units in his game. His activated instincts allowed him to apply the logic of a game to reality, deploying the zombies under his control exactly like a strategy game.

Regrettably for the boy, he hadn’t been given the chance to fully utilize his abilities. Otherwise, would things really have been this simple?

When Zhou Yuanqiang walked out of the supermarket, the zombies outside, having lost their central control, began to fall into chaos. As the Corpse Queen’s proxy control took over, they gradually returned to a state of calm. However, it was too late to matter. The moment Zhou Yuanqiang stepped out of the supermarket, he notified a fighter jet circling above, waiting for his final command.

As Zhou Yuanqiang cleared the area, two missiles detached from the fighter jet and plummeted toward the zone below…

Chapter 366: Mountains of Gold and Seas of Silver

(Prologue: The fictional setting of this story establishes that the central bank’s gold storage center was founded in Pudong, Shanghai. As of 2010, foreign exchange reserves intended to increase gold reserves by 4,000 tons; in this fictional narrative, that increase has been completed and stored at the Shanghai Gold Storage Center. This is purely for narrative purposes and is not intended to reflect reality.)

In the post-apocalyptic Shanghai night, you could not hope for the vibrant nightlife, the shimmering lights, or the galaxy-like streams of traffic found in the modern era.

Across the ruins of Shanghai, aside from the armored vehicles patrolling the streets, there was only the roar of trucks busy hauling loads of zombie corpses. These remains were being transported to a cremation site established over ten kilometers away. As was standard practice, the crystals would be extracted before the bodies were incinerated, with the ashes eventually buried twenty to thirty meters underground.

Dozens of military airships hovered in the sky, each equipped with five or six powerful laser searchlights that constantly swept the streets below, turning wherever the beams touched into brilliant white patches. Numerous attack helicopters flew low over every street, their lights equally vigilant in inspecting every inch of the ground.

Despite a full day of combat, no one relaxed. Due to the rapid pace of the advance, it was inevitable that some stragglers would slip through the cracks. Many were hidden within skyscrapers, the narrow alleys of old residential districts, or exposed sewers—any place could serve as their hiding spot.

While their numbers were few, the primal nature of zombies meant they could still cause unexpected incidents.

The recovery of the entire city of Shanghai signified a great many things.

For instance, the territory ruled by the Commercial Association now stretched from Shanghai westward across to the uninhabited regions of Xinjiang and Tibet, and southward to the border of Vietnam. Nearly two-thirds of the entire mainland was now in the hands of the Commercial Association. Aside from the forces of the General in the north, the various small settlements across the continent had become a thing of the past. All survivors would undergo a unified migration, concentrated in the regions of South China and Central China.

According to the plan, except for major resource points where troops and workers would be stationed, other regions would be abandoned due to the extreme scarcity of humans, becoming truly desolate. In time, cities would stand empty. With neither zombies nor humans, vegetation would grow unchecked, and they would become heavens for animals.

In places like the Tibetan Plateau, vegetation would grow wild, eventually turning into primeval forests. In the future, the grasslands would be home to countless wild cattle and sheep. More than half of the continent would return to its primitive state. Perhaps in several decades or over a century, once the human population had flourished again, would these places be developed once more.

As for whether to move the capital to G Province or Shanghai, there was still no final decision, but it was certain that the relocation of the capital was a reality.

Perhaps to the people of this world, the massive amounts of cash stored in banks were utterly useless. The only currency recognized in the Commercial Association’s territory was the Seven-Colored Currency. Whether it was US dollars, Euros, Yen, or Pounds, they had all become nothing more than waste paper.

However, as every street was captured, any location involving banking or finance was strictly controlled by soldiers. No one was permitted to take a single step inside without a direct order from the Chairman, under penalty of treason. The guarding soldiers had the authority to shoot to kill on the spot.

As a world-class financial center, one could imagine Shanghai’s achievements in finance. Banks from all over the world, as well as trust centers and large funds, had established Asia-Pacific offices in Shanghai. Some powerful banks had even built reserve centers in the city, storing vast quantities of currency and precious metals.

Before the apocalypse, the mainland’s gold reserves had jumped to the second largest in the world, reaching approximately 5,660 tons—surpassed only by the United States’ 8,000 tons. It was such a massive reserve that had allowed the Renminbi to strengthen, becoming the world’s third major circulating currency. The gold reserve center established in Pudong, Shanghai, was world-famous for housing over 4,100 tons of gold. Much like Fort Knox in the United States—which held roughly 4,570 tons of gold and numerous national treasures—it was one of the two greatest gold storage centers on Earth.

The allure of gold was naturally massive enough to exceed human endurance.

As the holder of 4,100 tons of gold, the reserve center was the ultimate temptation. To describe 4,100 tons of gold, one could only use the phrase “mountain of gold.” It had taken centuries of historical development to accumulate such a staggering amount. Often, a few gold bars were enough to make people fight to the death; many had lost their lives for far less.

So, how many people would be driven mad by a storage center containing 4,100 tons of gold?

From the moment Pudong was captured, two regiments of Crystal Warriors and one sniper regiment received special orders to protect the entire gold reserve center. The snipers were distributed throughout the buildings surrounding the center, forming a massive surveillance network of 2,000 men. The two regiments of Crystal Warriors wore heavy battle armor, standing outside the reserve center like a wall of steel.

Shanghai’s status as the world’s second-largest gold reserve center was known to everyone globally, let alone within its own country.

From its inception to completion, the gold reserve center had been like Fort Knox—never open to the public. Only on the day its establishment was finished was a single photo of the interior released. That one photo caused the center’s reputation to eclipse even that of Fort Knox.

The content of the photo was simple, showing only a corner of the reserve center, but that single corner brought a shock that transcended all else.

In the photo was a mountain built from countless gold bars, and the base of the entire mountain was a sea of silver bricks. Tales of “mountains of gold and seas of silver” had been passed down since ancient times, but they were always regarded as myths or immortal magic. Yet here, a living mountain of gold and sea of silver appeared before the people—not as magic, but as a reality.

At the time, anyone who saw that official photo went mad. In an instant, that image became the very definition of wealth.

What was the value of 4,100 tons of gold in Renminbi? This was a staggering wealth in the trillions—an amount that even the wealthiest individuals could never hope to surpass. The world’s richest person was nothing more than a speck in its presence. Beyond its actual market value, as a gold-standard backing for currency, what kind of security did 4,100 tons of gold provide?

In the hands of a nation, gold was often valued not for its surface price, but for the latent power beneath that surface.

“Get out of the way! Get the hell out of my way, or I’ll open fire!”

Outside the Pudong reserve center, an entire infantry division had surrounded the site. However, this time they weren’t there to protect it; they were coming for the gold. Unfortunately for them, the three special forces regiments had arrived first, leaving them no chance to enter.

The one speaking was the commander of the 32nd Regiment of that division. He brandished his submachine gun, aiming it at the line of a hundred Crystal Warriors blocking their path.

“Without the Chairman’s orders, anyone who takes a single step inside will be treated as a traitor and executed on the spot.”

As the equivalent of the Imperial Guard, the Crystal Warriors were the vanguard in war and the palace guards in peace—the most loyal trump card in the Chairman’s hands. Lei Longhai, the commander of the 1st Crystal Warrior Regiment, was known as the “Iron Man” for his volatile temper and feral fighting style.

He stared down the 32nd Regiment commander. Although they held the same rank of commander, a Crystal Warrior regiment commander enjoyed the same treatment as a division commander. In other words, in terms of status, Lei Longhai was equivalent to a division commander with the rank of Brigadier General. How could a regular infantry regiment commander compare?

When thinking about the mountain of gold and sea of silver inside the center, anyone with even slightly weak willpower would be driven to recklessness.

“We just want to go in and take a look. We’ll leave immediately. We have absolutely no intention of embezzling or taking the gold privately. For the sake of being brothers-in-arms, give us a break.”

Lei Longhai’s voice was icy. “Without the Chairman’s orders, there is no discussion. I can see you’re a veteran of the Commercial Association; you should know what kind of man the Chairman is. Are your intentions really as you say—just to take a look and leave? Go back and tell your superiors, whose eyes have been blinded by gold: even if they managed to get the gold, how long would it take to move 4,100 tons? Could they escape the search of the Association’s massive air fleets? Even if they somehow managed to break away, who would they spend their gold with when the Commercial Association is about to rule the entire continent? Would they just sit there holding their gold and wait to die?”

The commander’s face shifted through several shades of color before he suddenly nodded to Lei Longhai with a look of gratitude. “Thank you!” he said. He led his men away without staying a moment longer, and soon the entire division vanished at the end of the street.

Anyone who heard Lei Longhai’s words snapped back to their senses, for what he said was the absolute truth.

The only ones who could possibly touch this mountain of gold and sea of silver were a few select individuals within the Commercial Association. How could anyone else have the capacity to take it? Gold was precious, but one needed to be alive to spend it.

Yet, some people were still so focused on the gold that they forgot everything else and succumbed to madness. Just after the infantry division left, an armored regiment appeared. They seemed like a pack of lunatics; facing the Crystal Warriors, they showed no fear, completely ignoring the fact that they were facing the Chairman’s direct subordinates.

“Everyone, get out of the way! Do you really think you can stop our entire armored regiment? Hmph, don’t think your battle armor is that impressive; it’s nothing in front of our armored vehicles. Given that you’ve also rendered service, if you don’t clear off now, don’t blame us for getting rough.”

Faced with this frantic shouting, Lei Longhai was unmoved. He suddenly turned and roared, “First row, reinforced state!”

Dozens of multi-colored lights flared up. In that instant, the aura they emitted struck awe and fear into the heart of every observer. Even facing an armored regiment, the Crystal Warriors did not flinch, gripping their battle blades as they stared coldly at their opponents.

“You really aren’t afraid to die?”

The soldiers of the crazed armored regiment seemed bewitched, as if they were determined to push into the gold reserve center. To them, they would kill anyone—god or buddha—who stood in their way.

Suddenly, a helicopter descended from the dark sky. A figure that still gleamed with silver light even in the black of night stepped down from the attack helicopter. His voice followed, heavy with the tone of someone lamenting one’s lack of potential: “Who isn’t afraid to die?”

Under the searchlights, anyone who wasn’t blind could see clearly who had arrived. That suit of armor that no one in the Commercial Association could replicate, and that terrifyingly large giant sword—it was the unmistakable mark of the Chairman.

Indeed, the armored regiment could lose their cool and go mad, but they could never forget the heroic image of the Chairman that had been drilled into their minds since the day they joined the Association. Zhou Yuanqiang represented the god of the Commercial Association, perhaps even a being beyond a god.

“Chai… Chai… Chairman!”

It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over them. The hot-headed soldiers and the officers of the armored regiment alike began to stutter. Their previously fearless momentum vanished the moment Zhou Yuanqiang appeared. They became like a flock of sheep, devoid of will, waiting in terror for their judgment.

“Go. I do not wish to execute former heroes at the most celebratory moment of the Commercial Association. Remember, you were never here.”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s words were like a long-awaited rain. The terrified soldiers didn’t dare stay for even a second. The entire armored regiment vanished into the night even faster than they had arrived. That they escaped this disaster was largely due to Zhou Yuanqiang’s excellent mood. Otherwise, given their motives, they would have at least lost a layer of skin if they didn’t die outright.

“Chairman!” Lei Longhai offered a military salute. Zhou Yuanqiang nodded and said, “Longhai, you did well. Our warriors have shed enough blood today. It brings me comfort to see you weren’t as impulsive as usual.”

Lei Longhai’s body trembled slightly. If it weren’t for the thick battle armor, his emotional expression would surely have been visible.

Entering the reserve center, the nine independent power grids remained operational even after seven and a half years. These grids were not something an ordinary person could bypass. The entire reserve center was built deep underground, so robust that even a nuclear strike could not threaten it.

A massive alloy door weighing 30 tons stood in their way. Although it relied on mechanical activation, to prevent potential theft, it took three hours for the door to open enough for a single person to pass through. Once the door was activated, if the alarms hadn’t been cleared beforehand, the alert system would trigger immediately.

Consider this: a door that takes three hours to open. That was more than enough time for police, SWAT, or even the military to respond numerous times. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that all seven major military regions could deploy fighter jets to the Shanghai sky within those three hours.

Unless the entirety of Shanghai—or the whole country—fell, the gold reserve center was absolutely secure.

Zhou Yuanqiang stood within the now-disabled power grid as a large team of technicians worked busily. He didn’t want to forcibly destroy such a sophisticated system; his intention was to take over the facility, reset the programs and passwords, and finally see the legendary mountain of gold and sea of silver for himself.

After half a day of hacking, the nine grids were re-inputted with new intelligent control programs. Now, the alloy door that took three hours to open was reaching its final stage. As a sliver of golden light emerged from the door’s gap, everyone present knew that the true face of the mountain of gold and sea of silver was about to be revealed.

Standing outside as the door opened, everyone felt as though their vision was filled with an endless golden light, more dazzling than the sun itself.

Led by Zhou Yuanqiang, dozens of people—including the newly arrived Zhang Yixian and Xu Yuhai—witnessed this historic moment. The reality was exactly like the photo: a massive mountain of gold stood quietly in the center of the vast storage hall. Below it lay a layer of silver bricks of unknown depth.

From the moment they saw it, everyone lost themselves. Even Zhou Yuanqiang’s mind and eyes were filled with nothing but the image of that golden mountain and silver sea.

Driven to a frenzy, everyone present rushed toward the treasure, hugging the cold metal blocks, laughing and crying as if they had gone mad. Truly, no one could resist such a temptation; it felt like something that didn’t belong to the mortal world.

However, those allowed inside were people of high standing. They quickly regained their composure, looking at each other and laughing before beginning to critique the sight. Aside from excitement, the desperation and lust for gold they had just shown vanished. It wasn’t that the desire was gone, but they knew this was not something they could ever claim for themselves. It was better to be open-hearted and let the greed go.

Zhang Yixian and Xu Yuhai didn’t stay long in front of the gold. They hurried away, as they still had mountains of work waiting for their completion.

“Boss, to see this scene in my lifetime… I can die with no regrets.”

Those were their parting words. To Zhou Yuanqiang, they were speaking from the heart. He saw that they were rational, unlike the lunatics who would throw away their lives for this gold. Didn’t they realize that even if they could get in, they could never get out?

After the others left, Zhou Yuanqiang did not leave immediately. For him, this was the harvest season. This entire gold reserve center was the reward for his three plus years of hard work in the apocalypse. The center was secure, but Zhou Yuanqiang only truly trusted his own storage space. Gold was only safest when held in his own hands.

When Zhou Yuanqiang finally left, the alloy door—which required only a second to close—sealed shut, giving no one else a chance to look inside. At the same time, the area remained heavily guarded by elite troops. But who would ever know that the mountain of gold and sea of silver that once existed within had already disappeared?

Perhaps when that 30-ton door is opened once again, people will realize that a new mystery of the world had been born.

Chapter 367: The Legend of the Racing God

“I’m a trillionaire! A trillionaire who’s infinitely more badass than some billionaire!”

Inside his hotel room, Zhou Yuanqiang roared at the top of his lungs. Just the thought of the four thousand one hundred tons of gold and the two thousand two hundred tons of silver stored in his pocket dimension made him feel completely pumped with adrenaline. To Zhou Yuanqiang, even if he controlled the Commercial Association’s wealth worth trillions of dollars, that wealth consisted of fighter jets, tanks, and other assets. How could that ever compare to the raw excitement of thousands of tons of real, physical gold?

Now that all of Shanghai had been reclaimed, there wasn’t much left for Zhou Yuanqiang to do personally. Even the matter of moving the capital had been settled by his decree: the headquarters would be moved to G Province.

The reason was simple: G Province had established military bases and a vast array of military facilities. They only needed maintenance and repairs to be put back into use, saving the Commercial Association from having to build new ones from scratch. Furthermore, the countless factories in G Province were the Commercial Association’s greatest asset today. As for Shanghai, it would still be a target for the Commercial Association to relocate its population, but the distinction was purely for political reasons.

The relocation of nearly ten million people would take time. How long it would last and how the population would be distributed were not things Zhou Yuanqiang needed to worry about; his subordinates would handle the details. With the inland controlled areas now largely cleared of zombies, the migration could be carried out via transport airships, trains, long-distance buses, passenger planes, and other means.

Due to transportation logistics, the migration wouldn’t happen immediately. It would begin once the railways were repaired and hundreds of passenger planes finished their maintenance.

In short, Zhou Yuanqiang had no interest in the trivial, messy details of the apocalypse. At this stage, the Commercial Association’s momentum was unstoppable; no one could shake its foundations. Not even the General in the north, who controlled millions of people, could do it.

Previously, countless zombies had acted as a barrier between the two powers. Now that the zombies were being cleared out in massive numbers, the areas where the two territories met could no longer be ignored as they once were.

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t worried about this. The one who should be anxious wasn’t him, but the General. Even if the General’s power was growing at a frantic pace, he was still far behind the juggernaut that was the Commercial Association. Three and a half years of high-speed development had left him trailing far in the distance.

It was the General who had to decide whether he wanted peace or war.

Having returned to the modern world, Zhou Yuanqiang took a long, hot bath. After the slaughter, even his powerful abilities left him feeling a bit weary. Even though they were zombies, they still had human forms; killing them felt much the same as killing actual people.

“I spent a whole day killing… was it a thousand? At least eight hundred, right?”

Lying in the bathtub, Zhou Yuanqiang muttered to himself with a touch of self-mockery. In truth, he knew he had killed far more than a thousand. The Frenzied Giant was like a tireless war machine; the number of zombies he had cleaved in two with his giant sword likely numbered over ten thousand. This wasn’t an exaggeration—considering one 360-degree spin would drop dozens of zombies and the streets were packed tight, his path of carnage easily accounted for thousands.

Ten thousand was actually a very conservative estimate.

In the dead of night, Shanghai’s cityscape was no less vibrant than it had been at dusk. The endless stream of traffic had not diminished much. With the competition from buses gone, a multitude of taxis roamed the streets like they had found fertile soil, tirelessly chauffeuring men and women through the city’s neon-lit nightlife.

As Zhou Yuanqiang enjoyed his rest with eyes closed, his phone rang.

He picked it up to see Yan Yuhe’s name on the screen. Answering it, he said, “It’s so late. Haven’t you gone to sleep yet?”

“I can’t really sleep. Aren’t you awake too?”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “I just got back to Shanghai. If you can’t sleep, why don’t we go for a walk? My treat for a midnight snack.”

“You’re already back in Shanghai?” On the other end, after clarifying Zhou Yuanqiang’s location, Yan Yuhe immediately tossed her phone aside, swapped her pajamas for a tracksuit, and dashed downstairs. She pulled her car out of the garage and sped off.

The sleeping Yan Shangyang woke up, shook his head with a bitter smile, and turned over. He muttered something unintelligible and sighed.

By the time Yan Yuhe’s pink Lamborghini appeared before Zhou Yuanqiang, he was already dressed and leaning against a pure white Bugatti Veyron with a smirk.

Stepping out of the Lamborghini, Yan Yuhe looked at the Bugatti in surprise. “What, you rushed off just to go buy a supercar?” Living in the top social circles, she was naturally familiar with cars and knew exactly how much a Bugatti Veyron was worth.

In truth, this Bugatti Veyron was something Zhou Yuanqiang had snagged from a luxury villa’s garage during the conquest of apocalyptic Shanghai and tucked into his pocket dimension.

He didn’t actually know much about this specific model. Online rumors about the Bugatti Veyron varied wildly: some said it cost 120 million Renminbi, others said 1.5 million USD or 1.8 million USD, and some even claimed 20 million USD. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t care about the exact price. People could say whatever they wanted; its value lay in the fact that everyone knew it was a symbol of status.

A white Bugatti Veyron was almost never seen on the market. Much like a Bentley, sometimes you couldn’t buy one even if you had the money.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t offer an explanation. His pocket dimension was filled with all sorts of supercars from the Shanghai conquest. If he wanted to, he could practically host a supercar exhibition. Just clearing out Pudong District had netted him dozens of supercars. He figured if he hit the high-end residential areas, he could probably scavenge over a hundred without any problem.

Seeing him just smiling without answering, Yan Yuhe complained, “You risked your life for that money. Couldn’t you be a little more frugal?”

“It’s inconvenient not having a car. Look at your friends—they’ve been whispering behind my back that I’m just a pretty boy and telling you to watch out for me, haven’t they?” Zhou Yuanqiang was in an exceptionally good mood today. He said, “Come on, try this car out and see how it feels.”

With supercars, some people attached license plates, while a rare few didn’t bother. In this part of town, no traffic police would dare pull one over for a check. Besides, the kind of person who drove a supercar wasn’t exactly going to stop just because a cop told them to. Pulling them over was just asking for a headache.

Yan Yuhe parked her pink Lamborghini in the hotel’s plaza and climbed into the Bugatti Veyron. She took a deep sniff and frowned. “Why is there a faint smell of dust… and a hint of mustiness?”

Having been sitting for seven years, the fact that it still ran after being fueled up was already a miracle to Zhou Yuanqiang. It would have been truly spooky if there hadn’t been a bit of a musty smell. Of course, before Yan Yuhe arrived, Zhou Yuanqiang had cleaned it up and sprayed perfume inside. Who would have guessed her nose was that keen?

“It’s probably just been sitting too long. What do you feel like eating?”

Yan Yuhe thought for a moment. “There’s a place my father took me to once. The food is great, but it’s a bit far.”

Zhou Yuanqiang patted the steering wheel. “Far is perfect. Why buy a supercar if not to let it run? Besides, it’s late. Out of the city, there’s less traffic—it’s the perfect time to test its performance.”

Under Yan Yuhe’s direction, the Bugatti Veyron roared to life. With over a thousand horsepower, it claimed the title of the fastest car in the world. Compared to this machine, other supercars with their measly 250 or 260 kilometer-per-hour speeds were simply incomparable.

If you haven’t driven one, you can never imagine the comfort and the way it feels as if you’ve merged with the car, becoming its very soul.

The direction Yan Yuhe pointed was actually outside the Shanghai suburbs, about 70 kilometers from the city center. But that wasn’t an issue. People with money and cars didn’t mind driving 70 kilometers for a midnight snack they deemed worthy. On the expressway, 70 kilometers was barely a thirty-minute drive, right?

However, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t take the expressway. Instead, he sped along a winding level-two highway that looked like a coiled dragon.

The expressway was too busy and wouldn’t allow him to truly test the Bugatti Veyron’s capabilities. On this secondary highway, the open line of sight and the visible lights in the distance meant he didn’t have to worry about sudden surprises.

“This is a favorite spot for some people to race.”

Yan Yuhe had attended races here before, so she knew that the middle of the night was when the princelings were most active. As Zhou Yuanqiang’s Bugatti Veyron appeared, a large group of young men and women were sitting by the roadside, laughing and occasionally chasing each other around.

There were only ordinary cars here and a few sports cars; it was obvious the main group had already set off.

When the white Bugatti Veyron appeared like a white spirit in the night, the young people who spotted it let out wild screams. Bugatti Veyrons were rare in Shanghai, and this was the first time they had ever seen a white one.

“I wonder who bought this one. It’s so badass.”

Unfortunately for them, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t stop. He whistled through the path the crowd cleared for him. As they entered the winding mountain section of the road, he said to Yan Yuhe, “Hold on tight. I’m going to give this thing a proper test.”

He floored the accelerator, and the Bugatti Veyron’s engine let out a massive roar. The headlights flashed through the darkness like a streak of light. The speedometer needle instantly climbed to a terrifying 180 kilometers per hour. On a mountain road like this, such a speed was nothing short of suicidal.

“Ahhh!”

Yan Yuhe’s scream echoed inside the car. The sheer speed brought a momentary feeling of weightlessness to the soul. Racing here wasn’t really about speed, but technique. In these mountain curves, whoever had the skills would lead. Usually, 150 kilometers per hour was considered the absolute limit of high speed.

But Zhou Yuanqiang had hit 180 kilometers per hour just at the start, and in the blink of an eye, he had crossed the 200-kilometer-per-hour mark. How could Yan Yuhe not be pale with terror?

She had vastly underestimated Zhou Yuanqiang’s abilities. With reaction times dozens of times faster than a normal human and terrifyingly precise skills, this road was no challenge for him. Two hundred kilometers per hour looked horrifying, but with the Bugatti Veyron’s performance, he was in his element.

With one inconceivable drift after another, he cleared the turns almost without slowing down. In just ten minutes, he had actually caught up to the tail end of the racers ahead.

“Holy shit, who’s being so badass? They actually caught up!”

The princelings driving the last few supercars cursed as they looked in their rearview mirrors. They couldn’t even tell what kind of car it was. As the car tore past them in a heartbeat, the fleeting silhouette left them jaw-dropped.

The sound of people gulping could be heard; no one could believe the Bugatti Veyron was moving at such a terrifying speed. But the real reason they were swallowing hard was because there was a sharp turn ahead. At that speed, no one should be able to make it. The only outcome should be flying off the mountain road and tumbling down the cliff.

Under their watchful eyes, however, the Bugatti Veyron performed an unbelievable drift. After leaving behind a thick cloud of white smoke from the tires, it rounded the bend and vanished.

“Oh my god, that’s impossible!”

Screams rang out. Possible or not, what they had seen was fact. There was no scene of a car flying off the mountain. When they finally rounded the bend themselves, all they could see in the distance was a pair of red taillights. They considered themselves veterans of the supercar scene for over a decade, but now they realized they couldn’t even keep the other guy’s taillights in sight. The difference in skill was like heaven and earth.

“How… how are you doing this?”

Yan Yuhe was equally stunned by the inconceivable display. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she would have thought whoever told her about it was a madman. She realized that just when she thought she was beginning to understand him, every new encounter made Zhou Yuanqiang more of an unsolved mystery. Instead of being peeled back, the layers of his secret only grew more profound.

Just what kind of secrets are you hiding? Fighting skills that not even the world’s most elite Special Forces could beat, and racing skills better than a Racing God… which one is the real you? As if making a decision, Yan Yuhe clenched her fists. Regardless, I will wait until you’re willing to share your secrets with me.

Maintaining a speed dozens of kilometers faster than anyone else, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t just leave the tail end behind; he blew past the middle pack in an instant and started gaining on the three cars in the lead.

Seeing a car catching up from behind, the three leaders felt immense pressure and pushed their speeds even higher. But they were destined for disappointment. Their cars were far inferior to the Bugatti Veyron in terms of performance, and how could they possibly compare to a freak like Zhou Yuanqiang?

They were all wealthy and powerful; they cherished their lives. They might race, but they would never gamble with their lives.

The question was, was Zhou Yuanqiang gambling with his life? The answer was a definitive no. With his inhuman constitution, the wonders of his Armor Art, and his ability to teleport at any moment, a car crash like this would be less significant to him than a minor trip and fall. As for Yan Yuhe, with his protection, even if the car flew off the road, he was confident he could keep her from taking a single scratch.

In a mountain race, there is no comparison between those who fear death and those who do not.

An extra burst of acceleration pushed the speed to an incredible 250 kilometers per hour. When a turn appeared, he braked sharply, performing a heart-stopping drift that once again left only his taillights visible to the lead cars. And just like the racers at the back had seen, by the time the leaders rounded the corner, even the taillights were gone.

From that night on, a legend of a “God of Racing” began to circulate through the social circles of Shanghai’s elite princelings. That white Bugatti Veyron became the mark of the Racing God. His technique, his speed, and his utter dominance became an insurmountable peak.

Unaware that he had become a legend, Zhou Yuanqiang hit a straight stretch of road once clear of the mountains and ramped up to 300 kilometers per hour, truly experiencing the charm of a supercar. However, in his view, playing with supercars seemed a bit dated. After all, he played with fighter jets back in the Commercial Association.

The world always said that supercars were a game for “real men,” the most thrilling of sports.

But to Zhou Yuanqiang, a supercar wasn’t nearly as thrilling as a fighter jet. Think about it: flying at supersonic speeds, reaching two thousand kilometers per hour—what kind of feeling was that? Or skimming through mountains and valleys at six or seven hundred kilometers per hour, occasionally performing a “dragonfly touch” on the water or flying inches above the ground… how could a supercar compare?

The only reason people said otherwise was because ordinary people didn’t have access to fighter jets, let alone the ability to use them as toys.

Damn, if some arrogant prick tries to show off his supercar to me one day, I’ll just pull out a fighter jet and scare him to death. Let’s see how awesome he thinks he is then. So what if your car is worth a few million? My fighter jet costs thirty or forty million USD.

While driving, Zhou Yuanqiang was lost in his own fantasies. Even if I don’t bring a fighter jet, driving a Rhino Tank through the city would be pretty badass too. I wonder, if I drove a tank past a traffic cop, would they even dare to try and stop me?

Now that was an interesting question…

Chapter 368: The Ripe Fruit

Ever since Shehad began following Zhou Yuanqiang, he had fully embraced his new role. Once nothing more than an ordinary neighborhood thug, he found a second lease on life at the age of fifty-five. As the temporary overseer of the Steel Park whenever Zhou Yuanqiang was away from Somalia, he managed a massive industrial complex, a workforce that had exceeded thirty thousand, and a security force of two thousand.

In Somalia, whenever the Steel Park was mentioned, the first name that came to mind—after Zhou Yuanqiang himself, the naturalized Somali-Chinese owner—was Shehad.

In modern Somalia, who didn’t know about the Steel Park? Throughout the entire country, regardless of political affiliation, every Somali citizen dreamt of reaching the capital, Mogadishu. They would do everything in their power just to set foot inside the Steel Park and become one of those enviable workers.

What a minimum monthly wage of 50 US dollars meant in a place like Somalia was something any person who had endured hardship understood all too well. In years past, those who raised large flocks of sheep would sell their entire herd only to receive about 5 to 6 dollars per head. A whole year of grueling labor would net them a mere 150 dollars.

It was hard to imagine how the Somali people, who relied on livestock for survival, managed to support an entire family on just 150 dollars a year.

Just thinking about thirty thousand workers earning a total of 1.5 million dollars in wages every month made Shehad’s head spin. If the Steel Park were producing goods for sale, Shehad would have thought it well worth it. However, since its inception, the only revenue the Steel Park had seen was from an order of 5,000 tons of steel per month sent to China by the steel plant; other than that, they hadn’t earned a single cent.

The Steel Park had been expanded time and again, until it subtly appeared more like a capital city than Mogadishu itself.

A year and a half of frantic expansion had acted as a stimulus for the entire Somali economy. A large number of factories and craft workshops, both large and small, had sprung up around the Steel Park, effectively pulling Mogadishu into the industrial age. It was worth remembering that just eighteen months ago, the people of the capital still had to toil in the fields just to scrape together enough food to survive.

How many people in Somalia directly benefited from the Steel Park? Those thirty thousand workers represented twenty to thirty thousand families who had entered a life of relative prosperity by local standards, with food and clothing no longer a concern. The daily consumption of these families, in turn, drove the economic benefits of the entire capital. The various factories anchored to the Steel Park also required labor, adding another ten thousand workers to the count, not to mention the staff involved in raw material collection, mining, and more.

Shehad knew that more than a million people were now influenced by the Steel Park.

As the second-in-command of the Steel Park, Shehad was one of the most influential figures in all of Somalia. Even in territories held by other warlords, everyone extended an olive branch to him. Even the President of Somaliland in the north had secretly sent representatives to discuss the possibility of cooperation.

Shehad was fifty-six this year. His heart had long since been tempered by the years, leaving him without the reckless ambition that exceeded his abilities, unlike many younger men. Shehad clearly recognized who had given him everything he now possessed.

Perhaps he was too content with the status quo, but Shehad understood the value of satisfaction.

All six of his children worked at the Steel Park. Privately, the Boss had granted them a salary of 500 dollars a month, placing them in roles as security supervisors or managers in key departments. For children with little education or specialized skills, this was an absolute godsend.

It wasn’t just his children; their families and relatives were included too. As long as they were capable of working, they were brought into the Steel Park. Though most were just ordinary workers, compared to their past lives and the people outside, what more could they ask for?

Everyone in his home village knew Shehad was a celebrity now. The looks of disdain they once gave him had vanished. When people came knocking on his door, it was always because they wanted a job at the Park. Shehad didn’t mind this at all; being able to enjoy such prestige in his old age and bring some benefit to his fellow villagers was no small feat.

Moreover, the Boss had agreed to this. As long as they followed the rules of the plant, the Boss didn’t care about these arrangements.

Whenever he walked the streets of Mogadishu or visited the village, everyone cast envious glances his way. With that alone, what reason did Shehad have to be dissatisfied? Furthermore, he received a monthly salary of 1,000 dollars, and whenever he completed a task assigned by the Boss, the bonus was usually 10,000 dollars.

To be honest, receiving 1,000 dollars already made Shehad feel a bit guilty, as he felt his daily tasks of managing the operations of the Steel Park didn’t require that much effort. Besides, the Boss had so many other things to spend money on.

Thinking about the maintenance of the two thousand armed security personnel in the Steel Park, the cost of their weapons alone was enough to cause a headache. Yet, the Boss’s investment in this area went far beyond that; the security team was equipped with an abundance of machine guns and over a dozen armored vehicles.

And that was just the surface. Under the table, the Boss was training five thousand soldiers in a restricted zone, where the investment was truly staggering. Dozens of tanks, dozens of attack helicopters, over a hundred armored vehicles, and hundreds of trucks. Shehad had no way to calculate how much money that cost.

Take a single attack helicopter, for instance—one that closely resembled an Apache. Shehad had looked it up online; a fully armed Apache cost over 30 million dollars. He remembered that his hand had trembled so much he could barely hold the mouse. What did 30 million dollars for a single aircraft even mean?

Shehad had counted them; there were as many as sixty-seven attack helicopters here. Looking at the long string of zeros on a calculator made his mind go blank. What if you added the fifty-five tanks? Those were heavy tanks worth over 10 million dollars each. The hundred-plus armored vehicles were hundreds of thousands of dollars each, plus the hundreds of trucks…

Shehad felt like the world was going mad. He couldn’t understand how the Boss had acquired these weapons so silently, nor where so much money had come from.

Reflecting on the Boss’s Chinese identity, Shehad had grown anxious for a time. He feared the Boss was merely an agent sent by some foreign power with the goal of subverting Somalia, which would plunge the country—which had finally seen a glimmer of peace—back into the fires of war.

With the Boss’s current military strength, no other warlord could compare. More importantly, the Boss’s relationship with the local tribes was completely intertwined; they were all tied to the same war chariot.

However, Shehad soon pushed those worries aside. When the Boss had noticed his unease, he had taken Shehad through the various facilities in the steel plant, pointing out the lathes and manufacturing lines, explaining them one by one. When they reached the warehouses filled with mountains of components, Shehad finally understood why the Steel Park didn’t seem to have any “business.” Once assembled, those parts became weaponry.

“Shehad, let me ask you a question. How do you think Somalia can be fully unified and enter a state of permanent peace?”

Faced with this question from the Boss, Shehad had no answer. Problems that so many leaders couldn’t solve were beyond the comprehension of an ordinary man like him. He knew his own limits; he could barely manage a small factory, let alone answer a question of such magnitude.

Shehad remembered that the Boss had only smiled before asking another question: “Do you think you are happy now? Are the people who benefit from the Steel Park happy?”

To this question, Shehad didn’t hesitate. He shouted “Yes!” at the top of his lungs.

“Since you feel happy and have hope for your lives, then this path is the right one. Peace doesn’t always have to be achieved through war; war is merely the final resort. The entire Steel Park, every factory here, serves the defense industry. What we produce are the Rhino Tanks, the attack helicopters, and the armored vehicles you’ve seen. They aren’t just merchandise; they are our own equipment.”

Shehad remembered being stunned at the time.

“In Somalia, what do you think we should develop to make the people happy? Raising a few pigs or sheep? Or leading a group of craftsmen to do needlework? No, none of that can bring real change to Somalia. We need to develop heavy industry, to produce the things the world needs most. Only then can we stimulate the Somali economy and lead the country out of its current predicament. Like other nations, we can have a future without war or internal strife, where people are well-fed and clothed, allowing Somalia to stand tall and proud among other nations…”

At that moment, Shehad was awestruck. He didn’t know why the Boss was doing this, but he believed that someone who could bring all this about would be seen as an angel in the eyes of the Somali people, even if he were a devil to others.

Shehad had asked a very foolish question then: “What if other forces try to stop us? They certainly won’t want to see the day they lose their power.”

“Anyone who blocks the happiness the people need most is an enemy of the people. Against enemies, the guns and cannons in our hands are the voice we use to communicate. We must use weapons to defend our happiness and use our blood to fight for the happiness we need. Anyone who stands against us is an enemy and will be crushed by us.”

Yes, happiness. Defending one’s own happiness. Their happiness must not be destroyed by others.

Shehad felt that he was standing at an unprecedented height at that moment, looking over all of Somalia like the great figures of the past. It was then that he truly saw Somalia for what it was: a land carved up by warlords, a forest of political parties, a web of complex religious beliefs, and tribes as numerous as snakes. More than that, it was a collection of destitute villages, cities that looked like villages, and people constantly threatened by war.

“If what the Boss says can come true, I am willing to become a devil.”

Shehad was just a small figure, but he possessed a patriotic heart. He knew exactly what the Boss was bringing: a chance to fundamentally change Somalia. Regardless of the Boss’s ultimate goal, as long as the people could live in peace and stay away from the flames of war, that was enough.

Thus, Shehad found himself utterly devoted, doing everything for the sake of the Steel Park. From the factories to the massive warehouse complexes, and the shipyard nearing completion, he poured his heart into improving security and management.

Shehad understood that the Somali people were inherently kind. The Steel Park had given them a profound opportunity, and they truly cherished everything about it. In their hearts, the Steel Park was a sacred place, and they would never allow anyone to destroy it.

To leverage the massive crowd influenced by the Park, and acting with the Boss’s ultimate goal in mind, Shehad began visiting tribes in central and southwestern Somalia to build rapport. At the same time, he befriended officials in the capital’s Transitional Government. He even dared to make contact with al-Shabaab, who surrounded the capital.

It was through Shehad’s efforts that the Steel Park maintained its neutral, high-speed development, unaffected by the outside world.

However, since the beginning of May, Shehad’s heart felt as though the African rainy season had arrived, filled with overcast skies. In the year-round drought and heat of Somalia, he felt a chilling cold. Another pillar of his faith had come crashing down.

Shehad had received news. Faced with the increasingly sophisticated and expanded Steel Park, someone had finally lost their patience and wanted to harvest this ripe fruit.

What he found most intolerable was that the first to reach out was the UN-recognized Transitional Government. According to information from reliable sources, the big shots of the Transitional Government, who worked in a neighboring country, wanted to seize the Steel Park. They planned to use its economic power to expand their miserably small forces, buy equipment, and train a viable army to exercise the authority a unified government should possess.

The Transitional Government’s idea was good, but it was built on the sacrifice of the Steel Park, which Shehad could not tolerate.

What could a bunch of bureaucrats from the Transitional Government actually achieve? Even if they were given the economic capacity of the Steel Park, corruption was a certainty. How much would actually go toward training soldiers and buying equipment? Besides, Shehad didn’t believe they had the capability. Just look at what they had done—or failed to do—in the years since taking office.

A president who refused to even stay in his own country’s capital, a president who viewed his own life as his top priority—could he be a good president?

The Steel Park was actually located on the plains north of Mogadishu, outside the territory controlled by the Transitional Government. The only connection was that the Boss held the rank of Major in the Transitional Government. But one could not forget that this was al-Shabaab territory. How could they allow the Transitional Government to pluck a fruit growing on their own turf?

It was foreseeable that al-Shabaab would receive this news before long, leaving the Steel Park caught in the middle.

Thinking of the Transitional Government’s pitifully small force—mostly equipped with aging, donated weapons from other countries—Shehad felt a sense of dread. There were armored vehicles and tanks in the capital, but they belonged to the peacekeeping forces, not the Transitional Government. Given the government’s true strength, were it not for the peacekeepers, they would be a joke. Could a government that controlled almost no territory even be called a government?

Since receiving the news, Shehad had been trying to call the Boss’s mobile phone. He couldn’t get through the first few times, making him as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, dialing over and over again.

Perhaps the heavens were moved, for the call finally connected, and the Boss’s familiar voice came through. Shehad immediately reported everything he had heard in detail, along with his own concerns. It had been an entire night since he received the news. Shehad was certain that al-Shabaab had also obtained the information; they had their own intelligence operatives.

Zhou Yuanqiang, who was listening to Shehad’s report, happened to be having a late-night snack with Yan Yuhe. He stopped eating, put down his chopsticks, gave Yan Yuhe an apologetic look, and stood up. He walked out onto the balcony, gazing into the vast darkness of the night, and murmured, “Is it finally time?”

In truth, Zhou Yuanqiang had long anticipated this situation. Given the scale of the Steel Park and his status as an immigrant, it was impossible for them not to be tempted.

But wasn’t it a bit late to show their hand now? He had five thousand soldiers who, after a year and a half of training, could be considered elite troops. Whenever he wished, he could assemble a mechanized force equipped with a hundred and fifty tanks and a hundred attack helicopters. His pilots, who had trained day and night, could take to the skies after a short period of adaptation.

Hadn’t the past year and a half given him sufficient time for preparation? It wasn’t so much that the fruit was ripe as it was that he was ready. He was just waiting for them to come and pick it, giving him the perfect excuse.

“The Transitional Government is extremely inefficient,” Zhou thought. “If they haven’t made a move yet, but al-Shabaab hears they’re planning something, al-Shabaab will likely strike first with their ability to mobilize quickly. That doesn’t quite fit the plan.” Thinking this, Zhou Yuanqiang cracked a smile. He spoke into the phone in Somali, “Shehad, I have a task for you. Go find your old friend Hepburner. Have him convince the Transitional Government to strike at us ahead of schedule… I suspect he’ll be more than happy to follow our lead if it means getting a hefty sum of money out of the government’s pockets.”

Shehad was shocked, but he didn’t ask questions. He knew that if the Boss had spoken, he surely had a plan. He nodded and said, “As you wish, Boss. I’ll get on it immediately.”

Chapter 369: Big Boss, please don’t mess with people like that!

Closing the flip-phone, Zhou Yuanqiang leaned against the railing of the balcony. The smooth, silk-like material of the railing felt cool to the touch. Looking down at the boundless night view below, the mountain ridges looked like beasts hiding in the darkness. The night breeze blew gently, carrying a hint of a chill.

Zhou Yuanqiang was still not quite used to the life of the wealthy. Driving seventy kilometers to reach this palace-style hotel built on a mountaintop just to eat an exorbitantly expensive late-night snack felt surreal. Compared to his old habit of squatting at a street stall and eating three to five yuan rice noodles for supper, reality felt absurd.

He truly understood now why Yan Shangyang had once said he couldn’t possibly afford to support his daughter. Now, Zhou Yuanqiang finally got it.

Thinking of the call Shehad had just made, the smile that had been on Zhou Yuanqiang’s face just moments ago turned cold as frost. Although he had known this outcome was coming, the feeling of anger still flared up when it finally arrived. He knew that states would eventually try to swallow up enterprises that were out of their control, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon in Somalia, even with that tiny Transitional Government.

“Do they really think my thirty thousand workers at Steel Park—and I myself—are just for show?”

Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly laughed again, the chill on his face vanishing. Wasn’t this exactly the result he had been waiting for? Even if this outcome hadn’t arrived on its own, wouldn’t he have found a way to use money to entice those big shots to make a move against him?

As he had thought before, he needed an excuse that other countries couldn’t interfere with to realize his original plan.

Somalia served not just as a tool for selling arms, but as a tool for protecting himself. Possessing such incredible secrets, he needed a place that could shield him. He didn’t trust any nation, nor did he trust anyone else; he only trusted himself.

“Only by using an entire country as my protective umbrella can I truly be safe.”

That was Zhou Yuanqiang’s original plan. To achieve it, he needed an entry point. Initially, he had targeted Mozambique, but its unified government meant he wouldn’t have many opportunities, and it would take too long to reach his goals. Somalia’s endless political chaos was precisely what he valued.

To ensure this umbrella had enough power to protect him, he had to make it strong—so strong that any individual or nation would have to pay a massive price to take it down. Only then would he be safe. Building Steel Park was only the first step. Controlling the entire Somali government was the second, and then the third…

Steel Park was Zhou Yuanqiang’s foundation. The manufacturing lines he had assembled there had produced countless parts over the year. All they needed was assembly, and they would become fighter jets and tanks. They were his power in the modern world.

With the Apocalypse Commercial Association acting as a massive behind-the-scenes factory, the construction of Steel Park had essentially cost him nothing. The vast number of military factories, production lines, and precision lathes had all been brought over from the Apocalypse Commercial Association. If not for the early operational issues with the workers, the output probably would have doubled by now.

Zhou Yuanqiang had put immense effort into Steel Park and his future arms business. He had trained 1,500 secret special forces in the deep mountains, sending them repeatedly into developed countries to kidnap technical personnel. He hadn’t touched engineers from major military enterprises yet, as he didn’t want to cause international trouble so early.

Despite this, the arrival of these kidnapped technicians had allowed Steel Park to make a qualitative leap. Modifying production lines and overcoming key technical hurdles were no longer issues.

For all of this, what Zhou Yuanqiang needed to provide was heaps of US dollars. The workers needed money, and the kidnapped technicians were paid heavily to settle them down. Then there was the hardware—he had even brought in tidal power equipment, built independent power plants, and brought an entire solar power station from the Commercial Association.

It could be said that Zhou Yuanqiang was building Steel Park just like the Apocalypse Commercial Association in the post-apocalyptic world. The difference was that the roles were reversed: the Apocalypse Commercial Association provided infinite support for his construction in the modern world. As more and more cities were conquered in the apocalypse, the supplies were becoming unimaginably vast—too much for the Association to consume or use.

All of this required a better platform for distribution.

For Zhou Yuanqiang, the modern world was that platform. With over six billion people and over a hundred countries, wasn’t it a vast, endless market? With the cost-free supplies from the Apocalypse Commercial Association, Zhou Yuanqiang could wage price wars and dumping campaigns against any company or country.

“Somalia isn’t just an arms platform; it’s the future sales platform for the Apocalypse Commercial Association’s goods. I must hold it firmly in my hands.”

He clenched his fist silently, suppressing these thoughts. Zhou Yuanqiang turned back to the dining table. Regardless, the plan had been set in motion. Whether it could play out according to his script depended on whether Shehad could successfully lobby the garrison officers in the capital to make the Transitional Government act first.

Yan Yuhe keenly noticed that something was wrong when Zhou Yuanqiang returned. Recalling the phone call he had just taken, she asked with concern, “Did you run into some trouble?”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and nodded. “A small problem at Steel Park in Somalia, but it’s fine. I’ve already given orders to handle it. If nothing unexpected happens, I can wait until after your birthday to go handle it personally.”

Yan Yuhe hesitated for a moment before her expression softened. “If it’s really something troublesome, your career is more important. My birthday doesn’t matter; there’s always next year.”

“We’ll see how it goes!”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t refuse. No one knew what the variables in Somalia would be or if he would need to return immediately. He gave Yan Yuhe an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry. Something unpleasant always seems to pop up at the most important moments.”

Yan Yuhe winked playfully. “As long as you tell me what your birthday present is, I promise I won’t be mad.”

“Oh!” Zhou Yuanqiang slapped his forehead and spread his hands like a foreigner, shrugging with an apologetic tone. “It’s a good thing you mentioned it. I just realized I haven’t prepared a birthday gift for you yet. I’m doomed, completely doomed.”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s acting was convincing, and since he had indeed been very busy the last two days, Yan Yuhe’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

This time, it was Zhou Yuanqiang’s turn to stick his tongue out and laugh. “Just kidding. Your gift has been ready for a long time. But since it’s a birthday gift, you shouldn’t find out what it is until the day itself, right?”

After finishing their snack, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t ask Yan Yuhe to stay at the hotel. Instead, he watched her drive away.

The next day, after a good sleep and a quick wash, Shehad called. When the call connected, Shehad’s exhausted voice came through. “Boss, everything is settled. Hepburner has agreed to do as we requested.”

When Shehad called last night, it was around eight or nine in the evening in Somalia. One could imagine that Shehad hadn’t rested at all, spending the whole night moving through the circle of officials in the capital to complete Zhou Yuanqiang’s task.

Zhou Yuanqiang could imagine that the officials Shehad visited were probably the most confused people in Somalia.

The reason was simple: with the Transitional Government’s decision, Steel Park had plenty of reason to be anxious. To them, Shehad—the number two figure—coming to visit in the middle of the night was surely to ask them to undo this unfavorable situation or pressure the President to keep Steel Park autonomous.

But their expectations were destined to be dashed. Shehad appeared anxious about Steel Park, even frantic. However, after some trivial pleasantries, the script Shehad played out was actually to ask them to influence the Transitional Government to hasten the nationalization of Steel Park.

At that moment, the officials Shehad visited almost thought it was April Fool’s Day or that they were still dreaming. Who in the world would be such a fool to want their own property swallowed up? But strange things happen every day, and today was particularly odd.

However, anyone who could survive in that danger-filled capital was a slick old-timer. In an instant, they assumed they understood what was going on. They figured the number two man of Steel Park was looking to cash in during the chaos, and having received the news, he couldn’t wait to make his move.

With that logic in mind, they naturally took the money and agreed wholeheartedly. They never expected to get a handsome income for doing such a simple favor. They would probably be laughing in their sleep tonight—it was like a meat pie falling from the sky.

Shehad didn’t bother to explain his true motives to them. He couldn’t find a reason to explain himself anyway, so it was just as well that they came up with one for him. People in politics were indeed heartless; they would sell you out in a heartbeat.

Having finished everything, and to avoid delaying the Boss’s plan, Shehad called Zhou Yuanqiang as soon as he left the last influential official’s residence. He knew the Boss would have more instructions. Given the enviable wealth of Steel Park, the Transitional Government would move very quickly.

“Well done!”

Zhou Yuanqiang praised him. “But it’s not time to rest yet. There are a few more things to do quickly. Personally visit the several tribes we cooperate with and talk to their elders. Also, visit the religious parties we have good relations with and convey our message. Try to act as innocent as possible to gain their sympathy.”

Shehad nodded and noted it down, then asked cautiously, “Should we use our connections in the southwest?”

Zhou Yuanqiang pondered for a moment before shaking his head. “The connections in the southwest are still too weak. Let’s not use them. Besides, the southwestern region doesn’t influence the capital. In short, your task is to make everyone believe we’ve been victimized the moment the Transitional Government makes its move. Let everyone know we are the aggrieved party.”

“Understood, Boss!”

“Also, we have that security force of 2,000 men who follow our every command; that’s enough to keep Steel Park secure. Don’t use the 5,000 troops we control yet. What you need to do is prepare the public opinion front. Make sure that whenever I need it, I can mobilize a massive outcry against the Transitional Government. Also, make sure you control the voices of the million people affected by Steel Park.”

Though these arrangements seemed scattered, they held a hidden lethality. Only when they erupted would one realize that their power surpassed that of guns and ammunition.

Clearly, Shehad was a very clever man. With a little thought, he understood Zhou Yuanqiang’s plan. His eyes lit up and he smiled. For him, Zhou Yuanqiang’s plan was undoubtedly the most suitable and the one with the least loss.

The power Shehad wielded wasn’t as simple as it appeared on the surface, so he knew exactly what to do. After hanging up, he didn’t even consider resting. Instead, he took his subordinates and hurriedly left Steel Park, disappearing into the night.

Having deployed everything, Zhou Yuanqiang’s mood naturally improved. He tidied himself up and drove the incredibly impressive Bugatti Veyron out of the hotel garage.

The roar of the engine was booming in the garage. Even for security guards living in a prosperous city like Shanghai, this apex of supercars wasn’t something you saw every day. They never expected to see such an awesome car in a regular hotel garage.

As they watched the pure white Bugatti Veyron vanish at the garage exit, they couldn’t help but stare, mouths watering. In their exaggerated words: “This car is so damn thrilling. Just looking at it gets you going. If I could touch it, I wouldn’t care if my hand got cut off. If I could drive it… I could die with no regrets.”

The white Bugatti Veyron was indeed flashy to the extreme. While Lamborghinis were famous supercars, in terms of pure presence, they were nowhere near a Bugatti Veyron. One could imagine how much attention this plateless Bugatti Veyron drew.

A traffic policeman on duty didn’t hesitate to pull over a Toyota. The unlucky owner could only get out of his car.

“Why didn’t you stop that pure white sports car just now?”

The policeman didn’t even look up as he checked the Toyota owner’s documents. He sneered, “When you can afford a sports car like that, I’ll act like I didn’t see you even if you crash into another car in front of me.” He patted the hood of the Toyota. “Whose fault is it that you’re only driving a two or three hundred thousand yuan Toyota?”

The Toyota owner, nearly coughing up blood from anger, could only point a middle finger at the vanished silhouette of the white Bugatti Veyron. “Is having a sports car that big of a deal?” But he quickly pulled a long face. “It’s not my fault I can’t afford a sports car. Why are they checking cars so early in the morning? What bad luck!”

Zhou Yuanqiang, of course, had no idea about this interlude. He was actually a good citizen. The reason he ran a few red lights, sped in front of traffic police, or drove the wrong way on a non-motorized vehicle lane was just to see if the internet rumors were true—that owning a supercar like this meant you could do whatever you wanted.

Reality proved that unless a traffic cop’s head was on backwards, they would indeed gorgeously ignore the Bugatti Veyron. As long as you didn’t kill anyone, they didn’t care how you drove. After all, the tiny fine they could collect from someone like this was nothing more than a drop in the ocean. Plus, their superior might make them apologize while respectfully seeing the person out of the Traffic Bureau doors, only to get a lecture afterward. If they ran into someone with a hot temper or an arrogant personality—like a Shanghai “princeling”—well, their hard-earned uniform might just get stripped off.

Controlling someone like that was just looking for trouble. Whether experienced or not, traffic police generally ignored their existence.

Once he had proven this, Zhou Yuanqiang lost his arrogant streak. In this kind of traffic, no matter how good his skills were, he couldn’t guarantee everyone else would be as skilled. You might not hit others, but others might hit you. If the Bugatti Veyron actually got hit, it wouldn’t necessarily break his heart, but repairs were a hassle. If it wasn’t repaired, the mark would stay—how could he drive it then?

And if an accident happened, would he have to use spatial teleportation in front of everyone and vanish from the car? That would be ridiculous. The state machine would dig up his ancestors, his family, and all his relatives, then drag him off to be sliced up for research.

Zhou Yuanqiang always believed that a happy life was about living as you pleased; that was the only way to enjoy it.

It was this whim that led him to stop the 100% head-turning white Bugatti Veyron on the side of a street. Zhou Yuanqiang got out and walked up to an elderly man selling shumai and tofu pudding who was stunned by the sight of the car. Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “Sir, two orders of shumai and two bowls of tofu pudding. I want to eat one bowl and pour the other out, eat one order and throw the other away!”

At those words, the citizens eating shumai, buns, and tofu pudding at the stall were so stunned they practically fell over.

“Big Boss, please don’t mess with people like that!”

The broken citizens looked up at the morning sky with groans and complaints… What a seriously badass guy!

Chapter 370: Weights and Measures

By noon, Zhou Yuanqiang, who had been wandering aimlessly, seemed to have become a target for the local supercar elite. As a result, twenty to thirty top-tier sports cars trailed behind him, forming a luxury caravan rarely seen in Shanghai.

Lucky citizens who witnessed this couldn’t let such a spectacle pass them by. In an instant, phones and cameras were aimed at the long convoy of elite vehicles.

“What is going on?”

Zhou Yuanqiang truly didn’t understand. These supercar owners acted as if they had a personal vendetta against him, following him wherever he went. On several cars, young men and women were screaming at him, shouting frantically. It seemed they were saying, “It’s him! It’s him!”

The most pitiful ones were the traffic police who discovered the situation; they had no idea how to handle it.

Good grief, these were twenty or thirty supercars. Looking at the license plates on some of them, the officers felt like they were about to faint. Some were top-tier “rich second-generation” kids, others were princelings—was there even one among them who didn’t possess immense influence? If anything went wrong, the officers’ careers would be over. Thus, the police could only cautiously escort them from the side.

Any questions of snobbery or being “lackeys” were pushed aside. Right now, they only wanted to protect their jobs and keep their enviable salaries and benefits.

With the police escorting them, an outsider might have thought some high-ranking official was out on an inspection. This phenomenon began to frighten Zhou Yuanqiang. Normally, he wouldn’t care one bit. But the problem was that he carried too many secrets now. This kind of high-profile attention was the last thing he wanted. If it caught the attention of certain departments and they invited him to “have tea,” should he go or not?

Without hesitation, and regardless of the fact that he was on the streets of central Shanghai, Zhou Yuanqiang slammed on the gas. In three seconds, the car climbed to 130 kilometers per hour. Like a spirit snake, he moved swiftly through the streets with unbelievable technique. The car body seemed possessed of a soul, twisting and weaving through gaps.

“It appeared! It appeared! The technique of the God!”

The young masters in the back became ecstatic, letting out bursts of screams.

Many who hadn’t participated in last night’s race didn’t believe the legend of the “God of Racing.” It would be one thing if just one person said it, but every single person who participated swore they saw the God appear. That flash of white, the unimaginable drifting technique, the inconceivable movement of the car—all were things only a god could achieve. Taking sharp turns at over 200 kilometers per hour was absolutely beyond the human realm.

And so, this scene unfolded. When a white Bugatti Veyron was spotted on the streets, friends called friends to come and witness the God of Racing together.

At first, they thought they might have found the wrong person, and as more supercars joined, the convoy seemed a bit too flamboyant. Just as they were considering whether to give up and disperse, the white Bugatti Veyron ahead suddenly let out a terrifying engine roar. Right there on the city streets, it began to perform what looked like a dance of death to an ordinary person.

Many of them knew about the Bugatti Veyron; its terrifying speed was something other sports cars simply couldn’t surpass.

While the young masters were boiling with excitement, the traffic police nearby almost had their hearts jump out of their chests. The sudden acceleration of the white Bugatti Veyron caught them off guard. When they saw the speedometer on the patrol car showing it had hit 130 kilometers per hour, they almost thought they had misread it.

The officers’ first thought was that this guy was surely seeking death.

What did it mean to reach such speeds in the city center? Usually, driving at 30 or 40 kilometers per hour was already risky. But this guy had pushed it to 130. The officers could already foresee the white Bugatti Veyron making “intimate contact” with some unlucky car or giving a “hot kiss” to a roadside building.

Thinking of this, every officer closed their eyes. No matter what, their careers were going to suffer.

However, what left their jaws on the floor was that the white Bugatti Veyron was like a white elf. With its incredible grace, it performed a dance that shouldn’t belong to the mortal world amidst the traffic. At ultra-high speed, it flashed like the wind past one bewildered car after another, leaving nothing but a glimpse of its massive red taillights.

A BMW was driving steadily when a white shadow cut past it instantly and vanished into the distance.

The owner poked his head out and roared, “Dammit! Driving that fast? You looking to die?” After speaking, he seemed to think of something and became dazed. He realized that driving at such a speed here must be a hallucination. In this world, besides Superman, who else could do that?

“Did I just see Superman?”

People as depressed, conflicted, and confused as the BMW owner were all over the street.

The traffic police, whose hearts had just settled, were suddenly enraged. Your technique might be good, but you can’t drive like that in a busy downtown area! You might disregard your own life, but you have to care about the lives of others, right? This was a complete disregard for human life—how was it any different from murder?

Without hesitation, they kicked the problem up to their superiors.

In truth, there was no need for the officers to report. The surveillance cameras everywhere had long since detected this phenomenon. After an emergency report, several high-ranking officials from the Traffic Bureau had a quick discussion. Ultimately, they decided to intercept him. No matter his identity, such an incident was a challenge to the entire traffic police force.

Moreover, they stood on the high ground of public safety. Even if the other party was truly someone influential, they couldn’t do anything to them.

On another level, if anything happened to the driver, they would be the ones in trouble. So, regardless of the motive, they had to stop him. Thinking of the reported speed of 130 kilometers per hour, they practically clutched their chests as they issued the orders. This was simply too insane.

With the electronic surveillance system and advanced electronic map tracking, Zhou Yuanqiang’s white Bugatti Veyron had nowhere to hide. Traffic police from several streets moved to intercept him.

Dozens of police cars coming to intercept a single sports car was the kind of thing one usually only saw in foreign movies. In the environment of Mainland China, such a bold person hadn’t appeared before. A scene that usually only happened in American blockbusters was actually playing out in Shanghai, and the consequence was naturally a massive crowd of onlookers.

Thus, countless people “buying soy sauce,” passersby, and those sending “congratulatory telegrams” all popped up.

Aware that many officers were trying to surround him, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head with a wry smile. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to stop and cooperate. In a city like Shanghai, given their skills, wanting to intercept him was an absolute pipe dream. In this traffic flow, did they even dare to speed up?

In this chase, the traffic police were a total tragedy from the start. Just as Zhou Yuanqiang thought, they were only driving at 20 or 30 kilometers per hour, while he was doing over a hundred. What could they possibly catch? The pincer movement was also a joke; before they could close the net, the fish had already burst through and fled to another area.

At this point, the young masters who had been following frantically realized it was time to back off. They all sensible stopped their supercars, pretending they had nothing to do with it.

The Traffic Bureau, having lost a great deal of face, naturally had an ace up its sleeve. On one hand, they urgently requested aerial support from the Special Police; on the other, they deployed officers to the areas where the Bugatti Veyron was likely to arrive. Because… in ten minutes, it would be the lunch break peak. With the traffic then, no matter how “badass” you were, you wouldn’t be able to move an inch facing streets packed with vehicles.

Unfortunately, while the Traffic Bureau’s plan was good, how could Zhou Yuanqiang not have thought of it? He sneered and headed toward a familiar area because there was a large parking garage there.

Clearly, the police also realized Zhou Yuanqiang’s intention, but they weren’t afraid of him entering the parking garage. There were many surveillance cameras inside as well. Once he entered, they only needed to seal off the exits, and he wouldn’t be able to escape even if he had wings.

But was it really that simple?

The Bugatti Veyron Zhou Yuanqiang was driving didn’t even pause. He smashed through the entrance barrier of the parking garage. While the security guard’s jaw dropped, he charged into the garage like an arrow. Shortly after, several police cars with wailing sirens followed him in.

A moment later, dozens of police cars surrounded the entire parking building, and the “whirring” sound of a Special Police helicopter could be heard from outside.

The parking security guard, finally reacting, swallowed hard and said to his colleague, “Is this a terrorist attack, or are they catching a master thief?”

Zhou Yuanqiang knew that what the police recognized was nothing more than his sports car. As for himself, he hadn’t shown his face at all. Even if they had caught images of him before, as long as they didn’t catch him on the spot, he had plenty of evidence to prove it wasn’t him.

The moment he entered the parking garage, Zhou Yuanqiang sped toward the top floor. In a blind spot where the cameras couldn’t see, he slammed on the brakes. After turning off the engine, he leapt out of the Bugatti Veyron as fast as he could. With a wave of his hand, the white Bugatti Veyron vanished into thin air.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t linger. He walked to the elevator, headed down to the first floor, and swaggered out of the parking building.

The police were only looking for the sports car. There were many car owners coming and going here; they couldn’t possibly stop everyone from leaving. In their logic, someone driving a supercar couldn’t possibly abandon the car and walk away. So, Zhou Yuanqiang left the police’s sight without much effort.

Of course, to explain why the sports car wasn’t in the building, Zhou Yuanqiang went to a nearby mall. While no one was looking, he brought the Bugatti Veyron out of his storage space and left that unmanaged parking lot like an arrow.

The rest was simple. He flickered past the police surveillance cameras to leave a trail, then drove to an area without cameras, stored the car, and it was done. Those police officers could search until the cows came home; even if they flipped all of Shanghai upside down, they wouldn’t find a trace of the sports car.

Walking on the streets of Shanghai as if taking a stroll, Zhou Yuanqiang received a call from Yan Yuhe only a few minutes later.

“Did you get into trouble again? All of Shanghai is talking about a white Bugatti Veyron. I think besides yours, there isn’t another one in the city. Don’t tell me the one the police are chasing is you?”

Zhou Yuanqiang was secretly amused but said seriously, “How could it be me? I’m a good citizen; such a thing is absolutely impossible for me. Besides, I’m taking a walk on the street. If it were really me, I’d already be at the Traffic Bureau having tea.”

Yan Yuhe seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe there really was another white Bugatti Veyron in Shanghai. She said, “You don’t know, early this morning, the circle of friends went crazy over the legend of the God of Racing. Haha, you should hear how excited they are. Hmph, if they knew I was sitting in the God of Racing’s car yesterday, I wonder what their expressions would be.”

“Dammit, I was wondering why I ran into ghosts today and why so many young masters were following me. So it was this. A miscalculation, a total miscalculation!”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s muttering wasn’t clear to Yan Yuhe. She asked, “What did you say?”

Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head. “Nothing. Oh right, how are the preparations for your birthday banquet? As the protagonist, you still have time to call me?”

At the mention of this, Yan Yuhe became excited. “Preparations are underway; it definitely won’t be affected for tonight. You know the address—it’s the place where I first took you to meet my friends when you came to Shanghai.”

Thinking of that place, the only thing Zhou Yuanqiang remembered was how he used magic to steal a lobster. Thinking back, that was the first time he had tasted lobster. Unfortunately, as he got busier, he hadn’t had the chance to eat lobster again.

“Will there be big lobsters at the banquet?”

With a “pfft” laugh, Yan Yuhe practically slapped her forehead. “If Daddy knew you were thinking about lobsters, he’d be livid. Also, my Daddy is very concerned about you. These past few days, he keeps asking me about your situation. I didn’t know how to answer. Actually, how could I not understand his intent?”

As she spoke, Yan Yuhe’s expression dimmed again. “Daddy wants to use this birthday banquet to find a match for me.”

Yan Shangyang’s intentions were well within Zhou Yuanqiang’s expectations, so it wasn’t a surprise. He comforted her, saying, “Don’t worry, your Daddy definitely isn’t that kind of person. He’s just testing to see if we’re sincere. I believe he’ll be moved by our sincerity when the time comes.”

Thinking of his gift, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled. If Yan Shangyang saw it, could he not feel secure giving his daughter to him?

“I hope so!”

The sound of someone calling Yan Yuhe’s name came from the background. Yan Yuhe said, “Alright, be on time tonight. I’ll leave it at that, let’s talk tonight!”

After hanging up, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head with a wry smile. But before he could put his phone away, Shehad’s call came in. Calculating the time, it was just morning in Somalia; Shehad probably hadn’t rested all night.

“Boss, the major tribes hope you can return in person. Only then will they negotiate with us.”

Involving matters of interest, Zhou Yuanqiang could understand. These tribes couldn’t just agree easily because the influence involved was simply too great. This kind of thing was like a gamble; they had to treat it with caution.

Zhou Yuanqiang calculated the time. “You stabilize the situation for now. Everything will wait until I return.”

To reach Mogadishu, he needed to transfer through several flights. The situation in Somalia currently only showed a sign of trouble and had not yet deteriorated. Shehad could still control it, but if the situation worsened further, it would be beyond his control; Zhou would have to be there personally. The Somali tribes and organizations were definitely guys who wouldn’t act without seeing a benefit. Without actual interest, they wouldn’t easily lean toward him.

At such a sensitive moment, who knew what the next moment would be like? Shehad was indeed the number two figure in Steel Park, but he wasn’t the number two in the military. Without Zhou’s personal command, he had no way to deploy the troops Zhou had trained himself.

In these times, success depended on seizing the initiative. In truth, thinking carefully, the time left for him was almost gone.

Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly realized that his plan to leave after Yan Yuhe’s birthday was a luxury because time wouldn’t allow it. This wasn’t a matter of just two or three hours, because those few hours would make him miss a flight, and he would have to wait in Shanghai until the next day at noon for the next one.

Adding the time difference of the transfers, there truly was no time for him to attend Yan Yuhe’s birthday banquet.

Zhou Yuanqiang only thought about it briefly before calling to book a seven o’clock flight without hesitation. For Yan Yuhe’s birthday, he could only say he was sorry.

He took out the two gifts he had long since prepared. One was a birthday gift for Yan Yuhe, and the other was a gift for Yan Shangyang. Actually, the gifts weren’t expensive at all, but the significance was immense. He believed that both Yan Yuhe and Yan Shangyang would love their respective gifts because weren’t these exactly what they both needed?

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t tell Yan Yuhe of his departure. At least before she discovered he had left, she would be happy. How could he bear to ruin that?

Completely unaware, Yan Yuhe spent the whole afternoon happy as a little swallow. At three o’clock, she began letting a makeup artist carefully apply her makeup. Such complex makeup usually took two or three hours to complete. She was already anticipating the seven o’clock banquet—the blessings from family and friends, and the mysterious gift Zhou Yuanqiang said he would give her.

What would that gift be?

The banquet began at seven. Starting from six, some close friends arrived early; even business partners would arrive after six-thirty. But Yan Yuhe, standing outside to welcome guests, kept craneing her neck, yet she couldn’t see the figure she hoped for.

It wasn’t until a few minutes before seven that she finally received a text from Zhou Yuanqiang: “I’m sorry for leaving at this moment. Please forgive me for not being able to spend your birthday with you. I hope you like my birthday gift. Also, please don’t be stubborn—you must open the gift I sent.”

Receiving this text, Yan Yuhe frantically rushed into the room where the gifts were placed and found the one belonging to Zhou Yuanqiang.

It was a very small gift box. Unlike the other beautifully wrapped ones, it didn’t have a label stating what it was. In her twenty-six birthdays, Yan Yuhe had never lacked diamond rings or necklaces. Over the years, the ones she had received were enough to open a jewelry store.

Carefully cradling the small box, Yan Yuhe murmured, “What did you actually send?”

The box had almost no weight, giving one a feeling that it was empty. Yan Yuhe carefully untied the ribbon and then, with an expectant heart, opened the lid. She saw only a beautifully printed business card lying quietly inside.

Holding this card, Yan Yuhe suddenly laughed, laughing with immense joy. She knew that wasn’t this gift exactly what she needed most?

President of Haili Investment Holding Company, Zhou Yuanqiang.

The characters printed on the card seemed to possess an immense magic, making the joyfully laughing Yan Yuhe cry from being moved. At this moment, she realized that the happiest person in the world was definitely her.

Meanwhile, Yan Shangyang was holding a copy of a share transfer agreement. The signatures of Chen Chaohao and Zhou Yuanqiang, along with the notary’s seal, all proved that the owner of the massive Haili Company had become a familiar yet strange person.

“That brat, he’s got quite a move, keeping even me in the dark. But I’m very curious—how on earth did you manage all this?”

Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, Yan Shangyang had been staring at this copy in a daze. No matter how he racked his brain, he couldn’t understand how an ordinary person could, in just one year, produce 3.5 billion US dollars in cash to acquire Haili. One had to know that anyone who could earn several billion dollars in a single year was an existence akin to a legend.

But that wasn’t important. What mattered was that his current identity was her daughter’s boyfriend. He absolutely had the qualifications and the chance to be his son-in-law—that was enough.

Thinking of that ordinary young man, he now had enough capital to stand on equal footing with himself. Yan Shangyang murmured, “I hope you treat my daughter as sincerely in your personal life as you have your career—with a miracle that lasts a lifetime.”

On the flight, Zhou Yuanqiang rested his head on his hands, looking at Shanghai under the night sky. He smiled faintly and said, “They must have received the gifts by now. I wonder if they’re satisfied? The weight of a gift depends entirely on the recipient. A single business card is more important than anything to her.”

He looked at the clouds outside the window. “Between matters of the heart and my career in Somalia, isn’t it also a question of weights and measures?”

Chapter 371: Who is Plundering Our Happiness?

Abidilla was very satisfied with his current life. A monthly salary of 50 US dollars was enough to support his entire family’s expenses.

Don’t doubt these 50 dollars. In Somalia, its purchasing power was staggering. Basically, feeding a family of five was no problem. For Abidilla, his parents were still alive, he had a wife, and a three-year-old son; his salary could support the whole household. The small amounts of money his parents and wife made from needlework became the family’s savings.

Just thinking about the old days was a nightmare for Abidilla.

A few years ago, Abidilla’s family was considered middle-class. They raised a large flock of sheep. Every year when the sheep were at their fattest, someone would come to buy them, saying they were being shipped abroad. That day was the happiest time for the whole village, as they would slaughter a few sheep they couldn’t bear to sell to celebrate the harvest.

But war was a demon that destroyed everything. It took everything away. Large numbers of young men died in the fighting, the livestock industry almost vanished from the country, and the people of the entire nation seemed to be collectively unemployed. Dejection and despair became the theme; smiles were gone.

Abidilla remembered that his dozens of sheep were conveniently “confiscated” by the government army as military funds. For a family barely sustaining itself, those sheep were its pillar. Once the pillar was removed, the entire home collapsed completely.

The village where Abidilla lived was surrounded by the Wildlands. It was fine for raising cattle and sheep, but planting grain was exceptionally difficult. At most, small amounts of corn and potatoes could be grown in certain areas. Due to geological and climatic reasons, the yields were pitiful, so even filling one’s belly was difficult.

Since the sheep were taken for military funds, Abidilla’s entire family had been in a desperate situation. One had to know the entire family depended on the money from those sheep to buy grain to survive.

Living the past few years had been a struggle on the brink of death. For the sake of his family, Abidilla had been a miner, a soldier, and even a pirate. As long as he could survive, he was willing to do anything. But no matter how much he gave, he still couldn’t support an entire family alone.

It wasn’t until Steel Park was established near the village that Abidilla was lucky enough to join. For him, a change in life—a paradise-like existence—had descended.

A salary of 50 dollars was the standard for ordinary workers. Abidilla knew that as long as he worked hard and got promoted, his salary would naturally increase. Having worked many jobs, he understood that in Somalia, there were almost no other jobs with such pay.

It was exactly for these 50 dollars that Abidilla, who had been a pirate and killed people, became as gentle as a lamb. He didn’t want to violate the factory’s rules and be fired, losing this hard-won job.

There was also the matter of pride.

Riding a bicycle home every day after work, wearing that blue work uniform unique to Steel Park, made him the object of envy for countless people. Yes, working in Steel Park was an enviable job. One had to know that they basically weren’t hiring anymore; if you wanted to get in, there was no way.

There were also a dozen other young men from the village working in Steel Park. These dozen families, having entered a well-off life, were the wealthiest group in the village. Walking through the village, who wouldn’t look up to them? It was no exaggeration to say that within the village, his family was respected by everyone.

Abidilla knew all this was given by the Boss, given by Steel Park.

Recently, Abidilla was very happy. After saving for a year and a half, he was preparing to build a small western-style house. Additionally, the factory, seeing his diligent work, was preparing to promote him to team leader. Good heavens—that meant he could earn 70 dollars a month, a full 20 dollars more than an ordinary worker.

Thinking that life would get better and better, away from hunger and the struggle on the brink of death, Abidilla’s heart was filled with endless satisfaction.

But on this day, as he walked through the village, the dozen colleagues from Steel Park seemed as if they were possessed, completely devoid of their spirits. Abidilla was puzzled. He walked over warmly and patted a guy named Hassan, saying, “Hey, what’s wrong? Did you guys get fired by the factory?”

Hassan looked at the unaware Abidilla, shaking his head in pain and saying, “No, Abidilla. Haven’t you heard? We’re about to lose our jobs.”

“What?”

Abidilla almost leapt off the ground, roaring, “What did you just say? We’re about to lose our jobs? Why?”

This news was indeed hard for Abidilla to accept. The beautiful life he had just planned and the upcoming promotion were going to vanish in an instant? No, it couldn’t be. Just yesterday, the supervisor clearly told him he would be promoted to team leader. How could he be about to lose his job?

He asked tentatively, “There’s more work at the factory than we can finish. How could they fire us?”

Another named Shehashid said, “It’s the government army—they want to take away Steel Park.” At this point, he grit his teeth and said, “Those sons of bitches, do they really want to drive us to a dead end? Last time they took our cattle and sheep for the military, and this time they even want to take our jobs. They want to kill us.”

Abidilla had been a pirate and killed people. Once his blood was up, he became frantic and roared, “I haven’t settled the last debt with them yet! I’ll fight them. Anyone who dares touch Steel Park touches me, Abidilla. I’ll fight them to the death.”

Influenced by Abidilla, the others became filled with righteous indignation.

In Somalia, everyone was a warrior. Even women and children could fight. Long-term chaos and massive civil wars had taught them how to fire a gun and how to protect themselves. It was no exaggeration to say they were kind, but when threatened, they could be bloody.

“Maybe we should join al-Shabaab and fight against the government army.”

As soon as this suggestion came out, it was rejected by the most far-sighted of them, Abidilla. He said, “Do you think al-Shabaab is really as they say? Hmph, in my view, hearing the government army wants to take Steel Park, they’ll surely try to loot in the chaos. How are they any different from the government army?”

He pondered for a moment and said, “There’s a 2,000-man security force in Steel Park. Why don’t we just join them? With those bastards in the government army, let’s see how they can take Steel Park. In my opinion, Steel Park should just rebel. Whoever can give us a good life, we’ll support them.”

Abidilla’s idea immediately gained support from the others. They were the ones who had tasted the sweetness of Steel Park; naturally, they had no other thoughts. Right then, the dozen or so people went back to the village, brought out their hidden weapons, and quickly formed an armed force heading toward Steel Park.

People like Abidilla were everywhere throughout central Somalia.

From the tribes to individual natural villages, and then to towns. People who heard the news were all incited by a certain force and took up arms one after another. They weren’t fighting for anyone else but for their own happy lives. For them, anyone who plundered the life they had just improved was a target for elimination.

“Did you know? Someone wants to cut off our livelihood!”

This greeting became mainstream throughout central Somalia, letting everyone know their income was about to go up in smoke. No one believed the weaklings of the Transitional Government could manage Steel Park well. No one believed these people could provide such generous salaries or bring so many jobs like Boss Zhou did.

At the outskirts of Steel Park, a full regiment sent by the Transitional Government had already arrived at the gates.

A group of so-called officials who came to negotiate was driven out by Shehad and his men. Both sides suddenly felt as if the air was thick with gunpowder; it only needed a single spark to ignite. On the defensive walls of Steel Park, machine guns were mounted one by one, aimed at the government troops outside.

The government army was not to be outdone; a dozen mortars were set up, several armored vehicles were in a charge formation, and the entire regiment of soldiers was in a combat state.

As the Minister of Commerce, Jelf originally thought the Somali people’s hearts were with the government. A mere Chinese immigrant wouldn’t gain their recognition. Nationalizing Steel Park, with the government having the advantage of time, place, and people, plus a full regiment of armed forces, should be a simple matter.

He was even thinking about how much he could profit from this—at least several hundred thousand dollars for sure.

But things far exceeded his expectations. Facing the cold muzzles of the machine guns on the wall, he realized he had grossly underestimated his opponent. This damned Chinese man was actually able to unite the Somali people and turn their guns against the government army.

After being expelled, Jelf was undoubtedly in a miserable state. Looking at the rows of armed forces on the wall, he cursed furiously, “Are you still Somali citizens? The country is in a time of crisis; we should be united. The government is only acquiring Steel Park to use its advantages to build a stronger army, recover all regions of Somalia, complete a unified government, and end this era of warlordism. Do you want to oppose the state and destroy this chance for the country to rise?”

Hearing Jelf’s shout, everyone laughed. State? Could the Transitional Government represent the state?

Look at Somaliland in the north; since they declared independence, they’ve done quite well, recovering their economy extremely quickly, and it’s the only place in all of Somalia with a functional economy. And the Transitional Government? Like a pile of crap, even the President and a series of high officials have to work from neighboring countries. Isn’t that a provocation?

Moreover, the Transitional Government army only controls the capital, and that’s only because a large number of peacekeeping forces and other countries have applied pressure on the surrounding al-Shabaab; otherwise, they would all have been kicked out to neighboring countries. One could say the Transitional Government was a joke—existing in name but dead in reality, just a fig leaf used by Western European countries to save face.

Shehad, hiding in a perfectly safe place, took a megaphone. He sneered several times before saying, “Jelf, you weakling, when I was out in the world, you were still hiding at home nursing. Go back and tell your master—tell him if he wants Steel Park, let him fly back from the neighboring country and ask our Boss in person. Hiding in the rear, what kind of ‘sincerely for the people’ is that?”

Jelf’s forehead was covered in dark lines, and he was so angry he almost lost control. These people didn’t respect the Transitional Government at all.

Jelf probably didn’t know yet that a massive number of Somali people were gathering, bringing their weapons and heading aggressively toward the capital. And the people in the capital had already started rioting. Even the al-Shabaab warriors, who had finished gathering and were ready to move, sensibly stopped all actions.

Are you kidding? If they weren’t sensible, look at the tens of thousands of people on the roads. Although they were called warriors, in a place like Somalia where everyone was a warrior, they didn’t think their marksmanship was any better than an old lady’s.

Furthermore, intelligence said that this time, the number of rioters reached hundreds of thousands, and they were desperately swarming toward the capital. If they really tried to block them, wouldn’t they be helping the Transitional Government? Only a fool would do such a thankless task.

The poor capital government office was surrounded by layer after layer of people.

If anything went wrong with Steel Park, not only would the 30,000 workers inside lose their jobs, but the hundreds of nearby supporting factories and workshops would also suffer. Like a chemical reaction, the capital, which relied on the consumption of tens of thousands of workers, would see even more small vendors and businesses heavily affected.

One could say Steel Park was a fuse that affected everything—an absolute powder keg.

But by the time the Transitional Government realized it, it was already too late. Even if they backed off now, it was no longer possible. Because who they encountered was not a law-abiding merchant, but a merchant with immense ambition. What he needed was exactly the moment the government lost its reason, giving him an excuse.

Unluckily, the big shots of the Transitional Government were all in neighboring countries, so how could they know the true situation of Steel Park? Their decision was merely influenced by the capital’s officials, leading them to issue this poorly thought-out plan. Wasn’t this also like a conspiracy, using the capital’s officials to push them into giving the order?

Chapter 372: A Lightning Promotion

“Who is plundering our happiness?”

This single sentence became the fuse. No one was willing to lose the good life they had worked so hard to achieve.

The spontaneous organizers led the people who had benefited from Steel Park onto the streets of the capital in an armed parade. They surrounded government office buildings, shouting at the top of their lungs. It was a massive demonstration with a simple goal: the people demanded an apology from the government.

A swarm of journalists, like sharks smelling blood, moved deep into the streets with their camera crews.

The journalists who had been waitng patiently in Somalia all hoped to get first-hand information. Unfortunately, over the last few years, the mediation of Western European countries had resulted in a lack of major conflict. By the time they reached the sites of sporadic skirmishes, the opportunity had long since passed. Now that such a large-scale armed demonstration had suddenly erupted, how could they not be as excited as if they had been injected with adrenaline?

As for whether people would die in the war or whether it would cause instability in Somalia—that was none of their business. Scoring first-hand material meant raises, bonuses, and promotions. Otherwise, who would risk coming to such a volatile country? The saying “great wealth is found within great danger” was the guiding principle here.

“A New Round of Turmoil Breaks Out in Somalia.”

“Mogadishu Haunted by Crisis; War on the Verge of Erupting.”

“Wealth—The Fuse!”

“Somalia Sinks Back into the Quagmire of Civil War!”

“A Joke for Western Europe; The Greed of the Somali Transitional Government!”

One breaking news story after another suddenly appeared on major world news websites. The massive headlines quickly caught the eyes of many. The world had been at peace for too long; people craved excitement. Naturally, the armed demonstrations in Somalia became a focal point of global attention.

“The Somali Transitional Government has never effectively resolved the issues with warlords and political factions, leaving the entire country in a state of unrest. This latest fuse was sparked by Steel Park, located over 20 kilometers north of the capital. This park was established as an investment by Chinese immigrants and has long been regarded as a Somali industrial miracle. The foolish actions of the Transitional Government have obliterated the last shred of credibility Somalia had in the eyes of the world. A merchant’s property is being treated as nothing more than spoils for others…”

“The armed demonstrations continue to escalate. Large numbers of Somalis, carrying weapons, are flooding into the capital. Another group is heading toward Steel Park. The Transitional Government forces in the capital find themselves in an extremely precarious position. Faced with the angry Somali people, they can only hunker down inside their defensive works. Throughout the capital, only the peacekeeping forces are maintaining basic order…”

“Numerous outlaws are taking advantage of the chaos to cause trouble. The streets of Mogadishu are rife with looting. From time to time, buildings are engulfed in towering flames. Even with five thousand personnel, the peacekeeping forces are simply unable to control the situation. Any unwise move could trigger a bloody firefight.”

Reports of all kinds were sent to headquarters in real-time as journalists kept a constant eye on every movement in Mogadishu.

Some clever reporters drove directly toward Steel Park.

There, a regiment of the Transitional Government was currently trapped in a “people’s sea” of warfare. Tens of thousands of gathered Somalis had completely surrounded the regiment. These government soldiers, who already possessed low training levels and even lower loyalty, buckled under the gaze of tens of thousands of furious eyes. Most of them simply deserted, dropping their guns, stripping off their camouflage uniforms, and disappearing into the crowd.

Confronted with this result, the journalists—who knew the desertion rate of the Transitional Government forces was extremely high—weren’t surprised at all. Instead, they all continued their real-time reporting with smiles on their faces.

Of the thirty thousand workers in Steel Park, most were young men in their prime. They were the group that benefited most directly from the park’s existence. With the workers taking the lead, they were quickly organized into a formidable main force.

Massive quantities of weapons were brought out from the warehouse complexes and placed into their hands.

In Somalia, anyone could be a soldier. Having experienced too many wars, they possessed a bloody courage that people from other countries lacked. To them, whoever was smashing their rice bowl was their enemy. The concept of the “nation”? The Transitional Government did not represent the nation; in the hearts of the Somali people, it was nothing more than another warlord.

At this moment, as the Boss of Steel Park, Zhou Yuanqiang could no longer remain in hiding. Once these thirty thousand men were armed, Zhou Yuanqiang stepped onto a high platform and spoke loudly: “Though I am Chinese, I am also a citizen of Somalia, and I enjoy all the rights of a citizen.”

“Years ago, I studied Somalia and traveled here. I understood the pain of the Somali people. After returning to my home country, that pain remained etched in my heart, making me constantly wonder how I could change this situation. Once I attained a certain level of financial capability, I resolutely immigrated to Somalia and used my life’s fortune to build Steel Park.”

“Was it to make money? No, Steel Park cannot bring me any profit. Then, what was it for?”

“I can tell you very clearly: I wanted to use my limited abilities to change your current situation. I wanted to give everyone a job, to end Somalia’s plight of having no industry and no economy. I wanted to use my small shoulders to lift up Somalia’s tomorrow and show all overseas investors that Somalia is not what they imagine.”

“But unfortunately, I found that I was wrong. Not that investing in Somalia was a mistake, but that I trusted the current government too much. They have hindered the development of Steel Park at every turn, demanding vast sums of money. For the sake of the Somali people living a good life, I could tolerate all of that. But what I cannot tolerate is that it has now progressed to the point where they want to swallow Steel Park whole. I ask you, is this the attitude and behavior a government should have?”

“I am truly disappointed. If the government cannot provide a clear explanation, I will have no choice but to withdraw from Somalia.”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s speech made him sound like a wronged young girl. Consequently, the thirty thousand men were having none of it. Driven by the need to protect their own interests and the urge to protect the “weak,” they were naturally filled with righteous indignation, shouting that they would tear the Transitional Government to pieces for smashing their rice bowls.

Everyone knew about the welfare the Boss provided; among so many African countries, it was considered exceptionally good. Even more rare was that the Boss thought of Somalia at every turn. His sincere heart, dedicated to pushing for Somalia’s industrial development, moved countless people.

Under the instigation of personnel planted by Shehad, the angry crowd clutched their weapons and charged toward the capital.

The people from the various factories on the outskirts who relied on Steel Park for orders also refused to take it lying down. They all grabbed their knives and guns to join this menacing procession. After the various groups merged, the number of people actually reached sixty thousand—an armed force that would make any warlord tremble.

No one could have imagined that things would escalate to this point in such a short amount of time.

For the Western European countries, the Transitional Government had done something undeniably stupid. What made them even more furious was that the tiny bit of credibility the government had worked for years to restore was wiped clean in an instant. The equipment Western Europe had donated and the effort spent training the army were all for naught. They knew the capability of the government forces better than anyone; at the slightest sign of trouble, the desertion rate could hit a shocking sixty percent.

How could one expect to win against over a hundred thousand armed protesters with such a high desertion rate?

Whether in terms of strength or morality, the Transitional Government was completely in the wrong. Now it appeared these people were simply incompetent and beyond help.

Far away in the neighboring country of Kenya, the high-ranking officials were dumbstruck when they received the news. Only now did they realize they had poked a hornet’s nest—one capable of drowning them. Faced with a situation spiraling out of control, the officials, led by the President and the Chairman of the parliament, could only desperately call Western Europe for help.

They were genuinely helpless. A bunch of civilians with no military power, controlling only the capital, and being in the wrong to boot—they could only ask their masters to step in.

However, the Western European nations, filled with rage, didn’t even want to acknowledge them. “Handle the mess you created yourselves. You are the President and the Chairman of the parliament, yet you’re hiding in a neighboring country to conduct business. This is already unacceptable to your citizens. If this matter isn’t handled properly, you’re on your own!”

Receiving this reply, the officials were stunned.

On the third day of the armed demonstrations in the capital, under Shehad’s planning, the Number of protesters had reached over two hundred thousand. They began holding up banners calling for the senior officials to return home to handle the matter and give them a reasonable explanation. Otherwise, the people of the capital reserved the right to overthrow the Transitional Government.

Things had reached a point where the President and his colleagues had no choice. They had to take a small passenger plane borrowed from Kenya and return to the capital, Mogadishu.

Only when they exited the airport did they realize the situation was far more serious than they had heard over the phone. If the peacekeeping forces hadn’t been protecting the airport, it likely would have been destroyed. The capital’s office building was entirely ablaze. Officials had been driven out and were hiding in their homes, not even daring to step outside.

Faced with over two hundred thousand armed protesters, only a few hundred of the several thousand government soldiers remained in the barracks. The rest had long since greased their feet and vanished.

When the President and his group emerged from the airport, even with several hundred bodyguards, it seemed to have little effect. They were quickly surrounded by the agitated crowd. Before a sea of people, what could a few hundred bodyguards do?

If they wanted to use force and open fire, they only had to look at the thousands of armed people surrounding them. What those people held weren’t toy guns, but real weapons with live ammunition. If they started shooting in front of so many people, they would be spat on until they drowned, if they weren’t torn into pieces first.

Just as the President’s group finally entered their temporary office location, Shehad stood respectfully before Zhou Yuanqiang and said, “Boss, everything is under our control.” A sharp light flashed in his eyes, and though his hands trembled slightly, his voice was cold to the extreme. “If you wish, they can become corpses immediately.”

Zhou Yuanqiang sat in an office chair, holding a glass of crimson wine, staring blankly at the Steel Park which was guarded by only two thousand security guards.

“Shehad, do you think killing them would be a benefit or a disadvantage for us?”

Shehad shook his head and said, “Boss, I don’t understand that. I only know to act according to your wishes.”

Zhou Yuanqiang laughed loudly and said, “Reaching the top in one step isn’t impossible, but one must consider the consequences. I am ethnic Chinese. Even if I am a Somali citizen, I am not a native-born, authentic Somali. That is something that cannot be changed. You cannot expect all Somalis to support me as you do.”

“Therefore, we must adopt another method. We won’t push ourselves into the eye of the storm but will instead stand behind the scenes.”

Zhou Yuanqiang gave a faint sigh. He downed the wine in one gulp, placed the glass on the desk, stood up, and said, “What we need is their compromise and negotiation, to legitimately hold more titular power. What can a mere Major do? I need absolute authorization from the Transitional Government. I want legal government power so that our Steel Park can come into the light. We shouldn’t be like we are now—warehouses full of parts but no way to assemble and turn them into products.”

Shehad understood immediately, his eyes lighting up. “Boss, you mean…”

“Negotiate with them and get what we need. In the face of death or losing power, why would they care about things that were previously out of their reach?”

Shehad nodded. “I’ll go arrange it immediately.”

Under Shehad’s manipulation, the scale of the armed demonstrations soon decreased significantly. He took a few subordinates and appeared before the two big shots: the President and the Chairman of the parliament.

In the past, he would have been incredibly agitated, as a small figure like him could never have come into contact with such high-ranking individuals. But now it was different; the President was nothing to him. If the Boss hadn’t disagreed, they would have turned to dust along with the temporary office building as souls taken by his subordinates.

From the moment he saw Shehad, the President could no longer remain calm. He roared, “You directed all of this, didn’t you?”

Shehad wasn’t foolish enough to admit it. He simply said calmly, “Your Excellency, I don’t know what you are talking about. I only know that you tried to strip us of our sacred private property, causing us massive losses and leaving us with permanent psychological trauma. Quantifying the constitution revised by Your Excellency and the Chairman, we have the right to demand compensation from the government.”

The President and the Chairman were both speechless. They had only revised that constitution in 2009. If they didn’t implement it now, how could they maintain the sacred fairness of the constitution?

“What kind of compensation?”

This was the definition of “weak nations have no diplomacy.” For a president of a country to be forced to this point showed the cowardice of the Transitional Government. However, looking at the twisted faces of the President and his colleagues, one could see the helplessness and the burning rage in their hearts.

Shehad had long since decided on the figure. “Steel Park has suffered a total loss of five hundred million dollars.”

“Why don’t you just rob us? Five hundred million dollars?” The noble President and the Chairman roared almost simultaneously. Never mind five hundred million; given the Transitional Government’s capabilities, they even needed Western European aid just to pay basic salaries. How could they possibly come up with an astronomical sum like five hundred million dollars? It would be easier to just kill them!

Shehad knew they couldn’t produce five hundred million dollars. Even five million dollars would be an impossible figure for them to bear.

Thinking of this, Shehad felt a bit of pity for them. Someone like Hepburner had already received nearly ten thousand dollars from his own hands? While the poor presidents might not have even embezzled one million. He truly didn’t know why they still bothered being president.

“Actually, if you have no way to pay this debt, we have a more balanced method.”

In the face of absolute strength, the President and his colleagues no longer had the ability to bargain. One must realize that the armed protesters outside could rush in at any moment. If they were killed, they’d just be dead for nothing. In Somalia, sniping and assassination were very common. Many people used this method when facing political enemies—it was effective, direct, and clean.

“What method?”

Shehad shook his head and said, “Your Excellency, my Boss is the victim. You should be the first to visit him. I believe you and he will have a very pleasant conversation. Perhaps you could even become very good colleagues. You should know, my Boss, just like you, has a heart that wishes to give everything for Somalia. He is prepared to sacrifice everything at any time to contribute to the cause of Somali unification.”

“Bullshit!”

The President cursed fiercely in his heart, but his mouth said, “Yes, I have long heard of the Somali industrial miracle. I simply haven’t been able to find the time. Now is the perfect opportunity to witness the pride of Somalia. Of course, I am even more willing to meet the owner behind this miracle.”

The next day, the President and the Chairman appeared at Steel Park and engaged in a friendly exchange with Zhou Yuanqiang. After staying in the Steel Park office building for three hours, facing over a hundred journalists, both sides issued a joint statement announcing that they had reached an understanding.

In view of Zhou Yuanqiang’s outstanding contribution to Somali industry, the government cabinet agreed to promote Zhou Yuanqiang’s military rank from Major, skipping three levels, to Brigadier General. Simultaneously, he was tasked with forming the Ministry of Defense for the Somali Transitional Government and was appointed as the Minister of Defense, holding all military power except for the troops in the capital.

At the same time, Jelf was removed from his position as Minister of the Ministry of Commerce, with Zhou Yuanqiang taking over that role concurrently.

In the subsequent press conference, Zhou Yuanqiang formally announced his immediate assumption of office and promised the Somali people that within three years, he would lead the entire Somali GDP to a massive leap. As for his role as the Minister of Defense, he avoided the subject, merely stating that he would strengthen the construction of Somalia’s forces, with everything focused on economic development.

Chapter 373: Getting Serious

Why was the government cabinet so quick to agree?

The reason was simple. The Transitional Government only controlled the area around the capital. Once outside Mogadishu, the government didn’t have a single inch of land to its name. While they were nominally the legitimate government of a nation, in reality, their authority outside the capital was worth less than a pile of dung.

Even more surreal was that despite this, the government apparatus was incredibly bloated. It was riddled with redundant departments and a chaotic mess of military ranks. It had a massive number of government officials, just like a legitimate top-level government of a functioning nation. However, the tax revenue from the capital couldn’t even begin to cover their salaries. Most of the time, officials’ wages were either in arrears or partially subsidized by Western European aid.

Under these circumstances, granting Zhou Yuanqiang some illusory titles and powers was an entirely trivial matter for the Transitional Government.

The Ministry of Defense? It was a joke. Aside from the troops in the capital, the Transitional Government didn’t have a single soldier. What “nation” were they defending? Moreover, the Transitional Government only possessed two pitifully ancient torpedo boats, which were under the command of the capital’s forces. They wouldn’t even fall under the jurisdiction of the soon-to-be-established Ministry of Defense. Without a single soldier, could it even be called a Ministry of Defense?

So what if Zhou Yuanqiang was talented? If he actually managed to build up the Ministry of Defense and establish a proper military for the Transitional Government, all the better. The government would finally have its own army and wouldn’t be forced to cower in the capital, relying on peacekeeping forces to prevent Mogadishu from being overrun by al-Shabaab.

As for the Ministry of Commerce, it was even more of a joke.

This ministry had only been established because they saw the founding of Steel Park. Otherwise, given Somalia’s dire straits, what “economy” was there to speak of? What domestic or foreign trade? What country would have trade relations with Somalia? With only a tiny amount of ore exports and tax revenue barely maintaining military expenditures, what need was there for a Ministry of Commerce?

Thus, while it seemed as though Zhou Yuanqiang had reached the heavens in a single bound by gaining control of the nation’s military machine, it wasn’t the case at all. These were mere illusions—tangible to the eye, but ephemeral and intangible in practice.

Trading these useless assets for a reconciliation was the best bargain the Transitional Government could ask for. Furthermore, Zhou Yuanqiang had promised to cover the salaries and benefits of the entire cabinet, which naturally won the favor of every member. Passing the motion was a foregone conclusion.

God knows, some cabinet members hadn’t received their basic salary for two months, let alone their allowances.

And so, with both sides harboring their own agendas, the entire matter was resolved with unexpected speed.

However, the impact was still immense. First and foremost was Zhou Yuanqiang’s status as a Chinese national. Holding the position of the “number three” figure in Somalia made him the highest-ranking Chinese official overseas in history. Some international media outlets were already shouting that the mainland government was using this “curved path” to gain control of the throat of the Gulf of Aden.

Several Western European countries even sent strong condemnations to the President, arguing that it was a mistake for the Transitional Government to make such a decision without their consent.

Yet, despite the media reports, there wasn’t much of a strong practical reaction. Because of Somalia’s reputation, everyone understood that the Transitional Government couldn’t even leave the capital. To talk about controlling the north and indirectly controlling the Gulf of Aden was nothing short of an international joke.

And one shouldn’t forget that checkpoints at the Strait of Malacca could block the transport of any weaponry.

Most importantly, was the mainland really that stupid? To blatantly send a Chinese national to openly control Somalia? Even if they wanted control, they would install a local puppet. Why send a Chinese person? That would mean every move would be under the constant surveillance of other nations. How much could he actually accomplish?

Furthermore, within just a few days, Zhou Yuanqiang’s dossier appeared on the desks of national intelligence agencies focused on Somalia. Everything in those files suggested that Zhou Yuanqiang was nothing more than a pure businessman…

If there was one suspicious point, it was the unknown origin of his wealth. But that wasn’t particularly worth agonizing over. In history, which capitalist didn’t build their wealth on blood and darkness? The more mysterious the source of wealth, the darker the accumulation process usually was.

The newly appointed Zhou Yuanqiang’s first order of business was to stabilize Steel Park and restore it to its previous order.

The second order of business was to split Steel Park into several entities: the Somalia Steel Group, the Somalia Trade Group, the Somalia Military Industry Group, and the Somalia Power Group. Although government officials were not supposed to engage in business, Zhou Yuanqiang held absolute controlling shares in all these groups, which operated under the guise of state-owned enterprises.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t intend to keep everything for himself with the establishment of these four major groups. He released 20% of the shares, distributing them among powerful tribes and party leaders to forge ties with Somalia’s true underground power brokers. He was binding them all to his war chariot.

One should not underestimate this 20% share. Zhou Yuanqiang had previously dumped several hundred million dollars into purchasing massive mining rights, all of which now belonged to the Somalia Steel Group. Even a 1% stake would yield astronomical figures once fully developed—enough to make anyone’s eyes turn red with greed.

As for the other three groups, though their current value wasn’t as obvious, anyone with a brain knew that if they followed Zhou Yuanqiang’s blueprint, they would eventually dominate Somalia’s major industries. For instance, the Trade Group would monopolize all trade in Somalia. The Military Industry Group went without saying; being the government’s sole designated arms dealer was a guaranteed profit. And the Power Group was undoubtedly a golden goose.

Of course, all of this depended on Zhou Yuanqiang’s blueprint becoming a reality.

After successfully binding over a dozen tribes from central Somalia to his cause, Zhou Yuanqiang’s status in Somalia was essentially recognized by the people.

Zhou Yuanqiang also understood that while splitting Steel Park provided many jobs, it didn’t solve everything. He needed to produce some tangible results to further solidify his position. Thus, two weeks after taking office, Zhou Yuanqiang officially announced the establishment of the Somalia National High-Tech Park to the southwest of Steel Park, inviting global investment.

The media, which had been watching Zhou Yuanqiang closely, finally found something that could give them a collective shot of adrenaline.

“Somalia? High-tech?”

“A foolish, extreme leap forward!”

“The whimsical fantasies of an Easterner.”

Massive amounts of international media treated it as a joke. Mentioning high-tech in Somalia made people laugh until their teeth fell out. This was one of the poorest and most chaotic countries in the world, a nation that relied entirely on livestock for its GDP and had zero industry. Building a high-tech park?

Zhou Yuanqiang ignored the opinions of others. The High-Tech Park project officially launched, with Somalia Steel Group providing 95% of the funding and the government contributing 5%.

The entire layout of the High-Tech Park was designed by Zhou Yuanqiang using the resources of the Apocalypse Commercial Association. They analyzed successful precedents and combined them with the terrain of the southwest region of Steel Park. Even on the international stage, the design would be considered top-tier.

To further showcase the potential of the High-Tech Park, Zhou Yuanqiang spent a fortune in Germany to have a complete scale model of the park built. He placed it in Mogadishu Square, allowing the world to see his vision and determination.

There was no doubt that once the park was completed, it would be the most modern architectural district in all of Somalia.

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t satisfied with just this. Simultaneously, he launched the Industrial Park plan. Once completed, the industrial park would absorb the factories and enterprises surrounding Steel Park, integrating them into a complete industrial chain to provide peripheral manufacturing for the core enterprise—the Military Industry Group.

It would be fair to say that everyone was stunned by the efficiency and boldness of these two construction proposals Zhou Yuanqiang put forward in such a short time. This was something the previous Transitional Government could never have compared to.

Regardless of whether the plan was a “castle in the air” or a mere illusion, at least the Somali people finally saw a glimmer of hope. The capital and the central regions were immersed in a state of jubilation. This was because Zhou Yuanqiang promised that from construction to completion, the project would provide over thirty thousand jobs, completely solving the unemployment problem in the capital.

As soon as the design plans were released and funding was secured, the initial phase of the tech park was opened for international bidding.

To build trust, Zhou Yuanqiang first established a special account in Switzerland and deposited $2 billion in dedicated funds, demonstrating his commitment to building the Industrial and High-Tech Parks to all interested companies. At the same time, it sent a signal: Somalia was not short on money, and there were sufficient guarantees that they would receive payment upon completing their contracts.

Once the Swiss bank confirmed the authenticity of the account, construction companies of all sizes around the world became excited. After analyzing the Industrial and High-Tech Parks, they sent employees to form bidding teams. For them, even if they couldn’t get the lion’s share, getting a small slice of the pie would still yield sizeable profits and significantly boost their company’s turnover.

Normally, the establishment of such industrial parks in major world cities wouldn’t be particularly strange.

However, in a country that was synonymous with poverty, combined with the recent armed parade incident, it naturally grabbed global attention. This attention meant that for construction companies, it wasn’t just about making money; it was a free international advertising opportunity. Journalists would never pass up a story like this.

Even before the two parks had begun construction, the people of Somalia started to benefit.

First were the flights to the capital. The massive influx of bidders caused the few available flight paths to be completely booked. Next was Mogadishu’s hotel industry, which saw an explosive increase in business, leaving hotel owners grinning from ear to ear. Another beneficiary was the tricycle taxi business; drivers were earning in a single day what they previously couldn’t earn in a week.

Not to mention the shuttle buses from Mogadishu to Steel Park, which were chartered directly and essentially became private transport.

Now, the people of Mogadishu truly felt the benefits of economic development. Their gratitude toward Zhou Yuanqiang, this Chinese man, was heartfelt. People believed that under Zhou’s leadership, the capital would surely improve, and they believed he had the ability to bring about transformative change for all of Somalia.

Of course, using $2 billion to build two parks was a bit exaggerated, but Zhou Yuanqiang thought it was worth it. He wouldn’t lose money in the long run; in fact, he stood to make a profit.

However, thinking about the source of that $2 billion did make Zhou Yuanqiang feel a bit conflicted. This was money borrowed from several major commercial banks in Shanghai, using the Haili Investment Holding Company as collateral. To ensure this investment could be recouped, the Haili Investment Holding Company, in turn, directly held the controlling interest in the Somalia Steel Group.

For Zhou, it was just moving money from his left hand to his right. There was no real loss; the key was having a plausible explanation for the source of the Steel Group’s capital.

With such major events occurring, it was impossible for Zhou Yuanqiang to keep his identity a secret from Yan Yuhe and the others anymore. Thus, once the bidding for the two parks opened, Yan Yuhe appeared before Zhou Yuanqiang, dusty from travel and leading a group of her own.

Yan Yuhe had always thought Zhou Yuanqiang was just doing some small-time business here, perhaps making a profit by investing in small mines. But the news regarding the acquisition of Haili made her suddenly realize that she didn’t know Zhou Yuanqiang at all. Not just anyone could produce $3.5 billion; that was enough to place him among the top hundred wealthiest people in the world.

She had been a bit angry when he left in such a hurry, not even staying for her birthday. No matter what, the banquet was about to start; couldn’t he have spared even a few hours?

However, as piece after explosive piece of news followed, Yan Yuhe, who kept a close eye on international trends, discovered that the center of it all was Zhou Yuanqiang—and the Steel Park he had built with his own hands. At that moment, she understood that Zhou had a compelling reason to leave so abruptly.

Once her anger vanished, it was replaced by endless concern.

Then, the subsequent series of changes left her speechless. Somalia’s Minister of Defense? Somalia’s Minister of Commerce? Her head was spinning. Even though she was on good terms with Yu Zhenhua, Yu Zhenhua’s father was only a city mayor, and for the Yan family, he wasn’t considered a close confidant but rather someone her father went out of his way to curry favor with.

Yet she never expected her boyfriend would become a Minister of Defense and Commerce. She felt the world had truly gone mad.

“If it weren’t for these events, when were you planning to tell me all this?”

Yan Yuhe walked with Zhou Yuanqiang through Steel Park. Looking at the rows of factories and the tens of thousands of workers, it truly looked like a city. She realized that what she thought was “small business” actually involved billions in fixed assets. There was no doubt about it; every factory and piece of machinery here had come from the Apocalypse Commercial Association. Many were heavy industrial plants, and a single production line of that caliber would be worth tens or hundreds of millions of dollars on the international market.

Hearing Yan Yuhe’s agitated tone, Zhou Yuanqiang just smiled. “I was originally going to give you a surprise, but now that everyone else has made such a fuss, there’s no hiding it.”

Yan Yuhe blinked. “Are you really planning to revitalize Somalia? That’s no simple task. You have to know, it isn’t something that can be done just because you have money. That Minister of Defense title you’re holding… you’re a general without an army.”

Zhou Yuanqiang gave her a reassuring look. “If you believe in me, you don’t need to doubt me. I was worried you wouldn’t come. But now that you’re here, I can rest easy handing the construction of these parks over to your company. Haha, keeping the wealth in the family, right? Besides, I’m sure your father won’t mind if his future son-in-law’s company is a little late with the project payments.”

Yan Yuhe didn’t argue. She had come here specifically to help Zhou Yuanqiang by bidding for the projects, but she was worried. “Are you sure that by throwing all this money in, other companies will actually come? With the situation in Somalia, you can only rely on foreign firms. You can’t expect anything from the local, penniless businesses.”

“Hehe, of course I’ve thought about that. That’s why I’m counting on you and your father. As long as you take the lead in moving in and bring some partners from Shanghai, once we have a start, other companies will naturally follow. Plus, with the policy incentives I’ll offer and a few other trump cards up my sleeve, I’m worried they’ll be breaking down the doors to get into my tech park.”

Zhou Yuanqiang was absolutely confident in this. He continued, “As you know, the first thing Somalia needs to develop is to restore its livestock industry. That’s impossible in the areas currently controlled by the Transitional Government, but I think I’ll have a way in time. Secondly, the path we take cannot be an ordinary one, or else how many years would it take to see any progress?”

Regarding the livestock industry, the Somalia Trade Group he controlled would become the sole foreign trade company in the Transitional Government’s controlled zones. Given the giveaway prices of Somali livestock, shipping them to developed countries would bring in massive revenue. At a conservative estimate, making several hundred million dollars a year was a certainty.

As for revitalizing the two parks, Zhou Yuanqiang had thought it through carefully before investing. Otherwise, did anyone really think $2 billion was found on the street? This was his hard-earned money; there was no reason to just throw it away.

In reality, the true constraint on the development of the two parks wasn’t Somalia’s geography, but the political instability. Beyond the borders of the two parks lay the territory of al-Shabaab. They weren’t launching an attack now, but once the parks were finished, that would be their time to reap the harvest.

And to the southwest, the west district, and the north, several major warlord factions were watching like hawks, ready to snatch the juicy morsel that was Mogadishu at any moment. They didn’t care about UN intervention, they didn’t care about the Transitional Government’s attitude, and they certainly didn’t care about a “Minister of Defense” like him.

“But… will they even get the chance?”

A cold glint flashed in Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes. The world had already seen his financial power. Now, as the Minister of Defense, shouldn’t he show them his military might? After all, in Somalia, might makes right. Weren’t every one of them built on the strength of their own fists?

“July 1st is Somalia’s National Day. It isn’t far off. Isn’t it about time I did something?”

Chapter 374: The Parade

Zhou Yuanqiang had always pushed the security of his training base to the absolute limit. He utilized a massive array of monitors and sensors, with layers of triggers hidden within the woods and tall grass. Rows of electric fences were bolstered by mobile patrols, fixed sentry posts, and roving hidden scouts, ensuring that no one could enter or leave the base without permission.

A shielding system transitioned from the Apocalypse Commercial Association ensured that the entire training base was blocked from any external communication, save for specific encrypted channels. Even spy satellites only captured severely distorted images, making it impossible for outsiders to know what was happening inside.

Ever since the training base was established and Zhou Yuanqiang took over as the Minister of Defense, internal intelligence agencies had never stopped trying to gather information on it.

Unfortunately for them, the training base was terrifyingly secure and maintained its own dedicated rapid-response force. Often, as soon as intruders entered the perimeter, their communicators would fail. Before they could even get their bearings, attack helicopters would descend from the sky, and mobile patrol teams would surround them.

To date, over a hundred spies were held captive within the base. Their origins were complex: some were sent by the Transitional Government, others by local government officials, but the majority were intelligence officers from Somalia’s various major warlords.

Anyone with half a brain knew that Zhou Yuanqiang, a migrant from the mainland, hadn’t come here just to do business; he had to have other motives. Yet, no matter how hard they racked their brains, they couldn’t fathom his true goal or the extent of his ambition. They could only guess that he was a crazed businessman, a glutton for assets who didn’t care who held the mineral rights—he bought them all.

With hundreds of millions of dollars being thrown around, the warlords were happy, the tribes were satisfied, and the religious factions were smiling. They seemed to believe that Zhou Yuanqiang was simply a businessman who had set his sights on Somalia’s virtually unexploited mining industry, hoping to strike it rich using dirt-cheap labor and mineral rights that were being sold at giveaway prices.

Under that logic, the existence of the training base made sense. With such a massive industry, shouldn’t he have some armed force for self-protection?

It was this misunderstanding that caused them to gradually abandon their espionage efforts against the base. For the next six months, the training base operated in total peace.

For the 5,000 soldiers and 600 logistics personnel living inside, life over the past year and a half had been an endless cycle of training and more training. They were essentially confined; in eighteen months, not one of them had stepped foot outside.

To keep them focused, Zhou Yuanqiang appeared before them on the last day of every month. Carrying a chest of US dollars, he would stand before the training field, have them line up, and after a brief speech, let them come forward one by one to receive their monthly wages and subsidies.

It was a simple, perhaps even crude method, but it was highly effective. After a month of grueling training, the moment they received their pay turned into pure happiness. Here, they didn’t just eat their fill; the meals were incredibly lavish. There was meat at every meal, and their quality of life far exceeded anything they had known on the outside.

Specifically, the moment they held those 50 dollars in their hands, they felt that everything was worth it.

Gambling was strictly forbidden in the army. Their monthly earnings were mandatorily managed and invested by the headquarters’ soldier fund. After a year, every soldier’s account had surpassed a thousand dollars—a truly significant fortune for them. The soldiers knew their base salary only added up to 700 dollars, but the 60% investment returns had pushed them over the thousand-dollar mark.

The training base implemented an incentive system. Any soldier who met certain requirements or completed training tasks specialized would receive various bonuses.

After a year of training, the soldiers’ monthly wages increased from 50 dollars to 70 dollars. Zhou Yuanqiang personally promised that once training was complete, the base salary would be 100 dollars. For this reason, every soldier—whether they were tank crew, pilots, or infantry—trained as if their lives depended on it.

This kind of treatment was something they had never even dared to dream of before. No one wanted to lose this opportunity.

When Zhou Yuanqiang appeared at the training base once again, every soldier except for those on mobile patrol gathered on the massive flat ground of the training field.

Eighteen months of exposure to the elements had turned their naturally dark skin even darker. Excellent rations had made them incredibly strong and robust. Every one of them was brimming with spirit—they were a group with far too much pent-up energy, looking for an outlet.

Honestly, whenever Zhou Yuanqiang saw these 5,000 soldiers standing before him in square formations, he felt a surge of adrenaline. Compared to the hundreds of thousands of troops in the Commercial Association, these 5,000 soldiers were pitiably few, yet these 5,000 gave him a much greater sense of security.

The apocalypse often felt like a game or a dream; he found it difficult to truly immerse himself there. The modern world was different. He was born and raised here, and he felt an irreplaceable connection to it, one filled with emotion. The key was that everything in the modern world felt real, something he could tangibly grasp.

It was just a feeling, perhaps his own psychology at play. It wasn’t that the apocalypse was truly a dream—one only had to look at the factories built in Steel Park and the machines brought over from the apocalypse to see they were real enough.

“Soldiers, your training results gratify me. In a year and a half, you have completed the training volume of other soldiers’ three-year programs. You are no longer green recruits, but true soldiers and warriors. Looking at the world, only the armies of a few countries, like my homeland, can achieve this. Even the United States… you have left them far behind.”

Hearing this, the soldiers puffed out their chests even further.

Their country was one of the poorest in the world, but Somalis possessed a spirit of extreme resilience, just like their commander’s homeland.

Zhou Yuanqiang said solemnly, “I believe your instructors have already told you: I will be forming the Somali Ministry of Defense, dedicated to the cause of Somali unification. And you are the foundation of this Ministry, the elite soldiers who will project the power of the Somali state. Now, the time has come to test the fruits of your training.”

The soldiers, who had received the news the day before, were all excited. Upon Zhou Yuanqiang’s command to dismiss, they moved as they had been trained, quickly heading to their respective camps.

In just half an hour, the first to assemble was the attack helicopter unit. Sixty attack helicopters lined up on the training field in six rows of ten. Shortly after, with a massive roar, sixty Rhino Tanks rumbled over, quickly forming the same configuration as the helicopters—six rows of ten.

Following them was a unit of exactly one hundred armored vehicles, and finally, the fully armed soldiers who formed ten square formations.

Indeed, their next task was to practice for a military parade. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t expect them to be as majestic and perfectly synchronized as the world-famous parade troops of the mainland, but he needed them to be at least sixty to seventy percent as good, to show the world exactly what the newborn Somali Defense Force looked like.

A parade usually served as a form of deterrence. It was also a way to broadcast national strength and the well-being of the people.

For the current Somalia, which was plagued by internal strife and people living in misery, what they desired most was peaceful unification. However, warlords and certain political factions ignored the people’s cries for their own gain. Naturally, the people hoped for a powerful force to emerge that could realize this dream.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s goal was simple: use the parade to showcase the power in his hands to all of Somalia, and simultaneously show the world a different side of the country. He wanted to attract more foreign investment by demonstrating that he had the capability to guarantee the safety of their property.

Another objective was to intimidate the major rival warlords in the surrounding areas, making them realize that the power he held far surpassed theirs. Whether they chose to fight or negotiate would be up to them. Based on Zhou Yuanqiang’s intelligence, the Transitional Government was the legally recognized government by the United Nations, which gave it a huge advantage. Several breakaway regimes had previously stated that if the Transitional Government could lead Somalia out of its predicament, they would be willing to accept its leadership.

Although the parade would fully expose his strength, Zhou Yuanqiang understood that the benefits far outweighed the drawbacks.

Besides, was this truly the full extent of his power? One mustn’t forget the mountain-high piles of parts in Steel Park. They only needed final assembly to become a military force that would leave people breathless. Hundreds of tanks and hundreds of fighter jets would place them among the strongest nations in Africa.

As for how the outside world viewed it, that wasn’t important to Zhou Yuanqiang. What mattered was that the Somalis believed he could give them what they wanted.

June seemed to be an explosive month for Somalia.

First was the merger incident involving Somalia’s largest enterprise, Steel Park, followed by armed protests, and then the birth of the compromised Ministry of Defense. This was followed by the launch of the High-Tech Park and Industrial Park projects. Mogadishu, where foreigners were once a rare sight, was once again teeming with them.

Before the bidding companies for the two parks were even confirmed, news exploded that the Ministry of Defense would hold a military parade on July 1st.

And so, the world began to spiral into chaos. After several years of relative quiet, Somalia was once again hit by wave after wave of shocks. The Somali people often hadn’t even finished digesting one piece of news before another was thrown out, leaving them dizzy.

If the previous focus had been on economic construction, the parade suggested that the era where Somalia went years without large-scale war was coming to an end. This ambitious Minister of Defense wasn’t just ambitious economically; he was beginning to move militarily as well.

The journalists who had been camping out couldn’t wait to kiss Zhou Yuanqiang. To them, this mysterious Chinese man was an eternal news machine, constantly churning out the stories they needed, giving them endless material and making them a fortune. Behind each of these news pieces were substantial bonuses from their headquarters.

Once the news was confirmed by the Ministry of Defense—which only had a temporary office—freshly written articles flew to all corners of the globe. Moments later, they passed review and appeared as headlines on websites everywhere.

“A Somali military parade?”

Anyone who heard the news thought it was April Fool’s Day. The Somali Transitional Government was a joke in itself; when the Ministry of Defense was formed, it had already made many people spit out their food in laughter. Now, they had actually progressed to a parade.

The resulting effect was that countless people who saw the posts and understood the situation in Somalia laughed until they were hunched over their desks, pounding the wood with thunderous mirth. It was exactly like hearing an international joke, giving them a good laugh.

Even the Somali people themselves began to blush. Wasn’t this just making them a laughingstock on the international stage?

Zhou Yuanqiang, though he acted as though it weren’t his concern, was even questioned by the President and the Cabinet. Although they had no power to interfere with the Ministry of Defense’s affairs according to the compromise, they couldn’t sit still through such an embarrassing national event. The country was poor, weak, and even pathetic—they could endure that—but was there really a need to go out and make fools of themselves?

By now, the entire Cabinet and Parliament of the Transitional Government had long since fallen under Zhou Yuanqiang’s massive financial assault. Ninety percent of the Cabinet members were his people. If Zhou Yuanqiang wished, the President and the Speaker of Parliament could be impeached and removed immediately.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t bother responding to their questions. Instead, he intensified the training of the parade troops. At the same time, he increased the number of tanks to one hundred, the attack helicopters to one hundred and twenty, and added twenty HY-2 fighter jets. He was determined to make a stunning debut and accelerate his layout for all of Somalia.

Western European countries wouldn’t let him do as he pleased, and they likely knew something of the military strength at the training base. He had to act fast and decisively to seize control of southwestern and central Somalia, forcing the independent regions back under the Somali flag. By the time the Western European nations reacted, it would already be a finished matter.

As for political pressure or economic sanctions, they were a joke to him. Did they really think the Apocalypse Commercial Association’s hidden factories were just for show?

Thus, people from all walks of life waited to see the farce. Amidst their anticipation, July 1st—Somalia’s National Day—finally arrived.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t keep them waiting. On the avenue in front of the former government headquarters, he deployed police to maintain order and brought in half of the security force from Steel Park to ensure safety along the entire route. Without even being requested, the peacekeeping forces arrived to assist, with a unit from the Chinese mainland providing particularly immense help.

At exactly 10:00 AM, the parade officially began.

This parade was different from those in the past. There were no flower girls or massive groups of civilians. There were only three non-military squads representing industry, commerce, and agriculture. After them came ten disciplined infantry square formations. In uniform dress and fully armed, their appearance immediately stunned the people who had been waiting for a joke. This was nothing like the ragtag militia they had imagined; judging by the aura of the formations, no other force in Somalia could compare.

When five formations consisting of a hundred roaring tanks appeared, the over 100,000 Somali onlookers finally erupted. they embraced and cheered. Who didn’t want their country to be strong? The steel beasts before them were a display of military might, letting the world know that the Somali army was no joke, but possessed nearly a full-strength Tank Regiment.

Just as the tank formations passed, the massive fleet of attack helicopters from the training base appeared. The deafening buzz made the people realize that what they were seeing wasn’t an illusion, but a genuine, massive flight squadron of attack helicopters.

The entire parade lasted only two hours before ending abruptly, but what it displayed could not be ignored by anyone.

“The Most Powerful Military Force Since Somali Independence!”

This was the headline used by most media outlets after the parade. The military power displayed by Somalia shocked them. When did the Transitional Government, which at one point couldn’t even supply basic rifles, suddenly come to possess such an elite, modern mechanized force?

Regarding the declaration Zhou Yuanqiang made after the parade, the media directly used the phrase “The Emergence of Somalia’s Greatest Warlord” to describe him. In his speech, Zhou Yuanqiang pointed directly at the various independent parties and warlords, demanding they accept the jurisdiction of the Transitional Government immediately, or else be branded as the enemies of Somalia’s ultimate peace and unification.

The poor President and Speaker of Parliament finally realized that this thin young man was truly something else. Everything seemed to have been orchestrated by him. From his initial investment to taking over the Ministry of Defense and becoming the nation’s greatest warlord, every step had been within his grasp.

But what could they do? Looking at his overwhelming military force, things had already gone beyond their ability—or right—to control.

With this, Zhou Yuanqiang’s deployment in Somalia was complete. From now on, what he needed was to let the power in his hands grow legitimately and allow the economy he controlled to recover in his territory. By firmly gripping both the military and the economy, he would push forward to reclaim the rest of Somalia.

Chapter 375: Biochemical Human

Chapter 376: The Starry Sky

In the scorching month of June, only a few wisps of clouds drifted across the sky. The sun beat down mercilessly on the earth, which seemed almost to smoke under the heat.

On the other side of the Pacific, the once-prosperous cities were now deathly still. Aside from the zombies—the only recurring theme of the apocalypse—nothing living remained. The streets were littered with car accidents caused by the initial viral outbreak. If one could reconstruct the scene back then, they would see people with splitting headaches losing control of their vehicles and colliding with one another. Some were knocked unconscious or killed instantly, but many more stumbled out of their cars and began to run.

At the time, people had no idea what was happening. They only felt as if their bodies no longer belonged to them, as if their souls had departed at that very moment. Thus emerged corpses that were devoid of consciousness but capable of movement and attack. Masses of infected cells, mutated by the virus, rotted over large areas, turning into something utterly hideous.

And so, the most terrifying monsters of the apocalypse appeared: zombies, born from the alienation of billions of humans.

They slaughtered survivors and animals alike—anyone who hadn’t been infected. They devoured everything their instincts drove them to consume. As time passed, more and more zombies appeared. They evolved and mutated into various types that were more aggressive, more agile, faster, and physically tougher.

No one knew exactly how many types of zombies existed. There were those that flew in the sky, those that walked on land, and those that swam in the water. The only kind not yet seen were perhaps those that could burrow through the earth. The mutation and evolution of the zombies brought an even greater disaster to humanity. After nearly a year of struggle, the humans who had managed to gain a foothold were routed once again by these Special Infected, forced to flee toward regions with even harsher living conditions.

In the United States—the birthplace of so many biochemical movies and games—the virus seemed to show a special kind of “favor.” Its wild spread caused the entire nation to collapse in an instant. The military became completely useless; defense perimeters became mere decorations, and cities fell one after another.

Even the aircraft carrier battle groups were not spared. Under the infection, the vast majority of soldiers became zombies. They hunted the surviving soldiers on the ships. Often, only a few dozen soldiers managed to escape a battle group, and the only thing they could do was cling to floating debris and jump into the freezing seawater. Zombies now ruled the United States’ most formidable military assets, letting the aircraft carriers drift until the battle groups became nothing more than lonely, floating ghost ships.

The soldiers who jumped into the freezing water did not escape their fate either. The ocean was teeming with infected marine life, and one by one, the drifting survivors became their prey.

Today, on this vast continent of the United States, out of a population of over two hundred million, fewer than a million survivors remained. They constantly had to dodge zombies that could appear at any moment and stay vigilant against the “cold arrows” fired by their own kind. They struggled to survive until they finally reached the desolate, harsh environments that had been uninhabited before the apocalypse, where they finally found some semblance of stability.

The “World’s Police,” the planet’s strongest military superpower—regardless of its advanced technology or powerful military force—had been destroyed in an instant by a silent virus that gave no warning.

Unprepared and unable to react, the people became victims of the virus, turning into something more terrifying than death.

However, for Jack Jones, the events of the apocalypse were not the nightmare. His nightmare had truly begun on the fourth day after the apocalypse.

Currently, Jack Jones stood on a ridge at the edge of a small town, looking down at the once-familiar and bustling streets. This was where he had lived before the apocalypse. It was a beautiful town where his wife and three-year-old daughter resided, along with a group of friendly neighbors—Uncle Jim, Uncle Bob, Aunt Diana…

But they were gone. Everything was empty now. Under the sweep of the virus, no one but himself had escaped.

Jack Jones looked down at his hands in agony. He didn’t even know if he should be considered human or a zombie. Ever since he had been “selected,” the nightmare had begun. Talk of “revitalizing America” or “patriotism” was all bullshit; they were lies spun for the sake of private greed.

Wrapped in a large trench coat, Jack Jones started walking down toward the town. He kept his hands buried deep in the coat’s pockets.

Not long after Jack left the ridge, several vehicles stopped on the mountain road. A few burly men jumped out and inspected the tracks. After confirming the direction and looking toward the town below, they raised their binoculars and quickly spotted Jack Jones appearing at the town’s edge.

“He’s there!”

Upon receiving the report, a white-haired man who served as the leader sniffed and waved his hand. “Follow him. We’ve got to catch him. And everyone, stay sharp. He’s not easy to deal with.” Under his command, the vehicles sped down toward the town.

At the entrance of the town, Jack Jones didn’t stop when he saw a few wandering zombies. He continued walking toward the center.

The zombies spotted Jack and didn’t hesitate to surround him, baring their teeth and claws.

“Do you really want to stop me from going home too?”

Jack Jones’s eyes flared with anger, turning a dull, deathly gray—virtually indistinguishable from the eyes of a zombie. He suddenly pulled his right hand from his pocket and thrust it toward one of the zombies’ heads with lightning speed. With a sickening crunch of bone, the zombie’s head was crushed by Jack, its rotting brains pulverized.

In the blink of an eye, all the zombies lay on the road at the town entrance with their heads shattered.

Jack acted as if he had done something trivial. He shook his hand to flick off the gore, then looked at his hand again with a bitter smile.

His hands were blackened and rotting in several places, with black fluid oozing out from time to time. When he flicked his hand, a piece of his own flesh actually flew off with the muck, revealing the completely blackened muscle underneath. His face, partially hidden by a mask, was similarly hideous and rotted.

After easily dispatching the zombies, he tucked his hands back into his pockets and walked silently into the town.

However, he stopped abruptly. Frowning, he turned to look back at the distance and muttered, “They’re getting here fast. I can’t seem to shake them. Hmph. So what? No one is going to stop me from going home. I must go home. Home!”

After seven lonely years in the apocalypse, what does a person miss most? It is the home buried deep in their memories. Even if it was destroyed, it was still home.

Jack Jones knew that in his current state, his time was running out. The virus was constantly trying to conquer his brain; every moment was an endurance test against a pain that felt like his mind was being corroded. If his willpower faltered and the virus breached his brain, he would become a terrifying machine rather than a common zombie. More specifically, he would be a zombie-type machine, controlled by others to be used as a human weapon.

That nightmare was a forbidden zone in his memory that he didn’t want to revisit. The green viral liquid injected into his body had devoured every cell and every shred of consciousness until he collapsed. When he regained clarity, the world had changed. His skin gradually rotted over time, but his body possessed a strength that was terrifying to behold.

It was only when he discovered that everyone else injected with the same viral fluid had turned into unconscious zombie-type machines that he realized the truth. The viral liquid extracted from zombies, even when modified and mutated, was still a lethal pathogen. How could it be as simple as they claimed—no side effects, only increased strength and stimulated potential?

The whole thing, from start to finish, was a horrific experiment, and he and the others were the sacrificial lambs.

When Jack realized he still had his consciousness, he nearly went insane. He couldn’t accept becoming a zombie with human thoughts. So what if his strength had increased twenty or thirty times? Just looking at himself in a mirror was enough to drive him mad.

The laboratory discovered Jack’s abnormality. Seeing that consciousness could persist under this virus, they decided to study him further. They wanted to figure out what was different about Jack to find a way to increase human strength without the risk of losing one’s mind to infection.

But Jack escaped. He fled west, and further west, wanting only to return to his old home to die quietly alongside the memories of his wife and daughter.

As he traveled, Jack—a biochemical human modified by the mutated virus—was no different from a zombie except for his mind. He felt no pain, possessed immense strength, felt no hunger, and had no sensations. It was as if he were just a floating head; his entire body felt like it didn’t belong to him.

How could ordinary zombies hope to deal with the mutated Jack? He moved through cities, desolate areas, towns, and forests. He encountered countless zombies, fought them, and sometimes even wandered among them in the cities as if he were one of their own.

A research subject as valuable as Jack wouldn’t be allowed to just slip away. It was a game of cat and mouse across the land until they reached the town entrance.

Having dealt with them across his escape, Jack knew how dangerous his pursuers were. They were the elite of the elite. He was powerful, but that didn’t mean he was invincible. Only in complex terrain could he hope to lose them or kill one of the more careless members. But after a dozen skirmishes, killing even one of them was becoming increasingly difficult.

Simply and decisively, Jack Jones stood at the town entrance and turned to face the vehicles appearing on the road.

The cars stopped about ten meters from Jack. A dozen fully armed men stepped out, aiming submachine guns and sniper rifles at him. The white-haired leader stepped out, puffing on a cigar and exhaling cold clouds of smoke as he stared at Jack in the middle of the road.

“You can’t run!” The white-haired man, Kate, truly had the ability to say this. He had been injected with a biochemical agent developed by the laboratory that could push human potential to its absolute limit. One dose could last for a month. If he didn’t receive the agent after that month, his body would quickly rot, and he would die in agony. One could say the biggest difference between Kate and Jack was that Kate was a human-looking biochemical human, while Jack was a zombie-looking one.

“Kate, you can’t stop me.”

Jack Jones had an inexplicable confidence. He ignored the weapons in their hands. His body already bore a dozen scars from their bullets, but his healing factor—much like that of certain Special Infected—could seal wounds in moments. As long as they didn’t hit his head, he felt no pain from damage to his torso.

Kate sneered and said, “Is that so? Then, feel free to try.”

He gave a slight wave. Several men quickly opened the back of one of the vehicles. Five rotting, zombie-type biochemical humans appeared. They didn’t attack the men around them like ordinary zombies; instead, they stood quietly behind the squad like loyal slaves awaiting their master’s command.

“They have the same strength as you. I wonder if they can keep you here? And even if you manage to kill all of us, don’t forget—as long as the laboratory exists, they can churn out monsters like us indefinitely. How many can you kill?”

Kate’s voice was devoid of emotion. “For people like us, our paths were set from the beginning. There’s no changing them.”

Jack Jones pulled off his mask and threw it on the ground, then shed his hooded trench coat. In moments, he stood on the road naked, looking like a zombie. His head was completely bald. If someone threw him into a crowd of zombies, no one would be able to tell the difference.

Jack’s stance had decided everything. Kate said no more and nodded. Suddenly, the Gatling gun in his hands began to hum as the six barrels slowly rotated.

The men behind Kate didn’t need to warm up their submachine guns; they immediately unleashed a hail of bullets at Jack. But Jack, with his exponentially increased abilities, became nothing more than a series of faint shadows the moment he moved. Guns simply couldn’t track him.

A piercing “screech” erupted from Jack’s mouth, soaring into the sky.

By the time Kate’s heavy machine gun opened fire, Jack was already in front of them. However, Jack had no chance to attack. The five dull-eyed zombie-type biochemical humans moved with speed equal to his own to intercept him. They completely ignored the bullets tearing through their own flesh from behind, focused solely on tearing Jack apart.

In this self-destructive tactic, Jack’s entire body was hindered. Lacking pain and sensation, it was only through the visual of his body being torn that he knew he had been hit. As he moved, he looked down briefly. He saw a fist-sized bullet hole in his stomach; he knew that was from the Gatling heavy machine gun.

Despite being heavily wounded, Jack’s reactions didn’t slow. He charged forward and then suddenly leaped back, retreating out of their line of fire.

But the five zombie-type biochemical humans of equal strength stuck to him like glue, matching his every advance and retreat. With their power, Jack’s skin—which ordinary zombies couldn’t pierce—was like tofu under their claws. Jack knew he couldn’t let them surround him; his only option was to use his speed to lose them.

The biggest difference between him and them was that he had consciousness, and they did not. Because of this, Jack believed that in the end, victory would be his.

Jack’s goal was simple: charge into the town and use his familiarity with the area and the tens of thousands of zombies inside to kill these five biochemical humans. Once he was inside, people like Kate wouldn’t dare enter, as the town was his domain.

However, as Jack moved, Kate tossed the Gatling gun aside and pulled a small transmitter from his pocket. With a single press, the high-speed Jack suddenly tumbled head-first onto the road. Jack didn’t even know what had happened.

Only Kate knew that this was actually an activator. It used sound waves to cause the virus within the body to undergo a qualitative change.

This was the weapon the laboratory used to control people like them. As long as they possessed this, even the strongest biochemical human had to obey.

The reason Jack had been allowed to flee this far was because the laboratory wanted to see how much combat power a sentient zombie-type biochemical human could produce and whether he had further developmental value. Otherwise, with the laboratory’s resources, Jack could have been recaptured within an hour of his escape. Why chase him for a whole week?

Chapter 376: The Starry Sky

The world is always progressing. Never expect others to stand still. Life is full of variables every day; either you change others, or others change you.

The Chamber of Commerce, which ruled half the continent, understood this perfectly. They never slacked for a moment. From taking Shanghai to the two-month-long Great Migration, they moved over ten million people from several settlements to the coastal areas, stretching from Guangdong to Shanghai. They settled between one and two million people in each of the most prosperous cities.

By mid-July, the population migration that had begun in early May was finally declared complete.

Over a dozen of the most developed coastal cities were once again filled with the hum of human activity. After people were assigned to their homes, they spontaneously took to the streets to clean up trash and the grime left from battles. They helped clear piles of concrete rubble into trucks and repaired collapsed buildings.

Each city was like a massive construction site. People were busy everywhere—trimming green belts, reinstalling and repairing benches in parks and plazas, and following the Chamber’s instructions to transport materials or cordon off important sites. They helped the Chamber refurbish schools, preparing for children to return to the classroom.

This was just one corner of the bustle. For a migration of this scale, there was far too much to be done.

The power systems needed repair, the water systems needed fixing, and major streets needed their shell-cratered sections paved in the shortest possible time. Strategic materials had to be moved to safe locations. The process of assigning housing was even more tedious, as they had to ensure every household received a similar quality of home. They also had to ensure the Chamber’s residents didn’t resort to looting, maintaining the security of the entire city.

The most troublesome issue was the water and electricity systems. These two were the basic necessities of a city. Anything else could be missing, but not these.

The complexity of the power system meant it couldn’t be solved quickly. They could only send out massive teams to inspect and repair the damaged transmission lines. During this time, the heavy engineering airships played a massive role, flying into areas requiring urgent repairs and carrying huge loads of high-voltage wire. They made the greatest contribution to the restoration of the power grid.

Since the zombies had been cleared, there was no longer any need to worry about the safety of the cities or the repair crews. The Chamber threw everything into the power restoration. Over a hundred thousand people worked along the power grid all the way to the power plants to bring them back online. After cutting off power to uninhabited regions, the output of a single hydroelectric station was often enough to power several cities, which greatly reduced the difficulty of the repairs.

Once power was successfully restored, the water supply system was relatively easy to fix. They only needed to replace old, unusable pipes and repair sections damaged during the war. Once the tap water system was activated, the cities entered an era where their basic needs were met. They no longer had to go to sleep as soon as it got dark, and they no longer relied on transport airships for their drinking water.

After solving the basic needs, and to prevent future issues, the vast farmlands of the Tianzhou Plain were abandoned after the final harvest. Large-scale agricultural machinery was transported by airships to the coastal regions. The coast had massive plains with fertile soil and water, which were more suitable for farming. This would soon become the source of food for humanity, ensuring that over ten million people wouldn’t suffer from hunger.

Considering they had missed one season, but the harvested grain was enough to support over ten million people for a year, the Agricultural Department immediately deployed a massive workforce to clear the abandoned fields in the coastal areas by burning and then recultivating them into fertile farmland in preparation for the next rice planting.

The work didn’t stop there. Military factories located in Qingyuan City and the Tianzhou Plain were being moved one by one to City O, next to City S. The Chamber had officially designated City D as a military industrial city. No one except those involved in the military industry was allowed to enter without permission, and City D was officially declared a military restricted zone.

G City was also designated a military restricted zone. It was the headquarters for the Chamber’s first military district, housing sixty percent of the Chamber’s military forces. Both aerial carrier battle groups were stationed there. Meanwhile, the Second Military District was located in Ningbo, next to Shanghai, housing forty percent of the forces. The second Brood Mother class aerial carrier, the Sky, was assigned to the Second Military District after its commission.

They didn’t just move old military factories; even established military enterprises in recovered areas were relocated to City D if possible. The goal was to transform City D into the Chamber’s massive military industrial hub, relocating all related factories to form an integrated production zone.

To ensure the Chamber’s control over raw materials along the coast, the railways—the transport system with the highest capacity—also needed inspection and repair.

With the threat of zombies diminished, the rail lines would become the Chamber’s largest logistics network, responsible for transporting countless materials from the abandoned cities to the coastal cities where the humans lived.

It was estimated that the sheer volume of materials within the Chamber’s controlled territory was vast enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about supplies for seventy years.

On the Tianzhou Plain, the once busy figures were gone. The last batch of millions of people had been transported to the coast by the massive airship fleet a week prior. With this, the Tianzhou Plain—formerly the Chamber’s largest grain base—was declared abandoned. The roads, which had once been noisy with cars, were now eerily quiet.

If there were any signs of human activity left on the Tianzhou Plain, it was the special fighter jet factory established two years ago.

Almost everyone on the plain had been evacuated. Whether it was the Third Aircraft Factory, the Second Armored Vehicle Factory, or even the Third Airship Factory, everything that could be moved had been moved. The only thing remaining was the special fighter jet factory.

To be precise, it wasn’t the entire factory but the final assembly line. The other workshops and their machinery had long since been moved and now stood empty. They had already been set up and settled in City D.

As the Chamber’s most mysterious manufacturing plant, the only people who knew what was being made there—besides the factory workers themselves—were the top dozen leaders of the Chamber. This wasn’t because the Chamber purposely wanted to be secretive, but because the very concept of the special fighter jet factory since its inception was too incredible. The weapons being produced there had moved beyond conventional understanding.

At the largest airport of the desolate Tianzhou Plain military base, a pre-apocalypse A380—the world’s largest passenger jet—slowly touched down.

This giant civil airliner had been seized at the airport in City S and belonged to Southern Airlines. Unfortunately, in the apocalypse, everything in the Chamber’s territory belonged to the Chamber and Zhou Yuanqiang. Thus, this massive aircraft became one of many in the Chamber’s fleet, serving as an exclusive transport for high-ranking officials.

Its purpose here was to use its massive capacity to transport the last batch of engineers and technicians from the special fighter jet factory back to City O.

After the A380 landed, about a dozen cars were waiting. Stepping off the plane were Zhou Yuanqiang, Dali, and a group of guards. Very few people in the Chamber knew they were here. People had long grown accustomed to the Chairman frequently disappearing, so his silent arrival didn’t surprise anyone.

Waiting in front of the cars was an elderly man with gray hair. When he saw Zhou Yuanqiang descend, he gave a military salute.

Zhou Yuanqiang and Dali returned the salute. “Elder Liu, thank you for your hard work,” Zhou said.

The man, known as Elder Liu, smiled. “After two years, I’ve finally handed in a satisfactory exam paper.” As a world-leading master of dynamics from before the apocalypse, his achievements were multifaceted. Not only in dynamics, but he also had deep expertise in several disciplines, such as aerodynamics.

Liu Chuanteng was, alongside Wan Chongshan, the second person in the Chamber to enjoy special authority. His existence was an irreplaceable treasure for the Chamber. He was in charge of all work at the special fighter jet factory, reporting directly to Zhou Yuanqiang and holding special powers to mobilize the Logistics Department.

The group quickly boarded the vehicles and soon arrived at the final assembly line of the factory.

The assembly line wasn’t what most people imagined. While not as large as the assembly line for the Brood Mother class aerial carrier, unlike the carriers’ open-air assembly, this line was completely enclosed. It stood 100 meters tall, 500 meters long, and 300 meters wide—no smaller than a dry dock for a surface carrier.

When Zhou Yuanqiang and the others arrived, they looked at the massive assembly line with excitement that couldn’t be described.

“Almost nine hundred days and nights, and ten thousand people working… finally, we built it. At first, I thought it was just a dream, but at this moment, I know it’s a reality.” Liu Chuanteng looked at the assembly line where engineers were evacuating. He said, “If our country had possessed this sooner, how could other nations have dared to be so arrogant, sailing their warships to our doorstep as a show of force?”

As a top political figure in the Chamber, Dali naturally had the right to know what was inside this big guy. He rubbed his hands together vigorously. “This is great! Let’s see if that kid Tu Long still acts so cocky. He thinks his aerial carrier battle group is so badass. Now it’s finally our Air Force’s turn to shine! Hahaha!”

Zhou Yuanqiang and Liu Chuanteng shared a laugh. “Elder Liu, let’s keep it brief,” Zhou said.

Liu Chuanteng nodded. “I’ll give a brief introduction to the Cloud-class Warship. Of course, our warship isn’t the type you’d find in the ocean. We call it a ‘warship’ mainly because its exterior resembles one. However, our Cloud-class Warship doesn’t travel in water; it travels in the sky. To be more precise, the Cloud-class Warship belongs to the Air Force, but for future development needs, it won’t strictly belong to them.”

“The Cloud-class Warship is 288 meters long, 67 meters wide, and 31 meters high. It utilizes six crystal ramjet engines. Note that our engines are not conventional; they break all previous understandings of propulsion. It is because of them that the Cloud-class Warship was possible. In other words, you can understand them as levitation engines.”

“The propulsion systems used by the Cloud-class Warship provide all the thrust it needs. In the initial design, even the heaviest armor is weightless before these super thrusters.”

“As for its offensive capabilities—since we haven’t made a breakthrough in weapon types yet—it primarily uses missile attacks combined with powerful bombing capabilities. Therefore, another name you can call it is a ‘Missile Warship’ or a ‘Bombing Fortress’…”

At this point, Liu Chuanteng stopped his verbal introduction. “No matter how much I describe it, it won’t compare to seeing the real thing. You’ve already seen the design plans and the renderings, Chairman. But even the best renderings can’t compare to the shock of seeing it in person.”

Indeed, seeing it once is better than hearing about it a hundred thousand times.

After the remaining personnel inside were evacuated, Liu Chuanteng took out a small device that looked like a communicator. He pressed a button, and the massive roof of the assembly line began to rumble with mechanical noise. Like the doors of a missile silo, the roof slowly opened to both sides.

A few minutes later, the roof was completely open.

From their current angle, they couldn’t see the Cloud-class Warship inside, but everyone present knew that the Chamber’s most powerful military asset was right there. Like a legendary divine weapon about to be revealed, the mere act of opening the roof created an inexplicable sense of pressure.

This pressure didn’t come from the ship itself, but from the hearts of those who had seen its design plans.

After the roof was open, Liu Chuanteng handed the controller to Zhou Yuanqiang. “Chairman, this controller is the key to starting the Cloud-class Warship. This historic moment should be yours to finalize.”

“Rest assured, the Cloud-class Warship uses the most advanced intelligent system from the Information Department and can be fully automated.”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t refuse. He pressed down firmly on one of the red buttons.

Immediately, a clear female mechanical voice boomed from the assembly line: “The Starry Sky is starting. Running diagnostics. Energy system: Normal. Thruster system: Normal. Stability system: Normal. Armor system: Normal. Weapon system: Normal… Diagnostics complete. All systems normal. Starting countdown: 10, 9, 8…”

Liu Chuanteng explained, “This is the programmed sequence. For the first start-up, just like a computer, it needs a self-check. Future starts won’t be this complicated because the Starry Sky will only perform a self-check upon receiving a command, or once every ten flights. Of course, the voice you hear is amplified; it can be turned off or on as needed during setup.”

As the ten-second countdown ended, a flash of fire erupted from the assembly line, followed by a massive roar. Like an atomic explosion, the billowing smoke immediately engulfed the entire structure. The ground trembled as if an earthquake were happening, causing everyone to nearly lose their balance.

Amidst the dense smoke, a dark shadow appeared. It quickly broke through the smoke and began to rise vertically into the air.

Moments later, the Starry Sky warship leapt into everyone’s view. Its design was essentially a mix of a naval warship and a spaceship. It had no wings; the six levitation engines on its belly were what allowed it to remain stable in the air. The hull was made of steel and a fiber material even harder than steel, capable of withstanding any currently known conventional weapons. Even a main battle tank using armor-piercing shells would find it impossible to penetrate the ship’s weakest armor point.

It was no exaggeration to say that against conventional weapons, it was practically invincible, save for the weak points in its engines.

That was it—the Chamber’s most powerful weapon. From the completion of its design, the manufacturing process had taken two years. Construction had started at the same time as the Brood Mother class aerial carrier. When the first carrier was finished, the Starry Sky was only partially complete. It wasn’t until the second carrier entered service with the Second Military District that the final assembly of the Starry Sky began. It had taken exactly two years and two-and-a-half months to finish.

One’s first impression upon seeing it would be that of a spaceship. Wingless and forged from black steel, it featured numerous protrusions that were anti-aircraft guns. Thousands of missile launchers were built into the hull, capable of firing over a thousand missiles simultaneously.

In just three minutes, the Starry Sky—the iron beast replacing the tank—had risen to an altitude of 2,000 meters. With the activation of its two super thrusters, its speed accelerated to several hundred kilometers per hour within seconds, and it continued to streak into the sky at a 45-degree angle.

The appearance of the Starry Sky truly altered the future of humanity. It wasn’t just a warship; more importantly, it opened a door for humanity toward a much broader space. Although it would still take a long time to walk among the stars like in sci-fi movies, the appearance of the Starry Sky would infinitely shorten that process.

Chapter 377: Snow-Longing and the Small Town

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t particularly care for the northern climate. This was mainly because, as a southerner, he was used to weather that felt like eternal spring. In the south, when a cold front hit and the temperature dropped to twelve or thirteen degrees, people would already be shivering so hard their teeth chattered. With that kind of cold resistance, going to the north—where it could be a few degrees, or even ten to thirty degrees below zero—was nothing short of a disaster.

To be precise, the only thing that attracted southerners to the north was the snow—the vast, boundless white snow.

He had always experienced the colorful lives of northerners in the snow through novels, movies, and essays. Their childhood memories were inseparable from the snow: ice skating, sledding, snowball fights, building snowmen, climbing snowy mountains, and so on. These were the unforgettable memories of northerners. It seemed every country child in the north had a story about cracking open a layer of ice to catch fish coming up for air.

Naturally, it was impossible for Zhou Yuanqiang to have such memories, as he had never been to the north. To put it bluntly, in his twenty-seven years of life, he had never seen real snow outside of movies, nor had he even touched man-made snow. He was a southerner to the core. His life experiences had absolutely no connection to northern snow.

If nothing unexpected had happened—namely, if he hadn’t obtained the spatial ring—Zhou Yuanqiang estimated he might never have encountered snow in his entire life.

In the month of August, there was almost no snow to speak of in the north. Most areas were clear; the temperature was in the twenties in some places, the teens in others, and only a few cities saw it drop to six or seven degrees. Thus, Zhou Yuanqiang, who had originally thought he might get a taste of real snow, was destined to be disappointed.

Zhou Yuanqiang had set foot on this northern land via a military airship. He had traveled by sea until he reached the Bohai Sea, landing on a small island off the coast of Dalian. From there, he took an attack helicopter over the Dalian skyline and flew past the city. Only after landing did he stow the helicopter back into his storage space and begin walking inland along the highway.

It wasn’t that Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t want to fly the attack helicopter directly to his destination, but this was already the Northern General’s sphere of influence. Flaunting his presence so openly simply wouldn’t work. One had to remember that the General had hundreds of fighter jets at his disposal, and they were not to be trifled with.

Zhou Yuanqiang had two purposes for coming here—or perhaps it could be seen as one.

The primary reason was that when he accepted his Ring Task, he received an exploration task. Perhaps because of its difficulty, the reward was a staggering 200% experience. Considering the entire campaign task for Shanghai only awarded 500% experience, one could imagine how difficult a “small” exploration task with such a rich reward would be; it certainly wouldn’t be an easy walk in the park.

However, calling it “difficult” wasn’t entirely accurate either, as it merely required him to explore several northern cities to complete the task.

Why say there were two purposes, yet also one? Because the Ring Task aligned with his own personal desires. He wanted to experience the northern snow for himself, gain a deeper understanding of the situation in the north, and gather more intelligence on the region.

The north also held millions of people, and the General’s power was growing at an alarming rate. Relying solely on the spies he had planted previously made it impossible to get all the data he needed. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t think he was some peerless genius, but he was certain of one thing: he was stronger than those spies. Don’t forget, his current ring level wasn’t 17, but 23.

The 500% experience reward from the campaign task for reclaiming Shanghai had already been credited. This had boosted Zhou Yuanqiang’s level by five, bringing him to level 23. His reinforced state had reached an incredible 69 times his original strength, and he had unlocked two new skills at level 18 and level 21.

The benefits of leveling up were numerous. After surpassing level 20, Zhou Yuanqiang could clearly feel a qualitative leap in his physical form. Specifically, his skin density had increased, and his healing factor had become much faster. Some objects that weren’t particularly sharp found it difficult to even pierce his high-density skin cells.

This discovery indicated that as his level increased, he would one day become a superhuman who was invulnerable to blades and bullets. As for exactly what level he needed to reach for that, only heaven knew. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t know, nor did he care; all he needed to do was keep leveling up until his life was completely secure.

It was this increase in ability that gave Zhou Yuanqiang his confidence.

If there was intelligence he couldn’t get through normal means, couldn’t he just use his abnormal abilities to steal it? With his prowess, he was far beyond what any spy could achieve, even if they were the elite among ordinary humans.

The only thing Zhou Yuanqiang regretted was that since stepping onto northern soil, he hadn’t seen the snow he had imagined. It seemed that unless he headed toward the Greater Khingan Mountains, he might not see snow at all. Since he rarely followed the news or northern trivia, he truly didn’t know where in the north one could still find snow to play in during August.

Maybe Changchun, Harbin, or further north in Heilongjiang?

The Northern General’s power was growing by the day, but in Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes, the General was no longer an opponent on his level. Large cities like Dalian were still the domain of zombies, and places like the Capital and Shijiazhuang were devoid of human life, packed with dense crowds of zombies that still ruled the most developed northern cities.

Regarding Dalian, Zhou Yuanqiang was certainly tempted. He was calculating whether he should send the Commercial Association’s meager navy to dismantle and haul away Dalian’s shipyards one by one.

Walking along the highway, the scenery was no different from what he had seen before. The roads were filled with abandoned cars, and the villages were full of wandering zombies. This clearly showed that no humans had been here for a long time. Although this was the north, it wasn’t an area controlled by the General yet; it was still in the hands of the zombies.

Zhou Yuanqiang treated this exploration trip as a vacation to relax. The task’s time limit was generous, enough for him to properly appreciate the northern scenery.

Based on his intelligence, Zhou Yuanqiang had a map of the entire region controlled by the Northern General, so he knew where the General’s sphere of influence began. After walking along the highway for half a day and realizing he was still quite a distance from the nearest settlement, he simply pulled out a motorcycle and sped along the empty road. The only things he had to watch out for were the abandoned cars acting as obstacles.

With a motorcycle, he moved much faster than on foot. After traveling two or three hundred kilometers, he finally arrived near the first settlement shown in his intelligence reports.

Stowing the motorcycle away, Zhou Yuanqiang pulled a series of makeup and disguise tools from his storage space. In just over ten minutes, his appearance was completely transformed, turning him into a total stranger. He didn’t bother disguising himself with northern physical traits because it wasn’t necessary; intelligence reports showed a massive number of southerners lived here as well. Some had worked in the north before the apocalypse, while others had fled here. His southern features were very common and wouldn’t make him a target of suspicion.

The northern system was interesting; they still followed the administrative structure from before the apocalypse.

The General had been able to grow his population from a few hundred thousand to nearly ten times that amount, and Zhou Yuanqiang knew this was entirely thanks to the existence of the exciter. It was because of the Crystal Warriors that the General held the power in war and was able to annex all the northern factions. Furthermore, within a single year, he had repeatedly captured military bases to arm himself, making his forces even stronger.

However, this kind of growth was nothing compared to the Commercial Association, which had already completed its industrial accumulation. The Commercial Association could now produce two fighter jets a day, with a maximum capacity of three. In a month, they could create an entire aviation regiment—something far beyond the General’s capabilities.

As for Crystal Warriors, although the Commercial Association’s excitation technology was originally derived from the north, Zhou Yuanqiang believed his own technology had already surpassed theirs, the student outstripping the teacher.

Regarding his attitude toward the north, Zhou Yuanqiang could only describe it as “one mountain cannot hold two tigers.” It was impossible for the General to give up the power he had spent seven and a half years building. Just as Zhou Yuanqiang himself would never let go of the power he held.

He controlled all of South China, Central China, and West China—a territory three times larger than the General’s North China. Moreover, his military strength was more than ten times that of the General. From this perspective, the one who truly needed to worry was the General, not him. Overall, the initiative was in ZYQ’s hands; the north was entirely on the defensive.

The General couldn’t possibly be ignorant of the Commercial Association’s existence, but why hadn’t there been any contact between the two, despite being so close?

Undoubtedly, both sides shared a single goal: to hold onto their own power and ensure they weren’t dismantled or absorbed. But sometimes Zhou Yuanqiang wondered: could a man as smart as the General really not see the potential of the Commercial Association and the military power it currently possessed?

The only explanation was that the General must possess some power that gave him immense confidence—something the spies had yet to discover.

As a settlement blocking the path to Dalian, this place could also be described as a military defensive point. Within tens of kilometers of the settlement, the number of zombies began to grow dense. Groups of three, five, or seven were slowly moving toward the settlement located a few dozen kilometers away.

In the Commercial Association’s territory, such zombie attacks only occurred in regions north of Shanghai; they were a thing of the past in South, Central, and West China. Large numbers of patrolling military airships would gun down any zombies they spotted. Vast numbers of soldiers clearing the land appeared in mountains, villages, and cities to eliminate any hidden zombies.

Thinking about how the Commercial Association had once gone through this stage, Zhou Yuanqiang, who hadn’t experienced a zombie attack in a year and a half, felt a strange sense of familiarity seeing this.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s appearance caused some trouble for the zombies. They couldn’t catch this human, they couldn’t scare him away, and they couldn’t beat him, whether in a duel or a group fight. If they had consciousness, they would surely feel miserable, because the man before them was toys with them purely for his own amusement.

Indeed, with Zhou Yuanqiang’s current abilities, he was no different from a superhuman, except he couldn’t fly. Navigating through zombies was a piece of cake. He didn’t even draw his giant sword; using only a Crystal Warrior’s battle blade, heads rolled wherever he went as if he were slicing vegetables.

Amidst the slaughter, he finally spotted a tall defensive wall in the distance and heard the intermittent sound of gunfire.

Finding a small ridge, he hid in the woods and observed through binoculars. He could see a small number of soldiers on the wall. They were stationed at firing ports with rifles, but they weren’t firing freely. The gunshots came from soldiers equipped with scopes who were picking off high-level zombies and Special Infected. Other soldiers patrolled the wall, showing no interest in the mass of zombies outside, simply walking their routes mechanically.

This appeared to be a small town that had been walled off to become a settlement. it also served as a military outpost guarding this passage.

Behind the defensive wall, the unique characteristics of a northern town hadn’t faded despite the apocalypse. People could be seen strolling through the streets from time to time. The inhabitants seemed to have no fear of the zombies surrounding the town, continuing their lives as usual.

After seven and a half years of the apocalypse, what hadn’t they experienced? Living in the presence of zombies had long since become a part of life. Their understanding of zombies let them know that as long as the soldiers guarded them, the zombies outside couldn’t possibly breach the walls.

Zhou Yuanqiang wondered—the town looked like it had been surrounded for a long time; didn’t they need to replenish their supplies?

The answer was soon revealed as an airship appeared in the distant sky. Its size was very similar to the Type II transport airships of the Commercial Association, but it definitely wasn’t one of theirs. It lacked the seven-colored umbrella logo, and many details were quite different. It looked like an airship developed by the North.

“They sure learn fast, but what can they do with airship technology only now?”

Zhou Yuanqiang only felt a cold sneer. The reason was simple: when the Commercial Association developed airships, it wasn’t that they lacked technology or manufacturing capability—they had both. However, the amount of helium required for one airship was enormous. It was only thanks to his ability to bring it from the modern world that the Commercial Association’s airship fleet could develop so rapidly.

The Northern General couldn’t replicate him. Intelligence reports mentioned that they could build the ships relatively quickly, but their rate of helium extraction was pitifully slow. It often took three to four months to get a single transport airship into the air. Compared to the Commercial Association’s three factories, which could produce over a dozen a week, there was simply no competition.

Spies weren’t as common as cabbages; they couldn’t be placed everywhere. A small town like this wasn’t the kind of place a spy would usually be stationed, so Zhou Yuanqiang was completely in the dark about its specifics.

During the day, there were patrols and soldiers on the walls. No matter how fast he was, he would still cast a shadow; he couldn’t just leap over the wall in broad daylight. So, Zhou Yuanqiang checked the time and used his teleportation to return to Somalia in the modern world to deal with the backlog of matters there.

When the sky in the apocalypse world grew dark, Zhou Yuanqiang reappeared on the ridge.

The entire town was surrounded by zombies, but Zhou Yuanqiang had observed that the zombies were thinner at the rear of the town, barely allowing enough space for him to slip in. Now that night had fallen, he didn’t linger. He descended the ridge and circled toward the back of the town.

Even if his skin density had increased, he wouldn’t gamble with his life by not using Armor Art. After activating Armor Art, he pulled out a large black cloth and wrapped himself in it. Once it was secured, he activated Gravity Manipulation, boosting his speed to the maximum, and darted toward a section of the wall where no soldiers were stationed.

The effect of Gravity Manipulation was only on the external environment; it didn’t negatively affect his own movement. Utilizing this, the zombies he passed along the way suddenly shuddered. Although they weren’t instantly crushed flat by the gravity, it made their movements sluggish like snails. Against Zhou Yuanqiang, who streaked past like the wind, they could barely twitch a finger.

“Seems like something’s happening!”

A soldier seemed to have noticed something unusual in the zombies below. He saw a path where the zombies suddenly seemed pressed down, dropping half their height. Though it returned to normal in an eye-blink, the disturbed state of the zombies told him something had definitely appeared.

Unfortunately, it was too dark below, and the searchlights hadn’t hit that spot yet, so he couldn’t see clearly.

His companion looked for a moment, and seeing nothing under the searchlight, he mocked, “What situation? You’re probably just seeing things.”

The soldier rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “How could it be gone? I clearly saw the zombies getting restless just now.” He searched hard for a moment but finally concluded he must have truly been seeing things. He checked a few more times, but finding nothing, he muttered a bit and moved his attention elsewhere.

Zhou Yuanqiang secretly wiped away a bead of sweat. He was currently clinging to the wall. If they had been more careful, he would have had to use the teleportation function to avoid being caught. Fortunately, it hadn’t come to that; he didn’t want to teleport back only to fall off the wall later.

Taking advantage of their diverted attention, Zhou Yuanqiang made several leaps and finally slipped inside the defensive wall, vanishing into the pitch-black streets of the small town.

Chapter 378: Trouble Arrives

The town wasn’t very populated and had many empty houses. Zhou Yuanqiang found one, ducked inside, and simply teleported away.

He worked in Somalia until midnight. Due to the time difference, it was exactly six in the morning on the apocalyptic continent. After enjoying a steaming hot late-night snack, Zhou Yuanqiang reappeared in the northern town the next morning. People’s voices could already be heard outside as the residents began to wake up one after another.

With Zhou Yuanqiang’s constitution, going without sleep for ten days or half a month wouldn’t affect him at all. His mental strength was sixty-nine times that of an ordinary person, and combined with his powerful physique, he didn’t need to worry about sleep deprivation. By utilizing the time difference and the teleportation function of the spatial ring, he could manage both the modern world and the apocalypse simultaneously.

The Commercial Association no longer needed him to personally transport supplies. Even for precision electronic components, they had Guangdong Province under their control. As the continent’s largest electronics hub, countless high-end electronic laboratories and manufacturing plants could provide every component the Commercial Association required. For certain key parts that needed importing, the stockpiles recovered from reclaiming over half the continent’s territory were enough to keep the Association’s manufacturing running smoothly for twenty years.

With twenty years and the massive talent pool concentrated within the Commercial Association, solving these key component and technical issues was practically guaranteed.

Zhou Yuanqiang believed that the biggest problem with modern nations lay in the utilization of talent. Bureaucracy, lack of coordination between units, and inadequate funding severely restricted technological development and prevented industrial manufacturing standards from rising. The Commercial Association was different; as an autocratic political regime, all departments accepted the Association’s coordination unconditionally. In the apocalypse, there was no such thing as “funding” issues, as the supplies available to them, enough to last seventy years, allowed them to spend lavishly on research.

Technologies that would often take modern nations years to overcome took only a few months—or even less—within the Commercial Association.

The population of the entire town was around eight thousand, with five thousand regular troops. They had lived here for seven and a half years, so everyone had a familiar impression of one another. Even though Zhou Yuanqiang was wearing a disguise, he was still an outsider barging in. It wouldn’t be a problem in the short term, but if he stayed for too long, he would definitely be suspected.

Considering this, Zhou Yuanqiang thought it over and simply used makeup to make his face look like he had taken a nasty fall, all bruised and battered. As long as he didn’t use excessive language or make aggressive movements, he shouldn’t have to worry about raising the residents’ suspicions for a few days. Once he successfully completed the exploration task in this town, he wouldn’t have to worry about running into trouble.

Leaving his hiding spot, Zhou Yuanqiang found the residents all heading in the same direction.

Blending into the crowd, he saw they were heading toward the town square. Zhou Yuanqiang remembered that the transport airship from yesterday had landed in the square. It seemed the airship provided the supplies for the entire town’s consumption. However, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t understand why they would keep nearly eight thousand people living here when this town could be used entirely as a military fortress.

When they reached the square, it was a sea of people, but they were consciously forming dozens of long queues.

There were no soldiers maintaining order. Judging by the spontaneous behavior of the people, they were likely accustomed to this self-disciplined lifestyle. Surrounded by the dozens of queues in the center of the square were dozens of stalls. Basket after basket of steaming hot steamed buns looked like a vast expanse of white. There was also a huge wooden barrel at each stall. Just from the scent, Zhou Yuanqiang knew the barrels were filled with thick soy milk.

“Free breakfast, and it’s quite hearty—steamed buns and soy milk. It’s a very ordinary Northern breakfast, yet it feels so heartwarming…”

Back when he had first arrived at the wilderness settlement, he had also relied on an seemingly endless supply of grain, using a “rice offensive” to win everyone over. As a successful leader, he could often see many underlying implications in a single event.

Now, Zhou Yuanqiang finally understood why the General let the townspeople continue living here instead of moving them away to turn the place into a pure military town or a fortress against the zombies. His true intention lay in these distributed rations. What he needed was for these people, in their plight, to gradually accept his benevolence and feel a profound sense of gratitude. This allowed him to maintain firm control over the entire North.

The root cause was still the powerful rise of the Commercial Association. It had made the General feel a massive sense of crisis. Only by firmly grasping the hearts of the people could he have an inexhaustible supply of soldiers willing to die for him.

Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head and muttered somewhat ironically, “It seems politicians in this world all have extreme depth. They’ll sell you out while you help them count the money. This method isn’t particularly sophisticated, but people in a desperate situation will only think about the food he’s giving out; they won’t stop to think about who exactly let them be besieged here in the first place.”

The brilliance of such tactics was far beyond what Zhou Yuanqiang would have come up with. Beyond shaking his head, he felt a sense of sorrow. In the end, only one side of the North and South could remain. The stronger the resistance, the more people would die. For Zhou Yuanqiang, who hadn’t yet achieved a heart of stone, this made him feel conflicted.

Only those who had received their steamed buns and soy milk would leave the square to eat elsewhere.

Zhou Yuanqiang had already eaten a late-night snack in modern Somalia—which counted as breakfast in the apocalypse—and didn’t really want to squeeze into the line. However, seeing everyone walking toward the square, if he turned back now without any buns, he would surely draw suspicious technological glances.

Out of necessity, he found a line and joined it.

After waiting for over ten minutes, it was finally Zhou Yuanqiang’s turn. Each bun weighed 250g. Two buns were enough to fill up a tall Northern man. Combined with a bowl of soy milk, the liquid would expand the buns in the stomach. No matter how much you could eat, you would feel full.

Zhou Yuanqiang took a few bites. Having not eaten a bun in a long time, he thought the taste was decent. He could tell they weren’t made purely from coarse flour; the quality was medium, which was quite generous.

Following the example of others, he found a spot under a tree, squatted down, and began devouring the two buns. Many people finished their buns in just a few bites, washed them down with soy milk, threw the disposable plastic cups into an adjacent trash bin, and then started chatting with the people they knew nearby.

Although the people here faced life with optimism, being besieged like this for a long time wasn’t a sustainable solution.

Staying inside, they didn’t have to worry about food because of the transport airships. But the town was the only place they could move around in. There was no electricity and no entertainment. How was this any different from being in prison? Some forward-thinking individuals even became worried. If the transport line were cut, wouldn’t everyone in this zombie-surrounded town eventually starve to death?

“Why don’t we organize and break out? Being trapped here without freedom—how is that different from being dead?” Zhou Yuanqiang tested the waters.

Unexpectedly, the people chatting nearby just rolled their eyes at him. One bearded middle-aged man chuckled and said, “You youngsters really don’t know the height of the sky or the depth of the earth. Do you know how many zombies are out there? With just us, without weapons, what are we going to charge with? As they say, one move affects the whole body. If we try to break out, those zombies will be like cats smelling fish. Anyway, I’ve got no such intentions. Staying here, I’ll take it one day at a time.”

“If only that Commercial Association from the South were here. I heard they’ve already wiped out the zombies across most of the continent. I really don’t know what we’re waiting for here.”

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang say this, several people nearby looked over with shining eyes and whispered, “Brother, do you have some news? I wonder if that Association from the South—Yuan-something?—would help us. The General is decent, but dealing with the zombies in the cities is easier said than done.”

Most of their information was spread by spies, so what they knew was naturally limited.

Zhou Yuanqiang lowered his voice and said, “I don’t have news, I just heard more than you guys did back then. I heard from Old Li that the one called… right, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, takes only a day or two to reclaim a city. I really don’t know why the General is dragging his feet, only taking some second and third-tier cities. When will we be able to go wherever we want as freely as before?”

The group all nodded. Zhou Yuanqiang’s words resonated with their inner desires. But thinking about their current reality, they all shook their heads and sighed.

The reactions of these few showed that everyone craved freedom. No matter how well they were treated, it wasn’t as good as being given their freedom. Moreover, their attitude toward the Commercial Association hadn’t been completely warped by the General’s propaganda. As the saying goes, “The eyes of the people are sharp!” No matter how perfect the propaganda, there would always be skeptics.

Zhou Yuanqiang knew that talking too much would eventually lead to a slip-up, so he stopped while he was ahead. He made an excuse and began wandering around the town.

The requirements for exploring the town were very simple. He just had to do a lap, and once he received the notification, the exploration for this town would be considered complete. The catch was that a single task often required him to personally visit several locations, some near and some far, so it couldn’t always be finished in a day or two.

Of course, if he wasn’t afraid of being shot down by enemy fighter jets, he could finish a task given by the ring in a day or two by flying a jet.

If the Starry Sky weren’t still undergoing testing, Zhou Yuanqiang wouldn’t have minded flying it to complete the task. With the Starry Sky’s capabilities, the Northern missiles would likely only be able to stare helplessly. He could have completed the task openly and, as a side effect, take the General down a peg and give him some pressure to see if he’d still think about playing his hand.

After finishing the lap and confirming he had completed the exploration task for the town, Zhou Yuanqiang looked at the soldiers on the defensive wall and shook his head. He knew that if he wanted to leave, he would have to wait until nightfall. During the day, the soldiers’ vision wouldn’t be hindered by darkness; he couldn’t exactly waltz away right under their noses, could he?

The townspeople, having finished breakfast, became idle, gathering together to brag and chat. That was how life went here.

Zhou Yuanqiang seemed to lose interest in this and leaned boredly against a tree. But a moment later, a sharp siren suddenly blared from the defensive wall, making the whole town seem to tremble. The people who were chatting all froze upon hearing the siren, then rushed toward the defensive wall regardless of everything else.

Seeing everyone doing this, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t hesitate and followed the crowd toward the wall.

The defensive wall surrounding the town was seven meters high and three meters wide, providing enough space for activity. The town’s residents seemed to have practiced this as they ran toward different sections of the wall. Zhou Yuanqiang was a bit worried that an outsider like him appearing on the wall would be suspected by those around him.

But his worry was unnecessary because everyone’s expressions were panicked; who would have the time to notice the person next to them?

When Zhou Yuanqiang followed the people to the foot of the wall, he did as those in front of him did. Near the top of the wall, he grabbed a spear from the rows of stacked spears and broadswords and climbed up. One could guess even with their toes that something very dangerous had happened to require the residents to mobilize as well.

Sure enough, when Zhou Yuanqiang stood on the wall, he could see a mountain-like black dot moving toward the town from the far distance.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyesight was excellent, but without binoculars, he couldn’t determine exactly what kind of zombie this mountain-like black dot was. If it was a Giant Zombie, its volume didn’t seem quite that massive. Could it be a species of zombie I’ve never seen before?

Considering that the volume of this black dot was two to three times larger than a Giant Zombie, Zhou Yuanqiang felt his scalp tingle. This thing was nearly fifteen or sixteen meters tall.

Looking back at the town and then at the defensive wall that was only seven meters high, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled bitterly. In front of this creature, the entire town was at most like a dollhouse. How were they supposed to stop it? A seven-meter wall could block ordinary zombies, but to stop this big guy? One step and the whole town would be a tragedy.

Think about the Giant Zombie—could ordinary bullets kill it? Even tank shells could be ignored through its freakish skin transformations. And every special zombie had a unique ability, or more accurately, a skill.

As his vision was quite good, Zhou Yuanqiang saw the person who was likely the commander-in-chief of this town standing some distance away. He was constantly observing with binoculars and making troop assignments. It looked like he intended to duke it out with this massive creature.

“Damn, I wonder if that guy’s head got caught in a door. You don’t even need to look to know they can’t stop it. The best way would be to find a weak point in the zombie lines and break out with everything before this big guy arrives. Only then would the people in the town have a slim chance of survival.”

Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head bitterly. Truly, the incompetence of a single general exhausts the whole army. Did this commander not understand zombies well enough?

Unfortunately, given Zhou Yuanqiang’s current identity, he couldn’t exactly run over and warn him. Or perhaps he had misjudged the situation, and this big guy wasn’t actually that scary and could be handled with a few bullets? If that were the case, wouldn’t he just be making a fool of himself? However, the looks in the eyes of the people nearby were like they had seen a ghost; it didn’t look like something that could be settled with a few bullets.

“Which bastard took an extra weapon?”

While Zhou Yuanqiang was lost in thought, a curse rang out from the foot of the wall.

Zhou Yuanqiang turned back and peeked over the edge. He saw a young man around twenty-five or twenty-six stamping his feet in frustration. The reason was simple: with Zhou Yuanqiang taking an extra weapon, there was naturally one less for those who were supposed to have them. This unlucky guy had arrived late and was left facing an empty rack.

It was a moment of high tension, so who would care about that?

Seeing that no one was paying him any mind, the young man could only look around the area. He picked up a broken tree branch and squeezed his way onto the wall. At the very least, this man wasn’t a coward; even without a weapon, he was brave enough to come up and fight the zombies. No wonder in ancient times, the combat strength of Northerners was generally higher than that of Southerners.

Everyone on the wall watched intently as the mountain-like zombie moved closer in the distance.

The big guy wasn’t coming alone; it was followed by a massive group of underlings like a flood. Some of the faster ones were naturally the vanguard. They formed the first wave, running frantically and using their speed to swarm toward the town. However, their speed had to slow down once they reached the wall because a large number of zombies already surrounded the wall, blocking their way.

It wasn’t until the big guy got closer and its silhouette could finally be vaguely seen that everyone felt a chill rise from the bottom of their hearts.

Zhou Yuanqiang was also dumbfounded. He was wondering why he hadn’t noticed this big guy when he bypassed Dalian. Clearly, his attack helicopter must have startled this massive creature, causing it to leave Dalian and head straight for the town.

Calculated this way, it seemed he was the one who had brought disaster upon the town?

Zhou Yuanqiang licked his lips. It seemed his plan to grease his soles and slip away wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t just stand by and watch five thousand soldiers and eight thousand residents get trampled under the feet of this massive thing.

Chapter 379: Dissecting the “Ox”

Close, it was getting closer…

Everyone’s heart was in their throat.

With every step the mountain-sized zombie took in the distance, the people on the defensive wall felt their hearts tremble. A chilling sensation surged from the soles of their feet to their hearts, then spread throughout their entire bodies. Cold sweat broke out across their foreheads, drenching their clothes. Some people’s teeth began to chatter, making a rhythmic “clatter” sound.

Under normal circumstances, zombies weren’t that terrifying. Who among those present hadn’t killed at least a dozen or so?

But now, look at what was coming. This behemoth was sixteen or seventeen meters tall, and its face was horrifying. Its nose and mouth had completely rotted away, sinking deep into its head, revealing its tonsils quivering in its throat. At a glance, its entire face looked like a massive, pitch-black, bloody maw. It was utterly ghoulish.

When they considered that a human’s height wouldn’t even reach the flesh of its ankle, how were they supposed to fight this thing?

Everyone was filled with fear and despair. They wanted to run, but where could they go? This giant was already right in front of them, and they were surrounded by a sea of zombies. There was no longer any chance to escape. Just the thought of what would happen if the town fell made everyone feel the breath of death rising from the depths of hell.

Even Zhou Yuanqiang could only manage a bitter smile. This big guy truly exceeded his expectations.

It was simply too massive. Before it, humans were like ants to an elephant. Looking at its legs, it would probably take two or three people joining hands to even get halfway around one.

The Creator truly was mysterious, to have engineered such a virus. And the virus itself was even more miraculous; through different genetic expressions, it could act freely, turning humans into regular zombies, special infected, or even manifesting these terrifying mutated species.

Zhou Yuanqiang realized he could name dozens of different types of special infected.

However, this was the first time he had ever seen a super zombie as colossal as a mountain. Compared to it, a Giant Zombie was like a small fry—there was simply no comparison. This forced Zhou Yuanqiang to lament, “Even zombies have the potential for Northern height. I thought the Giant Zombies were big enough, but those must have been Southerners. This one here truly fits the mutation patterns of a Northerner!”

When zombies weren’t agitated, they would be quite calm even if they were surrounding a wall, behaving as quietly as well-behaved children.

However, once something stimulated them, it was like a contagion; they would become frenzied and launch their assault. The zombies, which had been calm until now, grew restless upon the arrival of this Fear-class super zombie. They began to push and shove, and within moments, they formed an offensive wave, charging recklessly toward the town.

Although the defensive wall was seven meters high, it wouldn’t obstruct the frenzied zombies for long. They would surge forward in wave after wave, stacking upon one another until they slowly piled up to the height of the wall. Once the mass of remaining zombies reached a certain point, they would surge over like a flood, becoming something humans could not possibly withstand.

With this giant helping them now, the situation was even more dire. They might not even hold out for ten minutes.

As a town on the front lines of defense, they couldn’t possibly rely solely on rifles. As soon as the giant reached attacking range, several commanders bellowed orders, and over a dozen artillery pieces hidden within the town began to speak in unison. This artillery fire was aimed entirely at covering the super zombie. It seemed the commander here hadn’t retreated because these cannons were his greatest trump card.

Zhou Yuanqiang licked his lips with a hint of disdain.

If zombies were really that easy to deal with, he would have reclaimed the southern provinces two years ago; he wouldn’t have waited until now. If they were that easy, humanity wouldn’t be in its current predicament. After seven and a half years of living through this apocalyptic nightmare, only now was there finally a glimmer of hope that the end was in sight.

Just as Zhou Yuanqiang suspected, the fierce artillery fire exploded in clusters of billowing smoke around the super zombie. Terrifying shrapnel unleashed massive power at that moment, sinking piece by piece into the super zombie’s muscles. The tearing force created by the overpressure would often rip large chunks of flesh from its body. In just half a minute, the super zombie no longer even looked like a humanoid corpse.

Despite suffering such heavy trauma, the super zombie acted as if nothing had happened, continuing its relentless advance.

Its massive soles ruthlessly trampled other zombies, crushing them into puddles of gore. Zhou Yuanqiang even saw a zombie under its lifted foot that had been impaled by its own bone onto the giant’s sole; as the super zombie moved, it was repeatedly slammed into the zombie crowd like a human pancake.

The bloody wounds caused by the artillery fire were healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

“Hiss…”

Everyone who saw this gasped in unison. It wasn’t that they hadn’t seen zombies with healing abilities, but this speed was far too shocking. With a healing rate like that, it was destined to be an almost invincible existence. No matter how heavy the injury, it could recover to its original state in moments. How were they supposed to fight that?

Even Zhou Yuanqiang cursed under his breath, “An undying cockroach.”

He personally saw a shell explode right next to the super zombie’s head. Despite the heavy blow, it acted as if it were nothing, stepping seven or eight meters forward in a single stride. It was as if the rule that a zombie’s head was its only fatal weakness didn’t apply to it.

Even more terrifyingly, when it was still seven or eight hundred meters from the town, it suddenly burst into a sprint just like a Giant Zombie, charging forward like a rampaging tank. The zombies surrounding the town were like seawater before it; they were pushed aside as the super zombie slammed through them.

“My god!”

The people seeing the super zombie’s charge had already fallen into a panic. The section of the wall the giant was aiming for became a complete uproar as people desperately pushed and shoved to get out of the way. Some in their haste jumped directly from the top of the wall toward the back of the town. Those poor souls—this was a seven-meter wall, nearly two stories high. Because they jumped in a panic, more than half of them landed with screams of agony; a few even lost consciousness, and only a small portion remained uninjured, running into the town for their lives.

“Snipers, fire! Fire!”

The commander’s roar could still be heard from afar, followed by a cacophony of gunfire that sounded like firecrackers. A large number of soldiers acting as snipers used rifles equipped with scopes to continuously target the charging super zombie. Once it was within five or six hundred meters, they aimed almost exclusively for its noseless and mouthless face.

The super zombie in full sprint was even more terrifying than a Giant Zombie; the distance of several hundred meters vanished in the blink of an eye.

With a loud thud, the entire wall trembled. The super zombie’s thigh slammed violently into the defensive wall. This seven-meter-high, three-meter-wide wall developed countless cracks that rapidly expanded until, with a deafening boom, a section of it collapsed.

Those who hadn’t managed to escape in time were immediately tossed into the sky like that commander from the old movies, turning into twinkling stars before disappearing into the horizon.

That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but a dozen or so unlucky souls were indeed thrown over a dozen meters into the air. When they fell, they looked like flattened frogs, clearly not destined to survive. The others weren’t thrown quite as high, but it was like dumplings falling into a pot; they all slid off the wall and tumbled down, dazed and disoriented.

The people who had just jumped down and broken their limbs were even more tragic. As the section of the wall collapsed, it crushed them under its heavy weight, burying them alive.

The super zombie didn’t pause. Its massive fist smashed down onto the top of the wall, pulping the crowd trapped there. Crimson blood instantly stained the entire wall crest a bright red. Under the rising sun, it looked incredibly macabre, like blooming flowers of death.

The other zombies hadn’t yet reacted to the breach the super zombie had opened. But it was foreseeable that it was only a matter of time. From the moment the wall was breached, unless a miracle occurred, the fate of the town was sealed. All 13,000 people would be torn apart by the zombies.

As people stood shocked by the power of the super zombie, fear intensified in their hearts. They couldn’t muster any will to resist; their only conscious thought was to flee, flee, flee from this place.

In fact, the moment the super zombie began its charge, Zhou Yuanqiang had jumped down into the town like everyone else. He knew that a charging super zombie was not something human strength could stop; with its mass and speed, it was no different from a high-speed train. The wall’s fate was already decided.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s real goal was to find a place where no one could see him to activate his Armor Art. He couldn’t exactly manifest a full suit of armor in front of everyone, could he? The consequences of that would be very serious; it would lend too much weight to the rumors of him being some kind of deity.

The town lacked any Crystal Warriors. According to information from his spies, the General was currently off fighting in various bases and cities that held important resources, having drawn away almost all the Crystal Warriors under his command. It seemed the pressure from the Commercial Association was indeed immense, to the point of making him act slightly insane.

Inside the town, Zhou Yuanqiang finished activating his Armor Art. By the time he sprinted back out onto the street, he was encased in a suit of shimmering silver armor.

At this point, since no one could recognize him anyway, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t hold back. Running at full power, he was fast as a lightning bolt, a blur passing through the panicked crowd. With a single leap, his body—now carrying a giant sword—soared high into the air, reaching all the way above the super zombie’s head.

“Heh, try a blow to the head.”

Zhou Yuanqiang swung the giant sword in mid-air, a massive windmill-like cleave aimed straight for the super zombie’s skull.

If this strike landed solidly, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t doubt his own strength; combined with the sharpness of the giant sword, it would surely cleave off half the creature’s head.

However, the big guy’s reaction speed far exceeded his expectations. It couldn’t dodge entirely, but its head shifted slightly to the side in a fraction of a second. This caused Zhou Yuanqiang’s giant sword to only slice off its ear before slamming heavily into its shoulder, burying itself deep into the flesh and nearly severing most of the shoulder assembly.

The recoil from the giant sword hitting the bone made his entire arm go numb.

“Damn, why are its bones so freaky? An alloy steel giant sword backed by my strength couldn’t even take off one of its arms.”

Zhou Yuanqiang muttered but didn’t hesitate. Borrowing the force of the strike, he did a mid-air flip, dragging his giant sword as he landed outside the defensive wall. He crushed an unlucky zombie’s bones upon landing, then performed a 360-degree whirlwind strike, slicing over a dozen zombies near the breach into two halves.

This entire process took only a few seconds. The people only saw a blur of silver light charge out of the town, leap high, deliver a massive blow to the super zombie, and then land amidst the zombie horde outside for a whirlwind attack. Suddenly, the outside was a mountain of corpses. In the moment they stood dazed, the zombies surging toward the breach were cleared out completely.

“So… so powerful…”

Upon seeing Zhou Yuanqiang’s armor, the people simply assumed he was a Crystal Warrior. Although the battle armor was quite different, it had the same general aesthetic, so people naturally believed he was one. At a time like this, they weren’t going to research how a Crystal Warrior could jump seventeen or eighteen meters high. Instead, they let out a series of cheers, stopped their retreat, and returned to the top of the wall.

Having just taken a hit from Zhou Yuanqiang’s sword, the super zombie seemed enraged. Like the giant gorilla from King Kong, it slammed its two massive hands into the ground, creating an earthquake-like effect, before swinging its fists around to smash at Zhou Yuanqiang. Keen observers could see that the arm on the shoulder Zhou Yuanqiang had struck was slightly stiff.

Before the super zombie could react, Zhou Yuanqiang’s plan was to clear the zombies at the breach to prevent the town from being overrun.

Seeing the giant fists swinging toward him, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and yelled, “I want to see if you can still grow new limbs with that freakish healing after I hack you into pieces!”

He didn’t change his 360-degree whirlwind attack style. Using his insane speed, he suddenly dashed between the super zombie’s legs…

“Grandmother’s sake, I’ll take your legs first so you can’t move.”

The giant sword, swung with full force, actually cut the air with a sharp “hissing” sound as it slammed into the super zombie’s left calf. Through an impact that made his arm go numb once more, the giant sword did not disappoint. It cut right through the massive lower leg.

The super zombie, losing its balance, tilted sharply, but it still tried to use its hand to swat Zhou Yuanqiang.

“That was the leg, now the hand!”

Enduring the numbness that hadn’t yet faded, Zhou Yuanqiang lunged with the giant sword while suddenly activating Gravity Manipulation. The super zombie’s swatting palm suddenly sagged downward. In that instant, Zhou Yuanqiang leaped again, using his descent to increase the weight of his strike. As he fell, he hacked savagely at the wrist, severing the palm completely.

“Not done yet. That was the left leg, now the right foot, and then the other hand…”

Completely immersed in the slaughter, Zhou Yuanqiang used every trick in his book. Much like the kitchen hand who butchered the ox at the end of New Dragon Gate Inn, the giant sword in his hand never stopped, moving in a frantic blur as he sliced chunks of flesh off the super zombie piece by piece.

The surrounding people could only see a blur of shadows moving, while the air was filled with flying slabs of meat. The flesh on the super zombie’s body was disappearing at a visible rate… slowly revealing the bone beneath, until eventually, only a skeleton remained.

No matter how strong the super zombie’s healing ability was, it couldn’t keep up with Zhou Yuanqiang’s freakish pace. In moments, the meat on its front had been sliced away, leaving a bone frame that was too hard to carve.

The fatal blow came when he hacked its head off at the neck. That hideous head, looking like a giant ball, rolled across the ground the moment it was severed, spinning for a bit before being swallowed by the surrounding zombie horde.

“My… my… Grandmother’s sake… I’m… I’m exhausted.”

Having never done such high-intensity labor, Zhou Yuanqiang’s arms were aching. It wasn’t until he stopped and saw the wretched state of the super zombie that he realized with a shock that he was the one who did it. He had actually dismantled a super zombie… no, it was more like he had performed a total dissection. Was… was this really his style?

But the people in the town didn’t think that way. At this moment, Zhou Yuanqiang was the savior of the town, the legendary hero who had slaughtered the super zombie. The fanaticism in their eyes as they looked at Zhou Yuanqiang was several times more intense than the looks he received in the Commercial Association.

Coming to his senses, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t dare stay a moment longer. He hefted his giant sword and charged back into the endless horde of zombies.

“Damn, if I don’t leave now, when will I? I’m outta here…”

He’d already given them enough of a shock; a little more wouldn’t hurt. Thus, the people saw Zhou Yuanqiang in his shimmering silver armor acting like a bulldozer, pushing through the zombie swarm. Everywhere he went, zombies were sliced in two. Within ten minutes, he had vanished into the sea of undead.

Through binoculars, they could see this legendary Crystal Warrior, having broken through the heavy encirclement, disappear from everyone’s sight at a speed faster than a rabbit…

Chapter 380: Who Robbed Whom?

Having finally broken through the dense encirclement of zombies, Zhou Yuanqiang hid beneath the roots of a tree once he was out of their line of sight. Deactivating his Armor Art, he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Damn his grandmother… I can’t keep playing the Good Samaritan like this.”

Though it looked like easy work, reality was a different story. Zhou Yuanqiang was reinforced, but that reinforcement only increased his strength; it didn’t give him an infinite reservoir of power. All that talk of martial arts masters having endless internal energy was pure nonsense. Try carrying a shoulder pole of water up a mountain a few times and see what happens. It would be a miracle if you weren’t exhausted to the point of collapse.

He had just dissected that big fellow, and while his movements had been as smooth as flowing water—clean, efficient, and decisive—how many times had he needed to swing that giant sword? Did people think carving up a super zombie was that easy? Not to mention, he had to slaughter a bloody path out afterward. To say it wasn’t exhausting would be a blatant lie.

With his armor deactivated, Zhou Yuanqiang rubbed his aching wrists. His only consolation was his freakish constitution; his recovery rate was incredibly high. He was half-dead from exhaustion one moment, but after sitting under the tree for a while and drinking a functional beverage from his storage space, he felt back to normal in no time.

Past the town, zombies were still present, but their numbers were very few. Most were generally drawn toward the town itself.

Walking down the highway alone was a bit too eye-catching, so Zhou Yuanqiang decided to gear himself up, transforming into a fully equipped… Zombie Hunter.

Indeed, in the North, a Zombie Hunter was the best profession for a disguise. While this profession had long since vanished within the Commercial Association’s territory, it was still very much alive here in the North. Just like the early days of the Commercial Association, the primary currencies in the North were gold and crystals, with silver coming in second. For the North to function, a large number of active Zombie Hunters were naturally required.

Zombie Hunters dressed in all sorts of ways. They frequently moved in and out of zombie-infested areas and could obtain supplies that ordinary people could not. Some wore garish clothes, others were more formal. Some wore heavy cotton coats, others wore old police winter uniforms, and some even wore People’s Liberation Army camouflage.

Their attire was a motley mix, but without exception, everyone carried a large pack on their back containing their overnight tents, grain, water, and ammunition.

Zombie Hunters had no fixed residence. They roamed in groups of three to five through zombie-haunted lands, sometimes not returning for two or three days, or even as long as half a month. On bad days, they might never return at all. The massive market for crystals kept the Zombie Hunters exceptionally active, with groups forming various interest-based units.

It was no exaggeration to say that it was because of the Zombie Hunters’ existence that the pressure from zombies was slowly beginning to decrease.

Walking along the highway, Zhou Yuanqiang’s appearance was unremarkable. He wore a set of camouflage fatigues that had been rolled in the dirt a few times and looked quite filthy. His large pack was filled with genuine outdoor survival gear, and aside from his Type 03 rifle being a bit flashy, everything else was ordinary. Even Zhou Yuanqiang himself looked exceptionally average, with nothing to make him stand out.

To make himself more convincing, he hung a crystal bag at his waist, filled with a good half-bag of crystals he had pulled from his storage space.

On the highway, he only occasionally saw a few stray zombies that posed no threat. Looking at this, Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head. The threat of the zombies would eventually pass. As time moved on, humans would increase in number while zombies decreased. Once humanity found their footing and struck back, there would be no room left for the zombies to survive. But how much longer would this profession of Zombie Hunter last?

After the town, he still had to travel about 100 kilometers before reaching a large county.

Zhou Yuanqiang obviously wasn’t going to walk those 100 kilometers. He walked along the highway mainly to admire the scenery of the Northern lands and take advantage of this rare opportunity to experience it. More importantly, along this road, he occasionally ran into groups of Zombie Hunters and the odd small convoy.

If not for those encounters, Zhou Yuanqiang would have used his grass-skimming speed long ago, sprinting down the highway to enjoy the thrill of the run.

A lone ranger like Zhou Yuanqiang—a solo Zombie Hunter—was common in areas where the cities were already under control. But in a place like this, which was clearly the front line, he was an anomaly. Setting aside how one person would deal with zombies closing in from all sides, there were also the snipers from other Zombie Hunters to worry about; a single person was often a prime target.

A six-man group of Zombie Hunters heading toward the town happened to cross paths with Zhou Yuanqiang. Their leader, a middle-aged man, was quite kind-hearted and said, “Brother Tian, I admire your guts, but being out here alone… you need to be careful. We don’t have any ill intentions, but there’s no guarantee others won’t. If the six of us wanted to snatch your crystals, would you give them up or not?”

Facing the well-meaning man, what was Zhou Yuanqiang supposed to say? That he was a superhuman and wasn’t afraid of being robbed?

After politely thanking them, Zhou Yuanqiang actually thought he made a good point. However, to him, it didn’t matter at all. On the contrary, he was almost looking forward to some blind fool picking a fight. With his powerful mental perception, the idea of someone successfully sniping him was virtually impossible.

As is often the case, things you expect don’t happen, and things you don’t expect happen when you’re not looking.

Not long after parting ways with the kind man’s group, several vehicles roared onto the highway. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t pay them much mind and simply continued on his way.

However, a man who looked like a “Skinny Monkey” sitting in one of the vehicles caught sight of the crystal bag at Zhou Yuanqiang’s waist, and his eyes instantly lit up. He whispered something to the Northeast Brute beside him. The brute’s eyes narrowed, and he waved his hand, bringing the entire small convoy to a halt.

Skinny Monkey jumped out of the car and walked up to Zhou Yuanqiang with a smirk. “Yo, brother! You look like a new face!”

Who was Zhou Yuanqiang? He was the kind of person who could see through a man’s intentions before the man even opened his mouth. Looking at Skinny Monkey’s face, did he really think Zhou wouldn’t know what he was planning? He blinked, putting on an innocent and somewhat naive expression as he looked at Skinny Monkey. “Are you going to rob me?”

Skinny Monkey nearly choked on his breath at such a blunt question. “Brother, what kind of talk is that?” But then he paused for a moment and added, “Well, yeah. Robbery. You’re pretty direct, brother; you guessed exactly what was on my mind.”

Zhou Yuanqiang looked at Skinny Monkey with annoyance and gave him a sidelong glance. “Isn’t it obvious? With your pointed nose, crooked mouth, and those beady rat-eyes darting everywhere? Anyone but an idiot could guess. Besides, do you really need a dozen guns pointed at me just to have a chat? It’s not like I can beat a dozen grown men by myself, can I?”

Skinny Monkey’s nose nearly turned even more crooked from anger. He pointed at his own face and asked, “Kid, which of your damn eyes sees my nose as crooked?”

The Northeast Brute in the car didn’t bother getting out. Seeing Skinny Monkey and Zhou Yuanqiang babbling endlessly, he grew irritated. He roared, “Skinny Monkey! What are you wasting your breath for? Get the stuff so we can get moving!” He didn’t take Zhou Yuanqiang seriously at all. What could a scrawny-looking kid possibly do?

Hearing his leader’s shout, Skinny Monkey stopped being polite. He thrust his hand toward Zhou Yuanqiang. “You’re an interesting kid. I’ll leave you your life. Hand over the crystals so I don’t have to get rough.”

Zhou Yuanqiang laughed, acting as if they were old friends. He patted Skinny Monkey on the shoulder and whispered, “You’re not bad either. You’re a bit amusing. I might consider leaving you your life too. Tell me, do you want to betray them and shoot them in the back, or should I do this myself?”

Skinny Monkey looked at him as if he were looking at a madman. “I say… are you freaking sick in the head?” He flared up. “I was just pitying you, do you understand?”

“Hahaha, interesting. You really are interesting.” Zhou Yuanqiang was still grinning, showing none of the fear usually seen in a robbery victim. He said, “In a moment, after I’ve laid them all out, we can chat some more and see if you were really ‘pitying’ me. Hahaha!”

In the middle of his loud laughter, Zhou Yuanqiang moved. His explosive power made him accelerate like a supercar hitting its limit. He vanished from in front of Skinny Monkey like a ghost.

“Huh? Where’d the kid go?”

Skinny Monkey hadn’t realized what was happening yet. He was simply confused as to how Zhou Yuanqiang had vanished before his eyes. It was only when his slow brain finally caught up that a chill rose from the soles of his feet. “A ghost… did I run into a ghost?”

Behind Skinny Monkey, a series of thuds and crashes rang out.

In the several vehicles, the dozen or so men had been totally relaxed. Why exert energy against a lone Zombie Hunter? To them, he posed no threat. In the past, they had surrounded groups of five or six, taken their crystals, killed the people, and dumped them in the wilderness. After all, a person dying in the apocalypse was no different from killing a zombie. If they went missing, they were just another statistic.

But from the moment Zhou Yuanqiang moved, they were stunned.

First, the machine gunner sitting on top of the lead car was tossed over ten meters into the air. Before he could even come down, two other unlucky souls were sent flying into the sky. The man driving had his face Cave in, a fist-print appearing clearly on his cheek.

The others’ first reaction was that they’d encountered a ghost. Their second reaction was to reach for their guns.

Unfortunately, Zhou Yuanqiang’s speed was far too high. They could only see a dark blur moving; by the time they raised their guns, they had no way to aim.

Soon, one by one, they felt themselves being hurled into the air. After a brief flight, they slammed hard into the abandoned fields lining the highway. The lucky ones only broke limbs; the unlucky ones were clearly not going to make it, their mouths gushing blood that instantly stained the earth red.

The Northeast Brute finally realized he had messed with the wrong person. He grabbed his gun and began wildly firing in a frenzy, roaring, “Show yourself if you’ve got the balls! Come out and fight me one-on-one!”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t say a word. He circled behind him and kicked him right off the top of the car, sending him face-first into the dirt. Humming a little tune, he stepped on the man’s back, instantly crushing his spine and shattering his ribs until the bone fragments shredded his internal organs. The brute spat out a few mouthfuls of blood, his head dropping, his eyes wide in disbelief as he died.

“Aha, done!”

Zhou Yuanqiang clapped his hands as if he had just killed zombies rather than people, truly embodying the sentiment that life was as cheap as grass. In just thirty seconds, half of these dozen or so living souls were dead, and the other half were crippled. Whether they would even have a chance to return to a human settlement was unknown.

When Zhou Yuanqiang returned to Skinny Monkey, he was still patting him on the shoulder. “So, you believe me now?”

The tone and the gesture were exactly as they had been moments ago, but while the two of them were the same, the scene behind them was not. Aside from the driver clutching his face and screaming in agony, the vehicles were empty. Looking toward the side of the road, several men were rolling around, screaming in pain. Even more lay silent, the pools of blood telling their own story.

“This… you… this…”

Skinny Monkey looked like an absolute fool. He pointed at Zhou Yuanqiang, then at the convoy, unable to believe that the difference of half a minute could be so vast. A dozen tough men had been reduced to this in an instant. This display, which superseded his understanding of reality, made him feel like he was seeing a ghost. His whole body shook like a sieve.

“Don’t… don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!”

No matter how arrogant he had been before, when faced with death, he was even more cowardly than an ordinary person.

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled. “I said before, you’re an interesting person. I might consider leaving you your life. Well, now you can do me a small favor. Gather all the valuables for me. If I’m satisfied, your life is saved.”

Skinny Monkey was a man who knew how the world worked. He gritted his teeth and, without hesitation, went into the cars and searched every body—dead or injured—to strip them of every crystal and bit of gold. Once the pile of wealth was placed before Zhou Yuanqiang, he looked at him pitifully.

Zhou Yuanqiang looked at the pile of wealth and bundled it in a cloth. Picking it up, it weighed tens of kilograms. He asked curiously, “Didn’t you guys just set out? How do you have so many crystals and gold?”

Skinny Monkey hesitated before saying, “These… these were all taken on the road.”

Zhou Yuanqiang was speechless. It seemed this crew really did make their living like this. “How many groups did you rob?”

Crystals aren’t very heavy, so tens of kilograms represented a very significant amount. Though there was some gold, it was only a small portion. Zhou Yuanqiang had studied Zombie Hunters before and understood how long it usually took a group to acquire such a massive amount of crystals.

Skinny Monkey was honest. “Six groups. They were all small groups of a few people. Everyone… everyone was… killed.”

Knowing that, Zhou Yuanqiang felt no guilt for his actions. He gave Skinny Monkey a pitying look. “It seems your hands are covered in blood as well. You’ve probably got quite a few lives on your head, don’t you?”

Skinny Monkey was sharp; he immediately sensed the change in Zhou Yuanqiang’s tone and panicked. “I’ve never killed anyone! Truly! I used to scramble for a living in the Capital. I developed a good pair of eyes; after just a few looks, I can tell how much wealth someone is carrying. A scrawny guy like me has a hard time surviving, so I just followed others and used this ability to earn a meal. It really was just for a meal, I’m not lying to you!”

“You were a pickpocket before?”

No wonder the man’s fingers were so long and thin, and his eyes were always shifty. Now that he said it, it made sense.

Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head. The world was a strange place; it didn’t let you survive just because you’d done good deeds, nor did it turn you into a zombie just because you’d done terrible things. In the face of a natural disaster, everyone was equal; the only standard was the strength of your genetic immunity, which determined your life or death.

In the end, Skinny Monkey was left unharmed. Zhou Yuanqiang had originally thought about breaking his hands, but he ultimately gave up on the idea. Shaking his head, he picked up the bag of crystals and gold and continued on his way.

For Zhou Yuanqiang, this was merely a minor interlude in a boring day. However, it reflected the reality of the dog-eat-dog nature of the apocalypse. The law of the jungle was displayed vividly through him, through Skinny Monkey’s gang, and through the many people they had killed. Such occurrences were far too common in this post-apocalyptic world.

In the apocalypse, one couldn’t relax just because the threat of zombies was low. Once an old order collapses, there is a very long road to travel before a new one can be established.

Once he was out of Skinny Monkey’s sight, Zhou Yuanqiang tossed the bundle back into his storage space and sat in the grass by the roadside, thinking quietly. Were the problems he encountered here in the North also present in his Commercial Association? Previously, the Association had been focused on constant warfare, and they had overlooked many things. A brand new sense of order was exactly what the Association was neglecting.

However, the systemic situation in the Association was different from the North. Logically, such things shouldn’t happen there. The centralized management of the population, the reissuing of ID cards, and the census—though not yet complete—were already in preparation. Once those three were implemented, there would be no need to worry about anonymous crimes; everything would leave a trail.

Zhou Yuanqiang had his lunch and dinner in modern Somalia, waiting until nightfall before returning to the apocalypse.

Under the cover of darkness, he could freely use his transportation without being too conspicuous. However, being completely silent was difficult. Even with his expanded storage space, he couldn’t fit even the smallest airship from the Commercial Association, which meant he couldn’t just sneak into settlements unnoticed.

Chapter 381: The Seductive Woman

At nine o’clock in the evening, Zhou Yuanqiang finally arrived at his second destination: Wafangdian, a city under Dalian’s jurisdiction.

Chinese cities often have dense clusters of buildings along the roads leading into them, tens of kilometers, or even seven or eight, or five or six kilometers away from the true urban centers. These areas form districts that, while not cities themselves, are indistinguishable from them. These residential areas are typically established by people who couldn’t afford to buy homes in the city and settled for a secondary option.

These areas often include many factories. Choosing to be tens of kilometers away from the city is mainly because land prices in these areas are cheap, allowing for extensive land acquisition. According to Zhou Yuanqiang’s memory, a factory with an investment of only a million yuan managed to acquire 4 hectares of land just five or six kilometers from a second-tier city, which was truly insane.

The surviving humans lived in the center of Wafangdian. Areas like Zhengjiadian, on National Highway S212 in Wafangdian heading towards Dalian, were once full of residential houses but were now deserted. In the dead of night, there wasn’t a single light. Aside from the roar of his motorcycle, it was terrifyingly silent.

Shortly after Zhengjiadian, he entered the southern suburbs of Wafangdian. Even in this densely populated area, there were no lights. Only on Wuyi Road, around the No. 4 Middle School, were there lights, which appeared as a distant, hazy glow.

On a stretch of road before Zhaojiatun, there was a checkpoint manned by a platoon of soldiers.

The soldiers on duty were curious about the sound of a motorcycle at night, but they didn’t stop the vehicle. As long as it wasn’t a zombie and it was a human, they weren’t interested in interrogating or extorting money. The apocalypse was an era of scarce resources; anything that could be exchanged for crystals was almost certainly grain.

Previously, people in the north were mostly huddled together and could grow some crops. But with the General’s change in strategy, large numbers of people were assigned to the recaptured cities. Due to the rush, the arable land that could be reclaimed in the cities was not extensive and had not yet been scaled up. Grain still needed to be transported from the rear and allocated to the cities.

Take Wafangdian, for example; it was promoted from a county to a prefecture-level city. The surrounding environment was not a plain but mainly hills, so growing crops yielded unsatisfactory harvests.

Zhou Yuanqiang drove past the checkpoint, continuing along the national highway that cut through Wafangdian until he reached the large intersection with Wuyi Road, where he finally saw a cluster of lights. Here, people with no entertainment options flocked to the streets, strolling casually and chatting. Some resourceful individuals found an ownerless shop—one that used to belong to someone else—opened its doors, and started doing business.

However, shop owners were a minority; most were temporary hawkers. Sometimes, they would acquire good items and put them up for sale, acting as temporary vendors.

The electricity here was provided by a diesel generator set, sufficient for the nearly 20,000 people living in the central area. However, it wasn’t used without restraint; every night at eleven o’clock, the power would shut off and wouldn’t be supplied again until seven the next morning.

When Zhou Yuanqiang arrived, he looked into a dark alley, pulled into it, and stored his motorcycle in his storage space. Only then did he swagger out.

In the apocalypse, people would only assume that Zhou Yuanqiang had simply left his motorcycle there; they would never dream of stealing it. It was no exaggeration to say that in the entire city, while there might not be many good cars, there were plenty of private cars, easily a thousand or eight hundred. Motorcycles were everywhere; the real challenge was getting fuel to operate them.

Fuel was the most difficult thing to obtain in the apocalypse. Most northern cities had not yet been recaptured, and inconvenient transportation was one of the main reasons. After acquiring over a hundred fighter jets, the General also reduced fuel supplies, storing large quantities. However, with the Daqing Oil Field, the General would at least not lack oil, though it was true there was no need to supply it in vast quantities.

Walking through the night market, Zhou Yuanqiang, travel-weary and dressed as a Zombie Hunter, still drew many curious glances. Anyone brave enough to travel at night certainly had courage.

Zhou Yuanqiang was merely looking around out of curiosity. His original plan was to find an uninhabited place and return to modern-day Somalia. However, what surprised him was that he discovered a large bar here. Its neon sign flashed, and many people were entering and exiting.

Before the apocalypse, this bar, located in a bustling area, must have been owned by a truly influential person. But now, in the apocalypse, it had been occupied and reopened.

Intrigued, Zhou Yuanqiang thought for a moment and decided to go in. He wanted to see what a bar in the north was like during the apocalypse. Hadn’t people cleared out all the alcohol when these areas were recaptured? For people in the apocalypse, tobacco and alcohol were their greatest pleasures. Regardless of whether one drank in their previous life, everyone would develop a habit of drinking and smoking in the apocalypse.

Drinking was to numb the nerves, while smoking was for when one felt irritable, anxious, or deep in thought.

The first floor was a huge lounge area. Only on the second floor was there an enormous bar, with a dazzling array of fine wines displayed in a luxurious counter. Several waitresses were mixing drinks. The bar itself wasn’t very crowded, perhaps only thirty to forty percent full. The main reason for this was probably the armed, tattooed men standing guard at the staircase leading to the second floor.

To be precise, not just anyone could enter here. Even if you had crystals, you couldn’t get in. The only things recognized here were gold and silver.

Zhou Yuanqiang had a Mountain of Gold and Sea of Silver in his storage space, so how could he lack such things? What he brought out, however, was merely some gold he had “borrowed” from Skinny Monkey and his gang earlier. He successfully gained entry. It seemed that even in the apocalypse, there were still people who looked down on others; without gold, don’t even think about coming in.

Finding a sofa in a corner, he set down his satchel. He noticed the plants nearby had been pruned and restored to their former appearance.

Standing here, Zhou Yuanqiang felt like he had traveled through time. Inside, who would have thought this was the apocalypse? Everything here - the lighting, the atmosphere, the alcohol, everything - was exactly as it used to be.

There were even scantily clad women everywhere, roaming the bar, giggling, and then escorting men upstairs. Among the dozens of women in the bar, their looks could only be described as ordinary, some even quite plain. Yet, in the apocalypse, any woman was a hot commodity, and countless men were impatiently eager. For men in the apocalypse, as long as it was a woman, it was fine; if she could be a bit prettier, more charming, and perfect, even better.

It seemed this wasn’t just a bar; it also engaged in the flesh trade.

In a place like the apocalypse, this kind of business could be found everywhere. Even in the Commercial Association, Zhou Yuanqiang could only turn a blind eye. Such issues couldn’t be changed simply because he wanted to; people’s physiological needs required release. And women in the apocalypse were not easy to find in abundance. Over seven and a half years, those who hadn’t become zombies had also drastically decreased for various reasons.

With more men than women, do you expect everyone to marry and have children? Hence, the profession of being ridden by thousands and tasted by tens of thousands emerged, and it was an unstoppable industry.

Zhou Yuanqiang neither disliked nor liked these things. He knew that even ministerial-level officials in the Commercial Association would occasionally frequent such places. This was likely a historical legacy, a chaotic and fallen era that provided fertile ground for this industry. Perhaps even if humanity lived for not just a hundred years, but ten thousand, or a hundred million years… this situation wouldn’t change.

Men, after all, always find ways to enjoy themselves. In modern times, many men keep ten or eight mistresses, and what can the law do about it?

His thoughts had drifted far. Zhou Yuanqiang pulled his mind back, walked to the counter, and shook his head as he looked at the rows of famous wines. This drew laughter from a few big, burly men nearby: “Kid, if you don’t have money, get out. Don’t come to the Mountain of Gold and Sea of Silver; this isn’t your place.”

Zhou Yuanqiang was still vigorous, but he had long passed the impulsive stage. He merely smiled faintly, ordered a beer, and said nothing. He quietly returned to his sofa where his satchel lay and drank the clearly newly brewed beer. The craftsmanship wasn’t as good as modern beer, but being able to drink beer in the apocalypse was still pretty good.

The burly men swore a few more times about his lack of balls, then continued telling their jokes. Several times, they tried to provoke the women at the counter but failed, each time dissolving into awkward laughter.

After he finished his beer, a commotion erupted in the bar. Everyone in the main hall seemed injected with adrenaline, craning their necks towards the staircase leading from upstairs. Some even drooled, and whispers reached Zhou Yuanqiang’s ears: “Isn’t paying so much just to see her? She’s finally out. I thought I wasted my money today.”

“Yeah, yeah, this alcohol is truly f*cking undrinkable. One tael of gold for a bottle of red wine. But being able to see her is worth it. I just wonder if there’s a chance… Damn it, I can’t hold myself back. Every time I think of her long, fair legs that dazzle the eyes, wrapped in stockings, I get so excited I almost fire off.”

“F*ck, you must have seen that in a dream. When have you ever seen her legs?”

Such words were endless, making Zhou Yuanqiang curious. What kind of woman could make these people act like a pack of beasts? Thinking of the previous man who almost shot his load just by thinking, this woman must be an absolute belle of the era, otherwise, how could she have such an effect?

Zhou Yuanqiang was indeed right. The woman who entered shortly after possessed a seductive charm capable of captivating all beings. Yes, seductive, because her every movement, every glance, would leave people spellbound, as if their souls had been hooked away. And her extremely revealing purple backless jumpsuit paired with matching purple stockings made Zhou Yuanqiang admit that even he felt a little unable to restrain himself.

For someone with such strong self-control as Zhou Yuanqiang, his lower body reacted instantly. One could imagine what the other people present were like.

Indeed, drool was on the floor everywhere. Each person looked like they hadn’t seen a woman in ten lifetimes, transforming into hungry wolves in that instant. Some, overcome with excitement, had already stood up, trembling as if they wanted to rush forward. There were many villains in the bar; their eyes were bloodshot, their fists tightly clenched, wishing they could tear off all the woman’s clothes on the spot, brutally rub and ravage her… oh no, they would cherish every inch of her skin.

But every man who had transformed into a wolf merely displayed a frantic desire, yet no one dared to rush forward—a strange phenomenon.

The alluring woman appeared to be around thirty years old, the prime of a woman’s maturity, adding an endless mature aura that made her even more captivating. She seemed accustomed to all this, offering a smile that enchanted everyone. Then, with a voice that sounded equally seductive, she said, “Golden House is delighted that everyone could join us. Qingli raises a toast to all of you.”

A subordinate nearby handed her a glass of red wine. She raised it, and immediately, the perverts below howled like wolves, excitedly chugging their drinks.

The seductive woman only showed her face for a moment before going upstairs again. But just showing her face had an extremely good effect. Many bottles of the extremely expensive wine were sold, and even the women who worked there were instantly taken away by men. Some who had no money and just wanted to catch a glimpse, looking at their empty glasses, empty pockets, and the vanishing seductive figure, naturally shook their heads and left.

Moments later, only a pitiful few remained in the entire Golden House.

Zhou Yuanqiang sighed, “What powerful personal charisma, what strong business acumen!” He thought that with such tactics, all the gold in Wafangdian would likely end up in this woman’s hands. Zhou Yuanqiang found it somewhat strange; with this woman’s beauty, a femme fatale, and her blood-boiling seductiveness, why did no one dare to forcefully lay hands on her?

Zhou Yuanqiang was also a very normal man. His abnormal physique, of course, brought problems in the realm of sexual bliss. Jiao’er and Ren Xinyun could no longer satisfy him.

Of course, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t consider himself a philanderer. Even if he wasn’t satisfied, he hadn’t sought out other women. He naturally knew that with his status, wanting any number of women wouldn’t be an issue. He understood Shui Mulian’s feelings for him, and as for Yan Yuhe, sometimes he wondered if four women weren’t enough to satisfy a man.

But why are men called men? Because men often think with their lower bodies.

To be precise, Zhou Yuanqiang’s heart stirred. He put down his wine glass, picked up his satchel, and headed to the third floor. Facing a woman who could stir his desires, Zhou Yuanqiang had no reason to let her go. A man’s strong possessiveness was at play. Whether others dared was their business; he had the ability to pluck this flower, and that was enough.

Finding the woman named Qingli was actually very simple: just go up, and the most heavily guarded place would be where she was.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s guess was correct; Qingli lived on the top floor. More than a dozen female bodyguards guarded the stairwell. Only after confirming this, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t barge in. Instead, he left the Golden House, found an uninhabited spot, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and then, under the cover of night, appeared on a building not far from the Golden House. Looking at the rooftop over ten meters away, he took a deep breath, charged forward, leaped into the air, and landed on the rooftop.

“Am I considered a ‘flower-picking bandit’?”

Zhou Yuanqiang hooked onto the edge of the rooftop, slid down a few times, and had already appeared on the top floor.

With his powerful sensing ability, Zhou Yuanqiang still found Qingli’s room. He merely tapped lightly on the door, and her voice came from inside, “Come in!” It seemed she had already assumed the person knocking was one of her subordinates.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t stand on ceremony, pushing the door open and walking in.

It was a very exquisite suite. Qingli sat on the windowsill, still in her dress, gazing out at the night sky lost in thought. Zhou Yuanqiang unceremoniously sat on a sofa not far from her, admiring the seductive woman with interest. It had to be said that even when she was still, she radiated endless attraction; she was a natural enchantress.

As if sensing something, the lost-in-thought Qingli turned her head. When she saw the stranger in the room, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes, but her facial expression didn’t change at all. She said lightly, “Sir, arriving uninvited is not a Chinese virtue.”

Zhou Yuanqiang shrugged and smiled, saying, “Flowers never need an invitation; bees will always come to pick them on their own.”

Qingli’s eyes flickered. She got down from the window and naturally walked to the sofa next to Zhou Yuanqiang and sat down, looking at him with equal interest, “You’re very unfamiliar, but I wonder where you get your courage? I naturally know my charm, but aren’t you curious why no one dares to make a move on me?”

Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head and said, “I don’t want to know. My purpose in coming is simply to possess some things. As you know, a man’s possessiveness is the strongest.”

“Hehe…”

Qingli laughed, her voice captivating. Her eyes lightly swept over Zhou Yuanqiang’s face, and she said, “Your makeup is very clever, but I think, before trying to possess a woman, it’s best to show your true face. You wouldn’t expect someone to become your private property without even having seen your face, would you?”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t feel surprised. Of course, he knew this woman was not simple, nor did he expect his makeup to go unnoticed. Women, by nature, are observant, and those who frequently wear makeup are skilled at it.

However…

(Typed through a headache. Please bear with any errors. Can’t hold on. Begging for Monthly Votes, I’m out! It hurts!)

.

.

Chapter 382: Qingli

Women are always men’s playthings. This statement hangs somewhere between truth and falsehood; no one can say for certain whether it is right or wrong.

However, one thing is certain: in the apocalypse, the status of women is extremely low. This was especially true during the first two or three years after the outbreak, a period that could be described as a dark age for women. Far too many evils were built upon the sacrifices of women. They were indeed treated as the playthings of men, living lives that were worse than death.

But are women truly that weak?

Setting aside the apocalypse for a moment, women in the modern era include many powerful figures. Whether as successful officials, researchers, or entrepreneurs, women can be seen everywhere. In society, they have gained sufficient recognition. Yet, in the apocalypse—a world where order has collapsed and survival depends on violence—frail women are indeed at a disadvantage. In many situations, how could they possibly be a match for men?

One must remember that in the apocalypse, not everyone has a gun. Most things are still settled with bare fists or cold weapons.

It was only when the panic of the apocalypse gradually subsided and people could face zombies with composure that the status of women slowly began to rise. But even this rise was predicated on their dependence on men; they remained merely tools for men to vent their frustrations. Even within the Commercial Association under Zhou Yuanqiang’s own control, despite the current situation, the status of women had only recovered to the point of being protected by the Commercial Association’s Code of Law. They had not yet reached the point where they could stand on their own.

Precisely because of this, Zhou Yuanqiang understood that a woman as unnervingly beautiful as the one before him could not have survived in the apocalypse until now without something to rely on. Her maddeningly beautiful face would lead to a fatal temptation for men. A femme fatale of such ravishing beauty would inevitably drive men to fight tooth and nail to possess her… or she would be owned by the most powerful of men.

One only had to look at the expressions of the men in the pool—their base, naked desire held back by a palpable fear that kept them from rushing forward—to know that this woman was a rose with thorns. She was meant to be admired, not touched.

Qingli, standing before him, showed not a hint of the panic one would expect from someone whose home had been intruded upon. Everything was perfectly natural, as if Zhou Yuanqiang were not a strange visitor but an old friend of many years. Even her tone of voice betrayed no sense of unfamiliarity. This indicated that she was undaunted, possessing some form of security that meant she didn’t fear this uninvited guest in the slightest.

Qingli picked up a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table, lit one for herself, and took a shallow drag. As she exhaled the smoke, it created a powerful, suggestive allure.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s brow twitched. As the faint smell of smoke reached his nose, he felt as if his head had been struck by a heavy hammer. He believed that if it had been an ordinary person—even a Crystal Warrior with a twentyfold reinforced state—they would not have been able to withstand this hit and would have certainly collapsed instantly.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang’s physical constitution and reinforcement intensity had reached a staggering 69 times. More importantly, his healing ability allowed him to resist the toxins produced by the smoke, neutralizing the poison the moment it entered his nose and keeping his organs functioning normally.

“Treating a friend like this doesn’t seem like much in the way of hospitality!”

To all outward appearances, Zhou Yuanqiang was completely unaffected, as if what he had inhaled was the scent of actual tobacco rather than a smoke laced with a terrifying toxin.

A trace of surprise appeared on Qingli’s previously calm face. She couldn’t quite understand how such a potent toxin had absolutely no effect on the man before her. As her trump card, this toxin was the most direct and effective among her many means of protection. Anyone who inhaled even a tiny bit would have their nerves compromised and fall into a coma within half a second.

The toxin wasn’t meant for killing; it would be processed out of the body by normal blood circulation after half an hour.

“Then tell me, is intruding into a woman’s home without the owner’s permission the way a visitor should behave?” Qingli naturally extinguished the cigarette in her hand. She leaned back on the sofa, brushing back her hair.

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “Do you think I would have been able to see you if I followed normal visiting procedures?”

Qingli was blunt, saying, “Of course not. If you want to see me, the only place is the bar at ten every night.”

Zhou Yuanqiang shrugged. “Exactly. To see you, I had no choice but to resort to this. Men, after all, will use any means necessary to achieve their goals.”

“Giggle! Since you want me, what are you waiting for?”

Qingli went as far as to slightly shift her legs, clad in purple stockings, partially revealing a hint of purple through the fabric. Indeed, it was a pair of matching purple underwear, incredibly provocative, sparking an irrepressible impulse. However, Zhou Yuanqiang caught a fleeting flash of murderous intent in her eyes and knew this was nothing more than a tender trap.

But who was Zhou Yuanqiang? He smiled faintly. “Since the hostess is so inviting, how could I possibly decline?”

He walked over and reached out directly to take her hand. However, at some point, Qingli had drawn a silver Desert Eagle. Its cold muzzle was aimed straight at Zhou Yuanqiang. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Desert Eagle spat out a tongue of lethal flame, and a bullet carrying the aura of death lunged forward.

In that instant, Zhou Yuanqiang’s shadow seemed to dim slightly, too fast for the naked eye to track, and then returned to normal. It was a split-second occurrence. But for Zhou Yuanqiang, it was an unprecedented attempt. From the moment the bullet left the barrel, he performed a teleportation, briefly manifesting his shadow in the modern world before forcibly cutting back to the apocalypse. The process was nearly as fast as the speed of the bullet, allowing him to perfectly evade the shot aimed at him.

In Qingli’s eyes, after firing that shot, the man’s midsection should have been blown to pieces. She actually felt a bit of pity for her favorite purple dress; once stained with blood, she certainly wouldn’t wear it again, as it would make her feel disgusted.

However, things did not play out according to her script. The reaching hand didn’t pause for a second as it seized her own, and the Desert Eagle ended up in the other man’s hand. There was no spray of blood; instead, her entire body was pulled into his embrace, and she felt the powerful masculine scent emanating from him.

This series of changes was completed in a mere two seconds.

By the time Qingli realized what was happening, it was too late. Trapped in his arms, no matter how she struggled, it was useless. The terrifying strength she had always been proud of was fragile before this man. And then… then her lips were covered by his. A powerful tongue forced its way past her teeth in an instant, tangling with her own.

Driven by immense terror and instinct, Qingli tried to bite down.

To her disappointment, it was as if he knew she would try such a move; her teeth met only air as he had already retracted his tongue. What made her whole body tremble was that a powerful hand had reached into the front of her dress, roaming and kneading wantonly, forcing her proudest features into various shapes.

To her shame and fury, the other hand that had been holding her easily slipped inside her purple underwear without any resistance during her panic, exploring the hidden peach garden. Between the friction-induced stimulation and her indignant emotions, what Qingli found most unbearable was that she was actually experiencing a very strange sensation.

With a loud bang, the bodyguards who heard the gunshot rushed in, bursting through the door in just over ten seconds—their speed was exceptionally fast.

However, in those few short seconds, Qingli, their employer, had already been compromised. What was displayed before the subordinates was a shameful scene of intimacy. The woman they regarded as a goddess was being toyed with at will in a man’s arms like a weak girl.

Their guns were quickly aimed at the man holding Qingli.

Zhou Yuanqiang was currently consumed by desire. He blew a soft breath into Qingli’s ear and, suppressing his urges, said, “I’ll take you to feel the wind!” With that, he held Qingli and leaped, crashing through the window. Amidst a chorus of screams, he vanished from the sight of the female bodyguards.

Qingli, who had once believed herself to be incredibly powerful, now realized that there was always a higher heaven and a taller mountain. In front of this man, she was like an infant, left completely to his mercy. Qingli, who thought she could control her own destiny, now found that destiny often snatches away everything you think you possess the moment you think you have mastered it.

Feel the wind?

Qingli certainly felt the wind. All she could hear in her ears was its howling roar. The night, which had been dotted with lights, vanished in an instant as they plunged into uninhabited darkness. Only the buildings that seemed to be receding frantically around them indicated that she was being carried at high speed, even leaping across the tops of skyscrapers.

Wafangdian was merely a prefecture-level city; in a moment, they had left the urban area and entered a stretch of wild grass. Two or three minutes later, they had reached the summit of a mountain that overlooked all of Wafangdian. Especially under the whistling cold wind, Qingli actually felt a hint of chill.

“What exactly do you want to do?”

Qingli felt like she was going insane. This series of events had given her no time to think. By the time she cleared her head from the previous humiliation, she found herself at the top of a mountain, a place where she was truly at the other’s mercy. She could almost foresee that she would be stripped bare and subjected to his every whim.

She was indeed glamorous and had been with men before, but she was no wanton slut who let any man touch her.

Many times, what distressed Qingli the most was her innate beauty. “Is it my fault for being born this beautiful?” she would often ask herself. From the moment she reached adulthood, she had become a sacrificial lamb of politics, a plaything for men at the pinnacle of power.

That life had finally ended when the apocalypse arrived, but something even more terrifying… had only just begun.

She never expected that after years of hard work, just when she thought she could control her destiny, she would find herself falling into the hands of a complete stranger once again. Moreover, the power this man displayed terrified her; her own hidden, formidable strength seemed like nothing to him. What she couldn’t understand even more was that she had clearly hit him with her shot earlier, so why was there no reaction?

Zhou Yuanqiang was burning with lust and didn’t answer Qingli’s question at all. Instead, he claimed her body with a wild intensity. His immense strength gave him absolute dominance, and her resistance only served to make him more excited. His mind was clear, and he knew what he was doing… after a long period of restraint, he needed a total release. Thus, even knowing it wasn’t right, he did it anyway.

Qingli was like a toy in Zhou Yuanqiang’s hands, turned over and over on this wild mountain peak in the dark of night, subject to a savage assault. From rejection to being triggered into full-body pleasure, until she eventually cooperated and was conquered, losing herself in an ocean of desire. Like a mountain flood erupting, Qingli eventually took the initiative, releasing her own desires in kind.

Heavy panting and moans echoed across the mountain top.

It was only two hours later that everything finally went still. The two naked people held each other, and then silently separated, gathering their scattered clothes. But because of Zhou Yuanqiang’s earlier urgency, both of their outfits had long since been reduced to shreds. Thus, the two of them sat there staring at each other, both still naked.

“Sigh!” Zhou Yuanqiang sighed. He reached behind his back, and a set of women’s clothes appeared in his hand. He handed them to Qingli and said, “Put these on.”

Qingli looked at the man strangely. Thinking of what had just happened, a flush of crimson appeared on her face, turning even redder. After taking the clothes, she very openly began to dress in front of him without trying to hide. She understood that once some things were done, they couldn’t be changed. She only hoped the man would let her go and treat this as just a game.

After Zhou Yuanqiang finished admiring the sight of Qingli dressing, he took out a set of casual wear for himself. After putting it on, he flicked his wrist and a pack of cigarettes appeared. He sat down in the grass, lit one, patted a spot next to him, and silently watched Wafangdian below, where only a small portion of lights remained.

Qingli hesitated a moment before sitting down beside Zhou Yuanqiang, also remaining silent.

Having just exerted himself for two hours, Zhou Yuanqiang felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction. He turned his head slightly and said, “Don’t you want to ask me why I did this?”

“I want to ask, but will you tell me?” Qingli smiled, her entire being becoming incredibly charming. Even the just-satisfied Zhou Yuanqiang felt a surge of desire rising again. It could be said that she was a woman whose every movement was impossible to refuse. It was hard to imagine how heaven could have created such a masterpiece.

Could he really say he was a pervert who couldn’t help but “execute” her?

Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head and simply didn’t explain. He swept a glance over Qingli and said, “I couldn’t tell, but you’re quite strong, and you strike ruthlessly enough.”

Qingli sneered. “Strong? In front of you, I’m still like an infant. I am ruthless, but I still couldn’t kill you.”

Sensing the cold tone of the conversation, Zhou Yuanqiang said, “Your name is quite beautiful. Tell me your story.”

Qingli had the urge to hit him. Did his underlying tone imply he was trying to comfort her? The thought made her want to laugh. What kind of situation was this? He forcibly took her, yet now he wanted to soothe her as if nothing had happened. Or, did he intend to keep possessing her like this?

“Why should I tell you?” Qingli suddenly stood up and said coldly, “Can I leave now?”

Zhou Yuanqiang laughed and said calmly, “As you’ve seen, I am a very possessive man. Once I have had a woman, no other man can touch her. Otherwise… their end will be very, very miserable. Just now, you were branded as mine, so how could you possibly leave?”

The old Zhou Yuanqiang would never have been able to say such things. But as one’s power reaches the peak, people inevitably change. In fact, Zhou Yuanqiang felt he was already being quite restrained. As someone who held the life and death of tens of millions in his hands, having only this small amount of desire was modest. If it were someone else, it wouldn’t be impossible for them to build a harem or do something even more absurd.

At this stage, did Qingli even have a choice? She felt as if everything that happened tonight was a dream, sudden and without warning. This man hadn’t given her even a moment to think before making her lose herself. Every time she thought about how easily she had lost herself, she felt vexed. How could this happen?

She stared at Zhou Yuanqiang, looking at this man who was confident to the extreme. She smiled and said, “My identity represents betrayal in the north. Are you sure you aren’t afraid?”

Zhou Yuanqiang remained smiling. “Betrayal? I don’t care about the past, only the present. Since you are already my woman, you should know that I’m a man who doesn’t worry much about consequences. However, regarding your so-called betrayal, I wonder how you managed to stay here safely. I suspect those who called you a traitor would have found it impossible to let you remain free until now.”

Qingli looked up at the rare starry sky and suddenly seemed to let go of everything. She let out a heavy sigh and said, “I’m very tired. You should understand how much trouble a woman—especially a woman like me—encounters in the apocalypse. So many men wish they could swallow me whole or tear me to pieces, just like you did just now. I want to ask: is there a place where I can truly rest?”

Zhou Yuanqiang flicked his finger. “Of course. From the moment you became my woman, you can rest easy. Don’t worry about other men; I will settle everything for you.”

Chapter 383: Do You Think This Is Your Own House?

Things were just that bizarre. What seemed impossible had somehow fallen into place as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The next day, when Zhou Yuanqiang departed, he was no longer alone. He was accompanied by someone wrapped up so tightly that only their eyes were visible.

“Are you sure? Do you really want to follow me, no matter where I go?”

Amidst the roar of the motorcycle engine, Zhou Yuanqiang sat at the handlebars, with Qingli standing beside him. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t believe in some magical “aura of kingship,” yet strangely enough, Qingli had abandoned everything to follow him. This was entirely unexpected for Zhou Yuanqiang and felt rather peculiar.

Qingli smiled faintly and said, “I am not a loose woman. Since you used such methods to possess me, you naturally have to take responsibility. You didn’t think you could just walk away, did you?”

“…”

Zhou Yuanqiang was speechless. He patted the back of the motorcycle seat and said, “Do you think I don’t understand what you’re up to? If you’re truly not afraid, then get on.”

Initially, Zhou Yuanqiang had intended for her to stay here, intending to pick her up after he finished his business. But now that Qingli insisted on coming along, his only reason for refusing was that bringing someone to his destination was indeed inconvenient. He wasn’t worried about her spying on him; even if she discovered his secrets, what could she actually do?

Qingli actually climbed onto the back seat and immediately wrapped her arms around Zhou Yuanqiang’s waist.

Zhou Yuanqiang started the motorcycle, thought for a moment, and asked, “Do you have any close associates?” Seeing her confused expression, he explained, “I mean, do you have any loyal subordinates? You can leave them here, and when we return, we can take them with us when we leave.”

Qingli could not have guessed Zhou Yuanqiang’s true identity, just as he could not guess hers.

Qingli did indeed have subordinates she couldn’t leave behind; after all these years, they were like sisters. She hesitated for a moment before taking out a small communicator and issuing a series of orders. Once she was finished, she said to Zhou Yuanqiang, “Have you heard of the Nature Sect? I am its founder. It is precisely because of the protection and unity of a large group of sisters that we have been able to survive in this world without being bullied by men.”

Zhou Yuanqiang accelerated the motorcycle, and they sped off.

The journey was much faster with Qingli than with Zhou Yuanqiang trying to navigate using a vague map. Relying on his superhuman reflexes, he pushed the motorcycle nearly to its limit. Within just three days—thanks to the lack of internal defenses in the region—Zhou Yuanqiang quickly completed his tasks and gathered first-hand intelligence on the entire North.

During those three days, Zhou Yuanqiang lived quite comfortably. Traveling by day, exploring by night, and finding time to “train” Qingli as he pleased.

To be honest, Qingli was a definitive “big sister” type. At thirty-two, she was a full five years older than Zhou Yuanqiang. In his words, he had no interest in little girls, but a stunningly glamorous mature woman like her was a true delight. That mature tenderness was something a shy young girl couldn’t compare to. Even Jiao’er and Ren Xinyun fell short in this regard.

More importantly, Qingli had a powerful constitution. Though she looked delicate, her strength was startling; in Zhou Yuanqiang’s estimation, it was comparable to a Level 7 Crystal Warrior. Because of this, she could handle his vigor in a way Ren Xinyun and the others couldn’t, allowing him to reach his peak.

Upon completing his Ring Task, Zhou Yuanqiang broke through to Level 25. His abilities reached 75 times human peak, and his body underwent a qualitative transformation.

Zhou Yuanqiang could feel this change; the density of his cells was shifting. Specifically, the eighth skill he acquired at Level 24 filled him with wild joy.

Vajra: Briefly increases physical defense by 500% for 30 seconds. Each level increases the duration by 5 seconds.

Given his current physical defense, while he couldn’t completely deflect bullets, he could stop them within his muscle layers. If he activated the Vajra skill, increasing his defense by 500%—five times—he feared even light sniper rounds wouldn’t be able to damage him.

Such a heaven-defying skill naturally couldn’t be permanent. Thirty seconds seemed short to Zhou Yuanqiang, but it was more than enough for critical moments. Furthermore, with his abilities, there was so much he could do in thirty seconds. Not to mention, he could still level up. At Level 10, it would last 50 seconds, making for a total of 80 seconds of invincibility.

To Zhou Yuanqiang, this was the perfect skill for grandstanding.

If he were fighting zombies, his Armor Art was enough to sweep through everything. But he couldn’t exactly manifest a full suit of armor in front of everyone—that would be too damn exaggerated. The Vajra skill was different; he could use it swaggeringly in broad daylight without worrying about people noticing anything magical.

“Damn, I really hit the jackpot this time!”

Zhou Yuanqiang imagined showing off a magnificent display of invulnerability at a critical moment—it would surely leave everyone thunderstruck. If he had possessed this skill earlier, he wouldn’t have needed to use teleportation to dodge Qingli’s shot. For the past few days, Qingli had been incessantly asking how that shot had missed.

Of course, whenever Qingli asked, Zhou Yuanqiang would unhesitatingly give her a different kind of “shot” to make her understand that a man’s secrets aren’t for women to pry into casually.

With the task complete, Zhou Yuanqiang’s original plan was to take Qingli and leave the North. But since he was here, why not leave a little memento? Even Sun Wukong carved “I was here” on Buddha’s finger; leaving silently just wasn’t his style.

After an intense session of passion, Zhou Yuanqiang held Qingli and asked casually, “I heard the General has his eye on you too. Heh… tell me, what does he value most?”

Qingli, left feeling like she was falling apart by Zhou Yuanqiang’s antics, answered lazily, “People call him the Scholar General; he wouldn’t treat me the way you do. If I hadn’t felt nothing for him, maybe I would have been his woman long ago. But as for what he values most, it seems to be Dr. Bai’s experimental base.”

Zhou Yuanqiang had heard of this. Based on intelligence from his agents, the General had built his power on this experimental base; it was where the exciters were researched. Agents had confirmed that, inspired by the Commercial Association, they were pivoting toward using crystals in machinery and had made breakthroughs. It was the General’s most valued asset for the future and remained the most strictly guarded forbidden zone in the North.

Realizing he wasn’t far from this base, Zhou Yuanqiang quickly dressed, gave Qingli’s fair backside a firm pat, and said, “Wait here for me to come back.”

The nights in the North were indeed cold, especially near Changchun.

After using a code to contact an agent stationed there, the man handed over a set of documents and departed hurriedly.

Looking at the documents, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled. He studied them carefully before placing them into his storage space. Discerning his direction in the dark, he hurried out of Changchun, sprinting toward the vast, dark mountain peaks. He was essentially flying over the mountains. The General’s experimental base was quite a distance from the city.

In theory, as long as his stamina held out, Zhou Yuanqiang could maintain a speed of hundreds of kilometers per hour. However, he had never tested how long he could sustain that, nor was he bored enough to try. Doing something so taxing for no gain wasn’t his style.

Covering the seventy to eighty kilometers, even over mountainous terrain, didn’t take him much time.

As the site of the greatest contributions to the General’s power, the base’s security surpassed ordinary imagination. Before the apocalypse, it had been a military research facility, housing experimental equipment far beyond civilian reach.

As one of the few survivors from the original facility, Dr. Bai knew the base like the back of his hand. He had been able to discover the effects of crystals on humans precisely because this was a biochemical research center. This also explained why his research focus was on human enhancement rather than machinery.

The more one studied crystals, the more terrifying they became, simply because their range of application was so vast.

Originally, Dr. Bai believed that energy capable of stimulating human genes could only be used in genetics. However, the achievements of the Southern Yuanqiang Commercial Association reminded him that crystals weren’t just for human genes; they held an irreplaceable position in machinery and energy production as well.

Consequently, not only did Dr. Bai become obsessed, but the General also became fanatical, leading to a frantic plunder for crystals.

However, while Dr. Bai was an authority in human genetics, his knowledge of mechanics and energy was only superficial. Making a breakthrough wasn’t easy. Even now, he couldn’t solve the technology for large-scale extraction and compression of crystal energy, let alone induce fission. It was completely different from nuclear fission, requiring an entirely new set of formulas.

Unquestionably, their superior equipment allowed them to leave the Southern Commercial Association in the dust initially. But as the Association occupied more territory, their equipment became more selective. Relying on a massive number of researchers, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association had eventually pulled far ahead of the General’s base.

Dr. Bai’s greatest headache now was a lack of manpower. Otherwise, he was certain he could finalize the crystal fission formulas and create strategic weapons of horrific proportions. When the time came, these types of fission weapons—which lacked radiation—would surely be used extensively in war.

Though the death toll would be dozens of times that of conventional warfare, such things weren’t for Dr. Bai to consider. His only concern was his research. From one perspective, he was a pure researcher who spent almost all his energy on his studies.

With Zhou Yuanqiang’s abilities, infiltrating this place was neither purely difficult nor entirely simple.

Most importantly, he held a detailed layout of the base, ensuring he wouldn’t wander aimlessly. At this moment, the power of secret agents was fully demonstrated; they didn’t need to fight, but the intelligence they provided was enough to deal a fatal blow.

In reality, such bases had very thorough outer defenses, but the interior usually relied on electronic monitoring and biometric identification systems.

Destroying this place would be incredibly easy for Zhou Yuanqiang. But considering the over one hundred researchers working here—each an irreplaceable asset—could he really bring himself to destroy them too? Thus, Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t just thinking of immediate gratification; he was thinking about the future.

The core labs were underground, which presented a slight problem.

“Damn it, if I can’t be sneaky, can’t I just use force?” Zhou Yuanqiang was getting annoyed because he realized it was nearly impossible to achieve his goal without alerting them. While the equipment here was valuable, the Commercial Association wasn’t short on it; in fact, their facilities were more complete. His goal was simply to give the General some “fun,” not necessarily to loot the place.

Having reached a decision, Zhou Yuanqiang clenched his fist. A silver light flashed over his body as his armor instantly manifested. A giant sword appeared in his hand out of thin air.

And so, for everyone in the experimental base, a disastrous scene unfolded. Zhou Yuanqiang had already reached the main building. When he charged forward like a madman or a rampaging rhino, the six soldiers guarding the entrance didn’t even have time to issue a warning before they opened fire.

In an instant, gunfire erupted in the quiet night, echoing throughout the entire base.

Zhou Yuanqiang completely ignored the bullets, which were like annoying flies. He dashed to the elevator like the wind and used his giant sword to cleave open the doors. Without waiting for the car, he grabbed the cables and slid down. Upon reaching the first basement level, he pried open the doors and charged out fiercely.

The researchers in the hallway saw a mechanical warrior, similar to a Crystal Warrior, burst in. That terrifying giant sword flashed with endless cold light. Then, like a madman, the intruder lunged into the laboratories, using his sword to lay waste to everything.

Valuable labs were smashed to smithereens. The stunned researchers felt as if their hearts were bleeding.

As the alarms shrieked, a large number of soldiers rushed in. Seeing the heavily damaged labs, their eyes burned with fury; they knew how important this place was to the General. They unleashed a metal storm of lead, trying to bury the shouting intruder.

But Zhou Yuanqiang’s Armor Art simply ignored their firepower. After smashing another lab, he faced the metal storm, extended his empty left hand, gave a thumbs-up, then turned it down and said calmly, “You guys are pathetic. Go home and drink your milk!”

Having said his piece, he ignored their contorted faces, dragged his giant sword, pushed aside the dazed researchers, and continued his path of destruction.

The soldiers, seeing that their guns were useless, charged forward with suicidal bravery, trying to tackle Zhou Yuanqiang. Unfortunately, the gap in power was too vast; they were tossed aside like balls, kissing the walls intimately before “blissfully” passing out.

The poor Dr. Bai was in his main laboratory when the alarm went off. Before he could grasp what was happening, a towering mechanical warrior-like figure burst in and began smashing the various devices as if the lab were a playground.

Seeing the equipment he regarded as his very life treated like garbage and destroyed, the vast laboratory was soon reduced to a sea of glass shards and scattered parts. The researchers inside were knocked about, groaning as they clutched their injuries.

Dr. Bai felt as if the sky had collapsed. At his advanced age, his vision went black, and he fainted.

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t an idiot. His appearance was a total surprise attack. If he stayed too long and the enemy gathered their wits or brought in heavy weapons, he would still face trouble. So, after wrecking the main laboratory and concluding the base was effectively crippled, he didn’t linger. He charged his way back up to the surface.

The officer in charge of the base was nearly fuming with rage, his eyes spitting fire. “Do you think this is your own house? Coming and going as you please?”

But reality was exactly like that. With his Armor Art, Zhou Yuanqiang was unstoppable. Especially with his Gravity Manipulation active; once bullets got close, they were diverted by gravity, losing their aim and force, becoming completely harmless. Under such circumstances, how could they possibly hope to detain him?

The entire experimental base was thrown into a complete uproar by Zhou Yuanqiang that night, yet they could only watch helplessly as this terrifying Crystal Warrior vanished like the wind. Against armor that provided absolute defense against firearms, paired with immense strength, ordinary people stood no chance. More importantly, the intruder was too fast; from the start of the attack to his departure, barely five minutes had passed.

Five minutes was barely enough time for the base’s heavy weapons unit to mobilize. How were they supposed to stop him?

When the General, who had already retired for the night, received word that his experimental base had been nearly destroyed by a powerful and mysterious Crystal Warrior, he almost wondered if he were dreaming. When the report was confirmed, his vision blurred with rage, and he slammed his communicator against the wall, shattering it into pieces.

Chapter 384: Doubling Back

“Pursue him! Hunt him down! You must capture him!”

The General’s roar echoed throughout the entire bedroom. The two young girls who had been jolted awake trembled beneath their quilts. The General held the title of the “Refined General,” but that did not mean he was unwilling to kill. In his towering rage, anyone who crossed him was certain to face a grim end. In the North, the General was the law; there was no questioning that.

Amidst the General’s roaring, the messengers scurried off in a panic to relay orders to the General of the Division responsible for Changchun. Simultaneously, orders were dispatched for all soldiers at the experimental base to mobilize.

The Division General in Changchun received the order and loudly guaranteed that he would complete the task. Although he didn’t fully understand the situation, in his eyes, a powerful Crystal Warrior was like a man who was all show in bed—he might seem incredibly strong, but after only a few minutes, he’d go soft and enter a period of weakness. When that happened, a Crystal Warrior would be as helpless as an infant. Wouldn’t they be like a lamb to the slaughter?

The soldiers at the experimental base, however, had personally witnessed the ferocity of this particular Crystal Warrior.

The reason they categorized the intruder as a Crystal Warrior was twofold: first, the armor was the signature equipment of a Crystal Warrior; second, the use of cold weapons was a defining trait. Furthermore, they had no other way to classify Zhou Yuanqiang. They simply assumed he was a variant Crystal Warrior, or perhaps his armor was different because he could withstand higher-level crystals.

As the pioneers of this era-defining technology in the North, they naturally understood the pros and cons of Crystal Warriors better than anyone.

After Zhou Yuanqiang escaped, several helicopters from the experimental base quickly took to the sky, pursuing the direction he had fled. Dozens of troop carriers swarmed with soldiers, rumbling out of the base. Even at the Changchun airport, over a dozen J-10s were airborne within minutes, flying toward the designated coordinates.

To prevent this from being a coordinated breakthrough or a larger ambush, the troops stationed along the border were also ordered to closely monitor every movement of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

In the General’s view, this attack was definitely not as simple as it appeared. He just hadn’t figured out its true meaning yet. Specifically, why was the experimental base the target? Did the enemy want to stop his energy research?

Naturally, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association from the South was the primary suspect, though the General did not rule out trouble caused by certain organizations within his own territory.

At the thought of internal organizations, the General’s heart stirred, and the image of Qingli from the Nature Sect naturally surfaced in his mind. He had a love-hate relationship with that vixen. If she weren’t so non-threatening, her Nature Sect would have been wiped out long ago. He allowed the Nature Sect to exist only because he wanted to win her heart through a different approach. The General firmly believed that in the entire North, only he was worthy of enjoying every inch of her skin.

After fleeing the experimental base, Zhou Yuanqiang sprinted westward at full speed. Only now did he remember that he had forgotten something: he hadn’t left a “Zhou Yuanqiang was here” message. It seemed this endeavor wouldn’t be quite as legendary or badass as he had initially imagined.

Given Zhou Yuanqiang’s speed, combined with the cover of night, he was a difficult target. Even though his armor reflected light, by the time they reacted, he had already put ten kilometers between himself and the base at a speed they couldn’t possibly fathom. What followed was simple. He deactivated his Armor Art in a thicket of trees and teleported back to modern-day Somalia.

It was currently evening in Somalia. Electricity was scarce, and in Mogadishu where Zhou Yuanqiang was, at least half the people couldn’t use power normally…

However, the power supply for the Steel Park was completely independent, boasting its own solar power station and tidal power station. These two stations provided more than enough electricity for the entire Steel Park without any concerns.

The current Steel Park had flourished. Since the nearby high-tech park and industrial park had broken ground, the area had become even more bustling. Of course, the Steel Park remained closed to the public with very strict security measures. Even so, this didn’t stop the areas outside the park from being occupied by a massive influx of new buildings.

In a small restaurant, Zhou Yuanqiang ordered several steaks to go. The culinary skill couldn’t compare to authentic French steaks, but being able to enjoy this here was already a luxury.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t plan to eat all the steaks himself. Instead, he threw them into his storage space and returned to the apocalypse.

The ten-odd minutes he had spent away were just enough to dodge the helicopters tracking him from above. The distant sound of truck engines and the shouting of soldiers only made Zhou Yuanqiang chuckle. While helicopters might have stood a chance of catching him, it was impossible for trucks and infantry on these rugged mountain roads.

Acting with total confidence, Zhou Yuanqiang doubled back toward Changchun.

Due to the military mobilization, the residents of Changchun were somewhat uneasy. Fortunately, the troops deployed were only the rapid-response units and one aviation regiment, not a full division. Still, speculation was rampant; deploying rapid-response units meant something major had happened.

Modern cities weren’t like ancient fortresses with defensive walls. Changchun was so large that it was impossible to guard every inch of it.

When Zhou Yuanqiang returned to his temporary residence without a hitch, Qingli was peering outside. Seeing him return, she was instantly overcome with joy. “Where did you go? There’s military movement outside. I don’t know what happened.”

Zhou Yuanqiang had already packed the steaks and a bottle of chilled red wine in a bag. He held it up and said, “I overexerted myself just now, so I went out to find something to eat.”

At the mention of “overexerting,” Qingli shot him a fierce glare, but when she saw that the bag contained steaks, she let out a cheer. In a rare display of girlish excitement, she rubbed her hands together. “I haven’t had steak since the apocalypse began. I really missed this.” She tilted her head. “How did you get this? Even if you had its weight in gold, you couldn’t buy this.”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “If I told you I stole it from the army, would you believe me?”

Qingli actually believed this reason. In the apocalypse, there were still surviving animals. It wasn’t strange for the army to capture a cow or for them to slaughter it for food. The craving for meat in the apocalypse was beyond imagination; most cases of cannibalism were driven by a pathological desperation for meat.

The next morning, as they were leaving Changchun, they happened to run into the rapid-response units returning empty-handed after a night of futile searching.

Perhaps suspecting that the escaped Crystal Warrior had hidden in Changchun, the military had set up checkpoints and patrols along all major streets. According to the statistics gathered overnight, the experimental base was nearly ruined. The main laboratory, in particular, looked as if it had been hit by a storm. Without the main lab, the experimental base existed in name only.

When the General received this report, he nearly coughed up blood. Dr. Bai was so devastated by the blow that he fell ill and remained hospitalized.

In truth, the General and his staff knew that the apocalypse was different from the modern world. The wilderness was vast and desolate; if someone hid in a mountain forest, no amount of effort would find them, especially without satellite reconnaissance. Setting up checkpoints in Changchun and organizing patrols was merely going through the motions.

Indeed, these measures were useless against Zhou Yuanqiang. He took Qingli and left Changchun with zero resistance.

Once they reached the Changping Expressway, Qingli saw Zhou Yuanqiang stop and asked curiously, “What is it?”

Zhou Yuanqiang patted the motorcycle and said, “It’s nearly a thousand kilometers from here to Dalian. Did you really intend to do the whole trip on a motorcycle?” He told Qingli to wait there and sped off, disappearing from her sight. A moment later, a white Bugatti Veyron rumbled out from behind a toll booth.

Qingli’s sexy mouth hung open in shock. She couldn’t believe there was a Bugatti Veyron here.

In reality, this was the same car Zhou Yuanqiang had driven in Shanghai; he had simply pulled it out of his storage space for use. The expressway here had long been cleared by the General’s forces, so they didn’t have to worry about abandoned cars blocking the road all the way to Shenyang. How could he pass up such an opportunity?

Zhou Yuanqiang opened the door, beckoned to her, and said, “If you don’t mind going for a spin, please hop in!”

Qingli gave a faint smile and sat in the passenger seat. “I used to own a dozen luxury cars, but never a Bugatti Veyron. It’s more of a man’s car.”

Hearing her mention having a dozen luxury cars made Zhou Yuanqiang’s brow twitch. He could imagine that with Qingli’s stunning beauty, the men who “owned” her back then must have been at the pinnacle of power, or they would have invited disaster. Often, some things aren’t yours just because you want them; possessing them without the strength to back it up will only destroy you.

Once Qingli was inside, Zhou Yuanqiang floored it, and the supercar shot forward like an arrow.

They reached Shenyang in just two and a half hours. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t stop, continuing toward Dalian. If all went well, they would arrive in Dalian by early afternoon and could board the military airship anchored at the isolated island around then to leave the North. By then, his mission would finally be complete.

Of course, they wouldn’t drive straight to Dalian. Passing through Wafangdian, they needed to pick up a dozen of Qingli’s subordinates.

These subordinates were all women. In Zhou Yuanqiang’s words, he was finding wives for the bachelors back at the Association. He had seen their looks—they were above average and could be called pretty, though not breathtakingly beautiful. He wondered whose hands would be fastest; the quick would get a wife, while the slow… would get nothing!

A person driving a luxury supercar at high speeds on the expressway was a rare sight in the apocalypse. Most people stayed huddled in cities under military protection. Traveling meant risk, as many areas only had secured cities, while the surrounding areas had not yet been cleared of zombies. For Zombie Hunters, these places were paradise, but for others, they were forbidden zones.

They encountered a few checkpoints along the way. Naturally, the roaring supercar caused the guarding soldiers to jump and curse as they were left in the dust.

But catching up was impossible. Relying on armored vehicles, troop carriers, or a few private cars to chase a supercar was an international joke. Calling in a helicopter seemed like overkill; what if the driver was one of their own or a high-ranking officer? No one wanted to invite trouble.

The Shen-Da Expressway was only partially cleared, so in certain sections, Zhou Yuanqiang couldn’t go as fast as he liked. He had to rely on his superb driving skills to maintain a speed of around 160 km/h. When they hit areas with massive multi-car pileups, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind getting out and tossing the blocking cars aside like trash.

Whenever she saw Zhou Yuanqiang showing off like this, Qingli would roll her eyes. At first, she had been shocked by his terrifying strength, but she had gradually grown used to it. She now realized that the man before her was hiding many, many secrets.

Even after being together for five days, Qingli found that her understanding of him was pitifully sparse.

Forget his name—even the makeup on Zhou Yuanqiang’s face hadn’t been removed. To put it another way, she had been with him for five days and they had been intimate over a dozen times, yet she didn’t know his name or what he actually looked like. Even when she asked where he came from, the only answer she got was “an isolated island off the coast of Dalian.”

When they reached Wafangdian, Zhou Yuanqiang let Qingli go in alone to gather her sisters. Meanwhile, he put the supercar back into storage and appeared in Somalia. He found a bus in the Steel Park, removed its license plates, put it into his storage space, and returned to Wafangdian in the apocalypse.

With nearly twenty people, the supercar or a private car wasn’t practical. Since he was already mysterious enough, producing a bus wasn’t going to be that much harder for them to swallow.

The bus was actually made in China, custom-ordered through the Yuanqiang Trading Company in City S and shipped to Somalia via a company with export rights. There were ten such buses in total, all serving the Somali Steel Park, primarily used to transport foreign groups during inspections of the two parks.

Wafangdian had a garrison, so he couldn’t just drive through boldly, as they would definitely be questioned. After Qingli brought her subordinates out, Zhou Yuanqiang took a small side road to bypass Wafangdian. After a detour of several dozen kilometers, they returned to National Highway S212 and continued toward Dalian.

These women weren’t exactly young; most were in their thirties.

Don’t call them old—the apocalypse had lasted seven and a half years. Seven and a half years ago, they were just college graduates who had just started working. Only a few were in their mid-twenties. In the apocalypse, women like this were considered relatively young.

As soon as they boarded, they stared at Zhou Yuanqiang, sized him up, and the bolder ones even teased, “This guy looks pretty plain. How did he land our Big Sister? Is it because Big Sister has been without a man’s touch for too long and her heart was fluttering, so she just picked you at random?”

These words were incredibly blunt, making a cold sweat break out on Zhou Yuanqiang’s forehead. Even Qingli turned her head away, ignoring the group’s teasing.

The remaining hundred-odd kilometers took about an hour. When they passed the town where the legend of the supreme hero had spread, Zhou Yuanqiang felt a slight stir of emotion. If the General’s communications were faster or if they possessed more information, they would surely have realized the connection between that town and the experimental base, as the armor was identical. That was clearly the first point where he had appeared.

But this was fine too. At least the journey was smooth. One couldn’t expect them to discover him and then set up an inescapable net at the town, only for him to fight his way through with a crowd of women in a flashy display, right? He could have managed, but people like Qingli would have been turned into sieves by a Metal Storm in an instant.

Past the town, the number of zombies increased, no longer the scattered few they had seen before.

The people on the bus were all battle-hardened survivors, so they weren’t afraid of the zombies. In fact, since they were all armed, looking like a gang of female bandits, they actually got excited at the sight of the undead. If the bus windows weren’t sealed, Zhou Yuanqiang firmly believed they would have stuck their guns out and started spraying lead.

Finally, they reached Dalian. As they rounded a corner toward a beach, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “The scenery here is nice, isn’t it? The water and sky meeting as one, the sea breeze… it’s just a pity there’s no seagulls or ships. A waste…”

There were no zombies around. The women, who hadn’t seen the sea or a beach in a long time, swarmed off the bus and began playing joyfully on the sand.

Zhou Yuanqiang clicked his tongue. “If they were all in bikinis, that scene… tsk tsk, too decadent. It would be enough to drive a man wild. I’d probably be drained dry by these women who’ve been hungry for years.” He shook his head and shuddered at the thought.

Zhou Yuanqiang seemed to understand now why some big bosses always bought mansions to house a flock of beauties, playing in giant swimming pools every day. Because this was simply every man’s dream—something they had fantasized about and dreamt of countless times. Now that he had the power, why shouldn’t he make these mouth-watering scenarios a reality?

He called out to the frolicking Qingli and the others, then drove the bus into a nearby grove. While they couldn’t see, he performed his car-swapping trick again, storing the bus and pulling out an attack helicopter.

They were still dozens of nautical miles from the isolated island. He couldn’t exactly drive a bus into the ocean, could he?

Chapter 385: What Kind of Man

The thrumming sound caused the women on the beach to go nearly brain-dead. They stood there like fools, frozen in terror as their movements locked in place. In particular, when they saw an attack helicopter rise from the woods, fully armed with mounted missiles and revealing its ferocious, terrifying side, their subconscious instinct was to scatter and flee.

However, they had barely taken a step before they quickly stopped.

Weren’t those woods exactly where Zhou Yuanqiang had disappeared? The attack helicopter had risen from those very trees… Could it be?

The truth was exactly as they suspected. Zhou Yuanqiang stood up ostentatiously in the pilot’s seat, even squeezing his body halfway out to wave triumphantly at the group of women below. If such a flashy entrance didn’t have an effect, Zhou Yuanqiang felt he might as well find a block of tofu and smash his head against it.

Only Qingli, upon seeing the attack helicopter, had a strange light flash in her eyes. Her gaze wasn’t fixed on the show-off Zhou Yuanqiang or the weapon racks loaded with missiles; instead, it was fixed on the side of the helicopter—the logo of a seven-colored umbrella.

To have become the head of the Nature Sect and lead a team of hundreds of women, Qingli was certainly no mere trophy. she had a thorough understanding of everything in the North. That was why she had been able to answer immediately when Zhou Yuanqiang asked her what the General cared about most.

As such, how could she not know of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association of the South and that seven-colored umbrella?

Now, suddenly seeing the man who had claimed her flying an attack helicopter that specifically belonged to the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, she was left stunned and confused on the beach. No matter how clever she was, she truly could not figure out Zhou Yuanqiang’s identity.

From his appearance to the impact he brought, and especially every step of their journey back, it felt as if everything had been meticulously designed, with various modes of transport arranged at every turn. Honestly, Qingli was more inclined to categorize him as a master strategist who left nothing to chance, yet he constantly displayed a reckless, boisterous side that made it impossible to determine what kind of person he really was.

Once Zhou Yuanqiang landed the helicopter, he called out, “Beautiful ladies, have you played enough? It’s time to start our journey home!”

An attack helicopter could carry six people at most, unlike third-generation transport helicopters that could carry twelve to sixteen soldiers. Fortunately, there weren’t many of them, and the distance wasn’t far. After two round trips, Zhou Yuanqiang finally managed to move everyone to the isolated island.

The isolated island wasn’t small. Because the military airship was so massive, Zhou Yuanqiang had kept it hidden inside a canyon on the island to avoid detection; it was impossible to see the airship from sea level. Even when Zhou Yuanqiang led Qingli and the dozen or so women onto the island, they didn’t notice the military airship concealed within the canyon.

Looking at the desolate island, Qingli asked, “Is this the home you were talking about?”

Zhou Yuanqiang scratched his head and chuckled. “There isn’t a single soul here. By saying that, do you mean I want all these beauties for myself?”

Immediately, the women under Qingli wouldn’t stand for it and pelted Zhou Yuanqiang with a flurry of playful punches. However, seeing that Zhou Yuanqiang seemed to enjoy it, they all huffed and ignored him. Only Qingli understood that he was mostly joking. How could someone possessing an attack helicopter from the Yuanqiang Commercial Association stay in a place like this?

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t explain. Instead, he led them toward the canyon.

The island had been inhabited before, so several roads had been built, one of which led directly into the canyon. This meant they weren’t left wandering without a path.

After walking for a short while, Zhou Yuanqiang said he needed to relieve himself and ducked into a grove of trees. He quickly doubled back to retrieve the attack helicopter into his storage space. This thing is worth twenty or thirty million dollars; there’s no way I’m just abandoning it, he thought. He patted his clothes—having actually relieved himself—and hurried back to catch up.

It wasn’t until Zhou Yuanqiang led them into the canyon that they realized why he had appeared on the island.

Compared to the pathetically few airships in the North, which were only used for transport and were significantly smaller, the military airship looked like an adult standing next to a child. Don’t let its seemingly simple appearance fool you; the impact it had on the viewer was immense. The 278-meter-long military airship sat in the canyon like a giant. Beneath its height of several dozen meters, a person was so small as to be negligible.

Boarding the military airship, the women were like toddlers with new toys, touching everything and letting out frequent gasps of wonder.

The Commercial Association’s military airships were highly automated. For example, opening the gondola door required a scan of Zhou Yuanqiang’s handprint; no keys were needed. Once inside, even though it was a military vessel, the gondola had three levels. The bottom was the weapons and ammunition bay, primarily for bombing missions; the middle layer was for supplies; and the third level was the living quarters and cockpit area, which was also the largest floor.

The space on the third level was vast. With only a dozen people inside, it felt like being on a passenger jet with only a handful of guests.

Because it was automated, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t even need to stay in the cockpit. He spoke into the open space of the gondola, “Initialize Mainframe 0127. Check all airship systems.”

At first, Qingli thought Zhou Yuanqiang was talking to himself. But as soon as his voice fell, a female mechanical voice responded from the central cabin of the third level: “0127 received. Mainframe initializing… Mainframe initialization complete. System self-check in progress… System self-check complete. All systems normal. Ready to launch. 0127 welcomes the Chairman’s return. At your service!”

Identity confirmation was established the moment the handprint scan opened the gondola door. For a military airship like this, the verification procedure wasn’t overly complex because it was just a standard vessel. For execution orders from the Strategic Department, Zhou Yuanqiang would need at least a dozen different verifications and a very long password to proceed.

The scene, which looked like something straight out of science fiction, left Qingli and the others dumbstruck. In their eyes, Northern airships were extremely crude—fine for hauling cargo, but as for passengers, nobody wanted to be inside a place that felt like a wooden frame.

But here, not only was the automation staggering, but the third level was similar to the passenger jets they had flown in before the apocalypse, offering a sense of comfort. More importantly, the layout featured a large hall like a cafeteria and many individual rooms, usually with four bunks each. It felt less like an airship and more like a yacht.

Zhou Yuanqiang walked toward the cockpit and said, “Ladies, don’t say I didn’t warn you. The airship is about to take off. There will be some shaking. If you fall down, don’t come blaming me.”

Seeing everyone nervously grabbing onto nearby fixed objects, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “0127, target altitude 3000 meters. Execute return at cruise speed. Destination: Shanghai. Execute order.”

“Order received. Executing…”

It wasn’t until the military airship began its ascent that Qingli and the others realized they had been tricked by Zhou Yuanqiang again. While the airship did shake slightly, it was more like the vibration of a moving train. Far from making someone fall, it felt more like being in an elevator. How could anyone fall?

So, they all let go of the objects they were gripping so tightly, preparing to settle the score with Zhou Yuanqiang…

Just then, the military airship rose above the canyon. Exposed to the sea winds, the vessel suddenly lurched violently. The poor women, who were no longer holding onto anything, lost their center of gravity in the sudden jolt. They tumbled onto the gondola deck, falling flat on their backs.

Then, Zhou Yuanqiang’s annoying voice drifted over: “I warned you already. Why didn’t you listen?”

Qingli, thanks to her physical strength, didn’t fall. But hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s words, she gritted her teeth in anger. She stormed into the cockpit, intending to give him a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, Zhou Yuanqiang had anticipated this. He grabbed her hand, pulled her into the cockpit, and the door slid shut automatically.

The cockpit resembled the flight deck of a bomber, filled with various instruments, completely different from a transport airship.

Sitting in the pilot’s seat, Zhou Yuanqiang brewed a cup of hot coffee from a nearby machine and handed it to Qingli. He pointed at the shrinking island and said, “Enjoying the view from here is something a passenger jet could never compare to. Heh, a chance like this is rare in life.” He leaned back in the pilot’s seat, cushioning his head with his hands. “0127, play some upbeat music.”

“Order received!”

Light music began to play. It was hard to imagine this was a military airship.

Qingli took a sip of the coffee and said, “Now, you should finally tell me your name, shouldn’t you?” She took on the tone of a slighted woman, saying softly, “Do you really want me to just follow you blindly without knowing who you are?”

Zhou Yuanqiang hadn’t intended to keep hiding it from her. From the moment the attack helicopter appeared, he knew the seven-colored umbrella logo had already exposed the reality that he was from the Southern Yuanqiang Commercial Association. The military airship only confirmed it. Since there was no need to hide, he wouldn’t; he wasn’t someone who needed to live in the shadows.

Zhou Yuanqiang took a 100-yuan Seven-Colored Currency note from his pocket and handed it to Qingli. He then found some clean water and began washing his face, removing the makeup he had applied.

Qingli was baffled by his actions. She had seen this kind of Seven-Colored Currency in the North before, although its circulation was prohibited there, so not many people had seen it. She turned the hundred-yuan bill over in her hands and said, “Giving me spending money? Pfft, we’re still a long way from the South.”

Zhou Yuanqiang: “…”

After washing the makeup off his face, he sat back down in front of Qingli and winked playfully.

Viewing his true face, Qingli felt a sense of familiarity, as if she had seen him somewhere before. But she couldn’t quite place it for a moment. She said doubtfully, “Why do you look so familiar? It’s like… like I’ve seen you somewhere. Yes, and it was somewhere very specific.” She frowned. “But where was it?”

Zhou Yuanqiang tapped her on the head and gestured with his chin toward the banknote in her hand.

Qingli looked aggrieved, her expression combined with her soul-stirring beauty making Zhou Yuanqiang nearly want to “discipline” her right there in the cockpit. After all, he had never experienced that at high altitude; he wouldn’t mind trying it once. It would… probably… definitely be very thrilling.

When Qingli’s gaze returned to the banknote, her head felt like it exploded as the realization finally hit her. She finally understood why the man before her felt familiar and why she had seen him in a “specific place.” It turned out… she had seen him on the money. On the portrait on the banknote.

She swallowed hard, completely disregarding her image. She understood perfectly well what that man’s portrait on the currency represented… He represented the most powerful man on the continent in this current apocalypse. Even the General in the North didn’t reach his height. Qingli had always believed that the General’s strength would be unable to withstand the iron hooves of the Southern Yuanqiang Commercial Association; the current peace was merely a buffer period for both sides.

She never would have guessed that the man who had been with her for five days was actually the man on the portrait—the man who held absolute power.

But thinking back on these five days, Zhou Yuanqiang had acted just like a big boy—vibrant, innocent, funny, knowing how to soothe a woman, and even serving her. Truly, Qingli could not reconcile the Zhou Yuanqiang of the past five days with the Chairman of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association in her mind. It was simply too incredible.

In this apocalypse, who wasn’t cold-blooded and ruthless, killing people like flies? To maintain their power, they would use iron-fisted suppression against survivors of the disaster, erasing any voice of opposition. This kind of unrestrained power often caused those in high positions to lose themselves, leading naturally to deeds that exceeded all bounds of human endurance.

Yes, Qingli couldn’t put the man in front of her together with the man in her imagination; the discrepancy was too great.

“You… you’re really Zhou Yuanqiang? The Chairman of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association?”

Looking at the shocked Qingli, Zhou Yuanqiang shrugged. “I doubt anyone would try to impersonate me for this kind of thing.” He laughed and added, “Actually, ‘Chairman’ is just a title. No matter what, I’m still me—the one who showed his true self to you. Or you can just set that identity aside, just like we did during these past five days.”

Qingli remained dazed. The shock was indeed too great for her. Although she possessed looks and strength far beyond ordinary people, at the end of the day, she could not escape her identity as an ordinary person—an ordinary woman. She needed time to digest this news properly, so she fell silent.

Zhou Yuanqiang understood, so he didn’t disturb her.

The military airship finally reached its commanded altitude. The two rear thrusters ignited, and the entire vessel began its flight toward the south. After the stabilization system was engaged, the swaying disappeared, replaced by a slight vibration similar to being in a passenger jet.

Only now did the women on the airship finally have the chance to look out the gondola windows at the endless ocean below and the dark strip of land on the horizon where the water met the sky. They knew that was the direction of Dalian, and beyond it was their former home. They were leaving their home for a South they had never visited.

The entire flight would take about thirteen hours. It was currently 4:00 PM; they would arrive in Shanghai in the middle of the night.

After setting the flight to auto-cruise, Zhou Yuanqiang gently patted Qingli’s shoulder. Without saying a word, he left the cockpit and walked into the large kitchen. He began preparing for the upcoming dinner and the midnight snack. Thinking about his actions, he really didn’t seem like a powerful Chairman; he seemed more like a boy pursuing a girl.

“Whatever. As long as I think it’s fun and pleasant, it’s the right thing to do.”

The clattering from the kitchen and the drifting aroma made Qingli, who was now standing at the kitchen door, suddenly feel a sense of happiness she had never known. Yes, as he had just said, no matter what, he was still him; he wouldn’t change because of a title. Even the man who used to claim he loved her had never cooked a single meal for her.

And the man before her, who held much greater power, was now busy in the kitchen like a common man, preparing dinner for her and her sisters.

“Let me help you!”

Qingli rolled up her sleeves and, with somewhat clumsy movements, helped Zhou Yuanqiang wash a bundle of greens taken from the refrigerator. Then, seeing a large piece of pork in the fridge, she shouted happily, “We’re in for a treat tonight! I want braised pork and twice-cooked pork.” These were memories from her childhood. Now, Qingli only wanted to forget everything from the past and, from this moment on, only keep him in her heart.

Zhou Yuanqiang laughed loudly and tapped her nose. “You little glutton. But tonight, there’s plenty for everyone.”

Only Zhou Yuanqiang understood that such a leisurely time would likely be hard to find once he returned to Shanghai. Because what lay before him was the North… No matter what, from this trip to the North, Zhou Yuanqiang could see that the General would not compromise. Between the two sides, one was destined to vanish forever into the river of history.

Perhaps this would trigger a conflict similar to a civil war, but Zhou Yuanqiang was confident he could take the North with minimal cost, even if the General possessed ultimate weapons.

Zhou Yuanqiang wanted the other side to know that war was not just about man versus man, fighter jet versus fighter jet, or the clash of a steel torrent of tanks. There were many ways to wage war, and no matter the method, the one who laughed last was the winner.

At this thought, Zhou Yuanqiang tossed the wok, flipping the ingredients inside. A sharp light flashed in his eyes. General, are you ready?

Chapter 386: Drawing the Snake Out of Its Hole

Shenyang served as the General’s headquarters, and a massive number of troops were stationed there.

Generally speaking, the reason the General’s expansion had ground to a halt lay within Shenyang itself. A city with such a massive population had consumed too much of the General’s ammunition. The cost in personnel to capture it was a debt that could not be repaid even after two months of rest and reorganization. The ten thousand new recruits drafted from the ranks of the Zombie Hunters might have had experience firing guns, but two months of training had only managed to give them a semblance of military discipline.

Despite nearly 1.5 million people having moved into Shenyang, the streets remained incredibly empty.

Adopting a method learned from the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, the entire city of Shenyang was divided into four districts. One district housed a large concentration of relocated military-industrial enterprises, two districts were assigned for residential use, and the final district served as the administrative area for the Northern regime. Nearly a hundred thousand troops were stationed outside Shenyang, having established a simple, temporary military camp.

Relocating a large number of military enterprises into the city was a move of necessity for the General. The city was far safer than the outskirts, as it sat under the direct protection of the army. Since the city itself required military protection, why split forces to protect distant factories? By bringing them together, they could save a significant amount of defensive manpower and deploy it where it was needed most.

After nightfall, a chill settled over the air.

Patrol teams were everywhere within Shenyang’s designated military-industrial zone. After dismantling a large number of traffic monitors from across Shenyang, they had been reinstalled throughout this zone. Every corner was equipped with a camera, allowing the control room to observe every movement within the military-industrial area.

Because Shenyang was positioned at the heart of the General’s territory—effectively the deep rear—the patrol teams’ duty was technically to prevent infiltrators. However, their patrols were somewhat lackadaisical. In their eyes, patrolling this place was merely a formality. Who would dare attack such a location?

By 1:00 AM, the leader of five patrol teams was yawning incessantly. Thinking this was just another normal night, he didn’t give it much thought. He stood up and spoke to a lone patrolman left at the sentry post. “Xiao Zheng, I’m headed back to rest. If a superior asks, just say I’m out on patrol.”

Xiao Zheng was well-acquainted with his leader’s character. “Captain, don’t worry. The higher-ups might not even show up.”

As the captain pushed the door open to leave, a gust of cold wind hit him, making him shiver. He cursed under his breath, “This hellish weather… how is it even colder than it used to be years ago?” A moment later, a BMW private car driven by the captain disappeared down the street.

Once the captain was gone, the respectful smile on Xiao Zheng’s face vanished, replaced by a cold sneer. He quietly felt something in his pocket, then acted as if nothing were wrong, leaning against the sentry booth and smoking a cigarette. Occasionally, he glanced toward the end of the pitch-black street as if waiting for something.

Soon, a faint sliver of light appeared at the end of the dark road.

A Toyota Corolla appeared gracefully on the street. It pulled up quickly at the sentry booth, and three men in their early thirties stepped out. They were also wearing patrol uniforms; to anyone not paying close attention, their identities would not be questioned.

Xiao Zheng breathed a sigh of relief when they appeared and lowered his voice. “Did you all memorize the ‘Nightcat’ data?”

The three nodded. One of them pulled a black box from the Corolla’s trunk. They had already thoroughly mapped out the surveillance cameras in the area. Finding a blind spot, they quickly removed the contents of the black box: four pitch-black, small spheres.

Including Xiao Zheng, each person took one. They then formed a temporary patrol squad and headed deep into the military-industrial zone.

Their movements couldn’t possibly evade the cameras, but the people in the monitoring room all knew Xiao Zheng. On normal days, Xiao Zheng frequently hung out in the control room, and over time, everyone there had become familiar with him. Moreover, Xiao Zheng was exceptionally clever, always bringing over good wine and expensive cigarettes.

More importantly, Xiao Zheng was sometimes responsible for the oversight team, which didn’t have a fixed patrol route.

Tonight was no exception. When the people in the control room saw Xiao Zheng leading a small squad down the street, they didn’t think twice and continued bragging and chatting. To them, what could possibly happen in this area? It was past 1:00 AM; it was likely just another dull night.

Faced with this situation, only Xiao Zheng knew that this was the result of a year and a half of undercover work. He had spent his time befriending a specific set of targets. Although the entire operation had only moved into Shenyang two months ago, the people in the monitoring room already treated him like a brother.

Crucially, his duties inherently gave him the authority to move about freely. Even if they had suspicions, they wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

With data provided by other agents and Xiao Zheng’s own scouting over the past two months, he was incredibly familiar with the area—he could find his way with his eyes closed. According to his instructions from above, his task was to sabotage the four core factories in the military-industrial zone, bringing ammunition production to a standstill.

Xiao Zheng understood that once his task was complete, the entire ammunition supply chain would be severed. It would take at least a month before it could be operational again.

The apocalypse was not like the modern era; if you needed parts or electronic instruments, you couldn’t just get them replaced quickly. Here, if a machine had a problem, finding a spare part was no simple feat. For military manufacturing, once the electronic components of specialized machinery were destroyed, repairing them was a massive headache.

As Shenyang was a major city, the quarter designated as the industrial zone was quite large. A walking patrol couldn’t reach everything instantly.

By 1:30 AM, in the eyes of the monitoring room staff, Xiao Zheng and his team had just finished a full circuit of the area. Even the breaks they took to smoke or use the restroom seemed perfectly normal to the observers.

Upon returning to the sentry booth, Xiao Zheng didn’t stay. He slipped into the Corolla, and the car sped away, vanishing into the streets. They didn’t linger in Shenyang; instead, they fled the city under the cover of night. After hitting the ring road, they avoided the highway and took a third-tier provincial road, disappearing into the distance.

Just as Xiao Zheng and his team completely left Shenyang, four interlocking electrical grids silently erupted within the military-industrial zone. Each one covered an area of tens of thousands of square meters. Within that range, everything electronic and all fragile components became victims of the dancing web of electricity. Electronic parts were fried one by one.

The electrical grids only lasted for a few seconds, but this sudden phenomenon brought about an irreversible and devastating loss.

By the time startled soldiers rushed to the affected areas, they found small fires burning everywhere. In some places, these had already grown into major blazes. Even now, they had no way of knowing what had happened; most assumed it was a massive short circuit.

The immediate priority was firefighting. Consequently, the resident workers, soldiers, and patrol teams all threw themselves into the effort, fighting the fires across the zone.

For a time, the entire military-industrial zone was in chaos, the sounds of firefighting echoing through the night sky.

It wasn’t just Shenyang; areas such as Changchun and Yingkou were also hit by this wave of attacks. Key factories, military bases, critical infrastructure, and raw material extraction points were all targeted. It could be said that overnight, the industry the General had painstakingly built up had been set back by more than a year. Crucially, without these facilities running, the entire industrial output would be paralyzed for at least two months.

The Daqing Oil Field, the General’s largest oil source, was likely spared only because the attackers felt it would be a waste to destroy it.

The General, who had flown into a rage only half a month ago, was stunned when he received the news of the disaster in Shenyang. After the initial shock came a roar of fury. He grabbed everything in his bedroom and smashed it. No longer caring about his image, he screamed, “With so many people on guard, how could the enemy infiltrate us? Are they all useless rice bags?”

He hurriedly threw on his clothes and, accompanied by his adjutant and a guard platoon, headed straight for the military-industrial zone.

The fires had only just been extinguished, and gray smoke rose from the ruins. The soldiers who had been on duty in those sectors had been turned into charred corpses. In just seconds, the electricity had virtually scorched them from the inside out. Until the moment they died, they couldn’t understand what the massive electrical grid was.

“What exactly is going on here?”

When the damage report was handed to the General, his face twisted in a mask of rage. The comprehensive military-industrial zone he had worked so hard to establish had been decimated. Only half of the factories were still functional. However, because the key links in the production chain were missing, the entire zone had lost its purpose. He couldn’t expect a single shell to be produced here for at least two months.

But the General’s roaring was just the beginning. As news reached him that other locations had been hit at the exact same time, he felt a wave of dizziness, as if he might faint.

Having risen to the rank of Major General in the old world, he was no fool. It only took a moment for him to realize who had launched this attack. Who else but the Yuanqiang Commercial Association in the South could provide such powerful, large-scale weaponry? Looking at the residues of the scene, the General—who had seen experiments before—instantly recognized that the destruction had been caused by weapon technology powered by crystals.

No group within his own territory possessed such capabilities.

People at the General’s level didn’t think in simple terms. Others might only see that armaments production would stop for two months, but the General was already considering the motive behind this coordinated strike.

Disregarding the fact that it wasn’t even 5:00 AM, the General immediately called an emergency military meeting.

“They destroyed our munitions factories for a simple reason: to cripple our logistics. With our capabilities, it will take at least two months to repair. This means our Southern opponents will likely launch an offensive within these two months.”

The officers present all nodded in agreement with the General’s analysis. Chen Shuan, the General’s Chief of Staff, stated, “Thanks to the efforts of the Intelligence Department, we have a direct understanding of the Southern Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s strength. Their military force is several times our own. Logistically, they should be charging at us aggressively. Instead, they have unexpectedly used this shameless sabotage tactic to destroy the factories we rely on. It’s clear they want to take the North with the smallest cost possible.”

Many agreed with Chen Shuan. The South wasn’t using a hidden conspiracy; they were using an overt strategy—one where the trap was laid out in plain sight.

It had to be said that this was a brilliant move. The General’s forces had only begun expanding rapidly this year, and their industrial base was relatively new and thus the North’s weakest point. Now that the enemy had struck this vulnerability, the resulting trouble for the North was unimaginable.

After discussing troop deployments, the General squinted at his intelligence officer. “I want to know if our agents in the South have the ability to launch a retaliatory strike. Our national etiquette emphasizes reciprocation. Since they sent us a gift, we should thank them in kind to show our style.”

The intelligence officer hesitated for a moment but then nodded. “General, if they can do the first, we can do the fifteenth. We will pay them back in full.”

In the military-industrial city of City D, G Province, in the South, Zhao Hu’s pupils contracted when he received the order from the North. However, he quickly and secretly issued commands to discuss the orders from his superiors. The orders were clear: use any means necessary, for the General was beyond furious.

Zhao Hu was not a Northerner; he was from Tianzhou City. Ever since the Northern trade caravans first appeared, he had served the North, acting as a chess piece on the Tianzhou Plain. It was this identity that allowed him to become a veteran within the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, gaining employment in important military departments and occasionally accessing core sectors.

It was because of Zhao Hu that the North had been able to plant a large number of spies in City D to monitor the military technology development of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

Zhao Hu was extremely cautious. Unless necessary, he almost never contacted the North or the other operatives scattered throughout City D. If he could help it, he didn’t even want to expand the network of informants. He didn’t want to expose himself; he knew the Intelligence Department of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was a terrifying opponent.

However, tonight, he had no choice but to summon the operatives scattered across City D to execute the mission assigned by his superiors: the sabotage of the Association’s military-industrial system.

To avoid suspicion, he didn’t schedule the meeting for late at night or the early hours of the morning. Instead, he chose the evening, using the excuse of a dinner party at his 200-square-meter apartment to discuss how to strike the major factories and what methods to use.

But before Zhao Hu could even propose a plan, his expression suddenly changed. He noticed something very strange: the entire building he lived in was devoid of its usual noise. It was eerily quiet, as if his home was the only one occupied and everyone else had vanished without a sound.

Realizing this, he rushed to the window and pulled back the curtain. What met his eyes were streets filled with soldiers armed to the teeth. They had silently surrounded the entire building. Only then did the “thrumming” of attack helicopters break the unnatural silence as they circled above the roof.

“Impossible… there’s no way they found us. It must be a coincidence. They aren’t here for me.”

Zhao Hu’s face turned deathly pale. The dozen or so operatives gathered in his home also lost all color in their faces. Although they wanted to believe it was a coincidence, could such a coincidence really exist? With the enemy deploying such a massive force, even if these spies grew wings, they couldn’t fly out of the trap.

Below the building, Xu Yuhai leaned against a BMW police car, exhaling rings of smoke from a custom cigarette. The immense pressure of the Intelligence Department had taught him how to smoke. However, Xu Yuhai also felt that smoking made him seem more masculine and gave him a more imposing aura.

He looked up and saw the corner of a curtain being pulled back on the 17th floor and smiled.

Finishing his cigarette, he waved his hand. “Action. Capture every single one of them. Kill anyone who resists. Even if they’re dead, I want to see a body.”

As soon as his voice fell, a large number of soldiers in body armor swarmed into the building. For them, this was the easiest counter-intelligence operation imaginable. There were only a dozen spies; the soldiers surrounding them could practically drown them in spit.

The operation indeed went smoothly. Only a few scattered gunshots rang out before silence returned.

A few minutes later, seventeen people were brought out. Three were corpses on stretchers; the other fourteen were handcuffed, their faces surprisingly calm.

Only Zhao Hu struggled, shouting, “Let me go! You’ve got the wrong man! I’m the leader of the third military-industrial group, I’m not who you’re looking for!” He still held a shred of hope, but when he saw Xu Yuhai leaning against the BMW police car, looking at him with a half-smile, Zhao Hu’s head slumped.

If it were anyone else, he might have had a chance, but if the head of intelligence himself had come out for this, Zhao Hu knew his denials were useless.

Chapter 387: A Quick Trip Around

From beginning to end, the General had guessed half of the situation correctly but had completely missed the other half.

Destroying the enemy’s armories was indeed intended to cause problems for their ammunition supply, but that was only one objective. The other objective, proposed by Xu Yuhai, was to lure the snakes out of their holes and then wipe them all out in one fell swoop. Years of working in intelligence had matured Xu Yuhai significantly. He had long since calculated the General’s personality, knowing the man would never let the matter rest.

In fact, things unfolded exactly as Xu Yuhai had planned. Zhao Hu, whom the Intelligence Department had been watching for a long time, finally exposed himself completely under orders from his superiors.

In the apocalypse, excuses held no weight. When dealing with those who wielded power similar to a state machine, even if you weren’t truly a spy, if they killed you, there was nowhere to go to plead your case. Everyone there had a record of killing dozens or hundreds of zombies; they wouldn’t hesitate to kill a person. The consequence of resistance was being shot dead without a second thought.

Realizing this, Zhao Hu and his men chose to surrender. Only three men resisted and chose to fight back. Their end was clear—they didn’t even graze the enemy before becoming three cold corpses. No one would consider them heroic; they were seen only as symbols of stupidity.

Within the Commercial Association, Xu Yuhai had been demoted from “Mr. Five Minutes” to “Mr. Three Minutes.” Those who didn’t know the truth would surely think he only lasted three minutes with a woman.

In reality, this was praise for Xu Yuhai’s intelligence capabilities, implying he could generally obtain any necessary answer within three minutes. This nickname was given to him by people within the Commercial Association who felt insecure. At first, Xu Yuhai had thrown a massive fit about it, but he couldn’t stop everyone from calling him that, so he could only dejectedly accept the moniker.

Zhao Hu, of course, knew this well. Once he fell into Xu Yuhai’s hands, he didn’t even need to be tortured; he confessed everything he knew with absolute frankness.

A storm erupted the following morning. Intelligence personnel, acting as secret police, appeared in various cities, arresting people who hadn’t even woken up yet and quietly taking them away. Most of these individuals were already known to the Intelligence Department, but some very deeply hidden ones were given up by Zhao Hu.

With the cooperation of Zhao Hu—the biggest spy ever hidden within the Commercial Association—almost every spy the North had planted was rooted out.

Upon receiving this news, the General was once again so furious he coughed up blood. He hadn’t expected the enemy’s true intention was to use the armory distraction to expose his agents and reach a goal of total elimination. It could be said that without this large group of agents, his understanding of the Southern Yuanqiang Commercial Association would remain frozen at its current state.

Following the mass removal of his spies, the North fell into an intelligence vacuum. The General was now effectively blind, unable to track any movement of the Southern Association.

Trembling with apprehension, the General accelerated the mobilization of his troops, beginning to mass them along the Tianjin line. At the same time, he sent fighter jets deep into the South to gather first-hand reconnaissance. Considering the formidable strength of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, the General held nothing back, throwing everything he had onto the front lines.

By early September, the General’s deployment was finally complete, forming a massive net, waiting for the Commercial Association’s forces to charge straight in.

However, as he looked at the satellite map where individual soldiers were clearly visible, Zhou Yuanqiang sneered inside the satellite control center. At this moment, the advanced military satellite proved its immense value. The General’s entire troop deployment had been under the surveillance of the control center from the very beginning. The positioning of Northern forces could not escape the Intelligence Department’s grasp.

In modern warfare, the most important factor was, in fact, air superiority.

With air superiority, the enemy was exposed nakedly before you, at your mercy. With the Association’s fleet having grown to 3,000 aircraft, they would be considered a major air power even in the pre-apocalyptic world. How could they fear the General, who could barely scrape together 200 jets? More accurately, this was merely a game of cat and mouse.

The General also understood the disparity in their air power, so he deployed a vast number of anti-aircraft guns throughout his troop positions and city defenses.

On the ninth day of the ninth month—which should have been the Double Ninth Festival—the military base on the outskirts of Shanghai was incredibly busy. Fighter jets arriving from the G City Military Region were massing at this airbase. The scale of over 2,000 jets packed the entire base to capacity. Above the airbase, The Chairman and The Sky appeared like two fleets filling the space between heaven and earth, hovering high in the clouds.

A scale of 2,000 fighter jets was simply too massive. The pressure on logistics was immense; the amount of fuel required alone was an astronomical figure.

Following the massive air fleet were over a hundred transport airships. they brought sufficient ammunition and uncalculable amounts of fuel to the Shanghai airbase. As the Commercial Association gradually abandoned large uninhabited areas and contracted its borders, the massive transport airships had become redundant. Out of necessity, the Association had organized half of them into a dedicated military transport fleet to ensure the stability of the entire logistics chain.

The other half of the transport airships served civilian needs, ranging from hauling goods to acting as passenger liners. Together, they formed the transportation backbone of the entire Commercial Association.

Zhou Yuanqiang did not act out of a hunger for glory; he always advanced step by step. Because of this, he did not launch a “human wave” aerial tactic in a fit of momentum. Instead, he waited until everything was ready before issuing the order, commanding the massive air fleet to execute the General Staff’s mission.

On the sixteenth day of the month, the sky was clear and cloudless. The rising morning sun kicked off a busy day in the international metropolis of Shanghai. People went about their business as usual, finishing breakfast and rushing to work. For many who had lived at the bottom of society before, being able to live in Shanghai was a blessing across several lifetimes. With their pre-apocalypse wages of only 800 or 900 to a little over 1,000 per month, they would have had to save for hundreds of years without eating or drinking to buy a home in a place where land was as expensive as gold.

Things were better now. After enduring several years of the apocalypse, they owned residences of over 150 square meters. Those who had made significant contributions even lived in villas spanning thousands of square meters.

Current life had brought earth-shattering changes for the majority of people.

In contrast to the ordinary residents whose lives remained unchanged, today was a special day for the pilots at the airbase. From five in the morning, a large number of ground crew members performed yet another inspection of the aircraft. By six, they had finished inspecting 2,000 jets. By seven, the refueling and rearming were complete.

At seven-thirty, all pilots entered their cockpits. Under instructions from the control tower, the first jet taxied onto the runway. With a burst of acceleration, it soared into the sky within moments.

Then came the second, the third, the fourth… until 120 jets had taken off, forming a massive fleet representing one aviation division, heading north. Another aviation division followed suit under command, jets taking off one by one, trailing behind the first division in formation.

The strength of fifteen aviation divisions—1,800 fighter jets—was nearly ten times that of the North.

Due to the destruction caused by the apocalypse and the purging of his spies, the General naturally couldn’t get a single piece of news about these 1,800 jets before they took off. His only action was to order his troops to stay alert and watch for movement from the South. Other than that, the 200 J-series fighters deployed on the front lines could only take to the air passively.

The General wasn’t waiting until they appeared to notice them. About 100 kilometers south of the front line, there were always a few reconnaissance planes patrolling, which provided enough early warning for the rear jets to prepare.

In the Northern air force, only the J-11 could compete with the HY-3. The J-10 could barely hold its own, but models like the J-8 were far too obsolete. Not only that, because the General’s air force had been established too late, only a few pilots were veterans from the old military. Most were rookies; they could get the planes into the sky, but their skills were far too lacking if they wanted to dogfight with the enemy.

At this time, in the skies above the Northern front, two J-10s were flying in a leader-wingman formation.

In one J-10, the young pilot was full of excitement. He called out over the communicator, “Being able to soar through the sky has been my greatest dream since I was a kid. I never thought I’d actually succeed. Every time I fly this thing, I feel like the whole sky is in my hands.”

In the other J-10 was a mature, middle-aged pilot. He flew steadily, performing no unnecessary maneuvers. Hearing his partner’s words, he simply smiled and said, “Alright, Xiao Luo, we’re on a mission. Are you afraid you won’t have time to experience it later?”

The younger pilot didn’t argue, but said dismissively, “People always talk about how powerful the Southern air force is, but we’ve been facing off for nearly a year now, and I’ve never seen their air force anywhere. At most, it’s just two or three stray recon planes. Bah, if they’re real heroes, they should fight us in a fair, square battle.”

The middle-aged pilot shook his head and said, “Xiao Luo, even if the enemy exaggerates, even if we cut their numbers by ninety percent, they aren’t something we can compare to. I’ve heard the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s air force has been developing for nearly four years. And us? We only just started this year. The gap between us is very, very large.”

Xiao Luo was still unconvinced, but he didn’t dare continue arguing. He could only say, “Understood, I’ll respect their existence.”

However, Xiao Luo had no choice but to show respect. On the jet’s radar, a single red dot appeared, then two, then three, until a massive swarm suddenly flooded in, nearly crowding out the entire radar screen. With them packed so densely, it was impossible to tell just how many there were.

Having never encountered such a situation, Xiao Luo instantly panicked, shouting, “What’s going on? What is this?”

While the middle-aged pilot’s face turned pale, he immediately contacted Ground Command, roaring, “Sky calling Command! Sky calling Command! Large-scale enemy aircraft detected! They are rapidly approaching the front line! Repeat, large-scale fighters detected, current numbers cannot be determined!”

A moment later, a black line appeared on the horizon. It was impossible to tell how many jets were required to form such an advancing wall.

Xiao Luo, who had just been boasting, saw his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He indeed couldn’t determine the exact number, but he knew there were many, many jets. They formed a rolling wave, surging toward the North. Their own two jets were so tiny they were practically negligible.

“No, it wasn’t an exaggeration. It’s real! Thousands of jets!”

The middle-aged pilot understood that in the face of thousands of jets, even if every single aircraft in the North took off, they couldn’t stop them. Whether in numbers or experience, there was a massive disparity. This war had been decided from the very beginning.

But the General had to fight. No one willingly gives up massive power. Without power, a man like him faced destruction. Although the General also understood he couldn’t win against the Yuanqiang Commercial Association with his current strength, as a man who was not only a soldier but also a politician, he considered much more.

If he surrendered too easily, he wouldn’t be able to maximize his interests. Only by fighting the enemy and dealing them a painful blow would he have more bargaining chips for negotiations, thus securing greater benefits for himself. And he believed the other side wouldn’t want to pay too high a price either. In the General’s view, it would end in a win-win situation.

His power would be guaranteed. As long as he held onto the North, even if he were under the Commercial Association’s jurisdiction in name, he would still be a local warlord in practice.

This scheme, of course, could not be known by outsiders. Therefore, after the General received the news from the front, he remained expressionless and said, “Have the troops follow the previous deployment. They must hold the line for me.” However, thinking of the “thousands of jets” mentioned in the report, a wave of helplessness washed over him.

“Since the world has me, why must it also have him?”

Whenever he thought of this problem, the General felt a sense of grievance that needed venting. If there were no Yuanqiang Commercial Association, if he were given just two more years, he likely would have achieved the unification of the entire continent himself, perhaps even continually expanding the borders. But did he have any more time? The Yuanqiang Commercial Association was definitely watching like a tiger, ready to deliver a fatal strike at any moment.

The Northern air force, receiving the General’s orders, realized that flying their 200 jets to meet the enemy was a pointless endeavor. After taking off as a whole, instead of engaging, they retreated further to the rear to preserve the “embers” of their hard-earned air force. Otherwise, these 200 jets wouldn’t even survive a single round of missiles from the 2,000 enemy planes.

At the anti-air defensive works, after confirming the altitude of the massive aircraft fleet, countless anti-aircraft guns waited for their prey to appear.

In the North, there weren’t many tanks or jets, but there were plenty of anti-aircraft guns and surface-to-air missiles. They were sufficient to give any plane that entered their range a “delicious” meal of attacks—the kind that would leave a lasting impression.

Dali, leading the massive aircraft formation, swore loudly when he reached the Tianjin line. “A bunch of idiots.” He then commanded, “Order the formation to bank east. We’ll circle around to Dalian and make landfall from there.” Since they knew there were lines of defense here, who would be stupid enough to charge straight in and become target practice?

Thus, to the stunned disbelief of the soldiers and officers on the Northern front, the massive fleet suddenly turned and flew toward the east, disappearing over the horizon in moments.

Many couldn’t understand what they were doing flying toward the ocean. But those with sharper minds saw their faces turn grim because they realized the enemy had only come to the front lines “to get soy sauce”—intended merely to scare them. Their true intention was to bypass the Tianjin line and appear in the heart of Northern territory from the direction of Dalian.

Unlike ground troops or the navy, aircraft were almost entirely unconstrained and free to move.

They knew there were massive defensive works, vast clusters of anti-aircraft guns, and numerous surface-to-air missiles forming an inescapable net. But why would the enemy barge right in? To be heroes? Most of the North’s fantasies about using these guns to take the enemy down a notch were merely wishful thinking.

Soon, everyone who realized where this massive fleet might appear felt their faces change color.

A huge number of surface-to-air missiles and anti-aircraft guns had been concentrated on the Tianjin line. These weapons had been stripped from other cities. Now, those cities were empty and had zero air defense capability. With such a massive fleet appearing, one didn’t even need to think to know that the cities under the General’s control were likely doomed.

Receiving this news, the General helplessly slapped his forehead. He had considered this possibility before, but he hadn’t thought it was important. As it happened, exactly what he feared most was exactly what the enemy did. Making a landing from Dalian all the way to Shenyang, there would be no resistance. They could conduct their aerial performances freely.

The fleet led by Dali bypassed Dalian and didn’t bother with second or third-tier cities like Wafangdian, nor did they bomb residential areas.

Before coming, Zhou Yuanqiang had already briefed them. This air raid was primarily to destroy the North’s railways, power facilities, armories, and grain storage points. Without railways, the General’s logistics and troop movements would become difficult and complicated. Destroying power facilities and armories would deal a heavy blow to the General’s supply chain. Once the grain storage points were ruined, it would bring an absolute storm upon the entire North.

Their first target was Yingkou.

In Yingkou, there was a major grain storage point. Dali fully believed that in such a short amount of time, the General couldn’t have moved it. After splitting off one aviation division to execute the destruction of the granaries in Yingkou, the fleet did not stop there, but instead lunged toward the General’s headquarters: Shenyang.

Shenyang was not very far from Yingkou. At the speed of a fighter jet, it would take barely more than ten minutes to arrive.

Chapter 388: No Food, Panicking Now?

Yingkou had received a warning, but everything they did was in vain. An aviation division appeared in the sky, and missiles, like rats that could smell grain, pounced relentlessly.

The consequences were predictable. The grain warehouses supplying the entire Yingkou frontline were reduced to nothing in the flames of war.

It was estimated that within a week, over a million people on the Yingkou line would be staring with desperate eyes and empty stomachs if no rescue measures were taken. There were still two and a half months until the second harvest, and the situation was now even more dire than it had been just before the apocalypse began.

In the cities, villages, and towns, there was no leftover food from years past. After seven and a half years, what could possibly be left in the supermarkets that was still edible?

Meanwhile, Shenyang had received news the moment the fleet flew over Dalian. Despite having well-established defensive works, Shenyang immediately plunged into a state of severe tension. Every resident retreated to their home under the sound of sirens, praying to every deity they could name, begging that the flames of war would not reach them.

On the outskirts, massive numbers of soldiers worked desperately to fix anti-aircraft guns and adjust their firing heights. More soldiers, led by their officers, ran to their positions along the defensive lines.

To compensate for the lack of anti-aircraft guns and surface-to-air missiles, a vast number of machine guns were hauled to the rooftops of Shenyang’s skyscrapers, set up and aimed at the sky. Even snipers were deployed to the rooftops, tasked with using their sniper rifles to target these high-flying fighter jets.

The General knew full well that machine guns and sniper rifles would have little effect against third-generation fighter jets, but he had no other choice.

On the defensive lines, after preparations were complete, everyone looked up at the sky. A tense atmosphere permeated the front. The hands of some soldiers gripping their weapons were slick with sweat. The soldiers responsible for the anti-aircraft guns were even more nervous; for men with so little experience, without radar data to guide them, only God knew if they could actually hit anything.

“Sarge, why do you think the South is attacking us?”

A soldier clutching a submachine gun huddled in a trench, complaining. “The enemy air force appears, and what does that have to do with us infantry? Using our submachine guns? What a load of crap. Staying here is basically just waiting to die. Their bombs don’t have eyes.”

The man called “Sarge” was actually a small-time platoon commander. He glared at the soldier and said, “Always something with you. What the higher-ups do isn’t for us to worry about. You’d better think about how to keep your life in a moment.” He looked up at the sky and shook his head. “As for these crappy anti-aircraft guns of ours… they’re about as useful as a kick in the teeth.”

The massive fighter jet fleet of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association arrived faster than expected. When the sky-darkening fleet appeared, everyone who saw it stared blankly at the heavens, their mouths hanging open involuntarily.

And then…

“Enemy attack! Enemy attack!”

Sirens wailed mournfully across the front lines and throughout the city of Shenyang behind them. Panicked people and running soldiers, faced with such a massive formation, threw aside their oaths to defend Shenyang to the death. They had only one thought: praying they would be one of the lucky ones to survive the fire.

The formation swept over the front lines. The anti-aircraft guns below roared, blooming flowers of death in the sky.

With such a dense formation, some damage was inevitable. However, as soon as those roaring anti-aircraft guns revealed their positions, one or more missiles would pounce, blowing the gun directly into the sky. The soldiers operating the guns had no chance to escape, turning into bits and pieces along with their equipment.

In just a few minutes, the anti-aircraft guns and missiles that had been stretched thin across Shenyang were wiped out. The frontline was left completely exposed, allowing the aircraft formation to do as it pleased.

With no further threats to the jets, the formation spread out and launched attacks on pre-determined targets. Numerous factories turned into seas of fire, and buildings collapsed under missile strikes, burying everything inside. Grain storage warehouses became the primary targets for the missiles. Ammunition depots were even more “popular,” with dozens of fighter jets treating them like prey.

Half an hour later, the dark mass of the fleet circling in the sky finally departed, heading home after completing their task.

But they left behind a scarred Shenyang and a wounded North. As the capital of the North, Shenyang’s military industrial zone was nearly destroyed, and its grain warehouses were leveled. The grain salvaged was not enough to feed Shenyang’s million-plus people for even three days. In the areas where ammunition was stored, the secondary explosions of hundreds of thousands of shells had leveled the entire district, wiping it from the face of the earth.

Casualties among ordinary residents were not heavy, as only a few were caught in crossfires. Most of the casualties were the workers and soldiers at these sites. In the military zone alone, hundreds died in the raid. The cataclysmic explosion at the ammunition depot erased more than two hundred people from existence, turning them into residents of the underworld.

Destroyed factories could be rebuilt, but the destruction of food would plunge people into starvation.

People who had lived through the apocalypse were sensitive to food to the point of paranoia. Only those who had survived the era of madness sparked by famine could understand how difficult it was to stay fed and clothed.

They had finally reached a semblance of stability, only to hear that the food had been destroyed and inventories wouldn’t last a week. The news hit the people like a boiling pot; everyone felt as though the sky were falling. Some of the more clever ones immediately took their hard-earned savings and bought up every scrap of food they could find.

The city was a mess of chaos, filled with rising plumes of smoke, looking like the end of the world all over again.

Faced with these losses, the General had to prioritize stabilizing the residents of Shenyang while urgently calling for grain from Changchun and other areas. Thanks to the bumper harvests of recent years, the stored grain was actually enough to support the entire North for two years. What had been destroyed was only a portion; the remainder could still sustain them for six to ten months.

Once the situation stabilized slightly, the anti-aircraft forces on the Tianjin line had to be split, with a portion transferred to the Dalian line.

Exhausted by the crisis, the North remained unaware that every move they made was under the watch of spy satellites. From their deployments to troop movements and emergency measures, nothing was a secret.

In truth, for the Commercial Association, this massive sortie was merely a strategy of “beating the grass to scare the snake.” The fleet was mostly there just to flex its muscles before returning. Destroying two of their grain storage points was merely incidental. Had they been serious, those 1,800 fighter jets would have turned every major northern city into a sea of fire long ago.

After the fighter fleet returned, a prepared group of bombers took off from the airbase under the escort of fighter jets, flying toward the North at a massive altitude.

With a flight ceiling of 20,000 meters, the bombers treated the anti-aircraft gun batteries like mere decorations. Even if radar detected the bomber fleet, the North’s air force could only stare helplessly. The Commercial Association’s escort fighters outnumbered them three to one.

The massive bomber fleet wasn’t picked up by radar until it reached the Tianjin line.

However, against bombers at such an altitude, except for a few surface-to-air missiles, the anti-aircraft guns were completely powerless.

To his immense frustration, the commander of the Tianjin line had just finished redirecting a batch of missiles toward the Dalian line. Some had been dismantled but hadn’t even been loaded onto trucks yet. He could only smack his forehead in despair; it was as if the enemy had an eye staring right at him, knowing his every move.

Once the bomber fleet crossed the Tianjin line, and before the retreating Northern air force could react and scramble for interception, the weapon bays opened one by one.

Menacing air-launched cruise missiles revealed themselves. After detaching from the bombers, their boosters ignited, and they streaked toward their target coordinates. The entire bomber fleet released its cruise missiles almost simultaneously. Over three hundred missiles formed a meteor shower that lit up the entire sky.

These air-launched cruise missiles dropped from high altitude to fly less than 50 meters above the ground. With a range of 2,300 kilometers, they were capable of reaching any point in the Northeast starting from the Tianjin line.

The Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s strategy was to fight a modern war of long-distance precision against the North. They aimed to achieve the greatest gains with the smallest cost. By utilizing their advanced military technology, they delivered devastating blows to vital targets—power plants, armories, grain storage sites, and oil depots.

In the apocalypse, grain storage was never about “storing wealth with the people.” Instead, it was managed through centralized control.

The General’s previous strategy was to centralize all food in his own hands and then distribute it to the residents. This was intended to make the residents feel grateful to him and to keep them under his control. In times of need, centralized grain was a lifeline; as long as he held it, he didn’t have to fear anyone stepping out of line.

However, the General Staff of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association saw through this. By using precision strikes to destroy these concentrated grain storage points, they were shaking the very foundations of the North.

This wave of cruise missiles didn’t just target Shenyang and Yingkou. Cities like Changchun and Harbin were all within the strike zone. According to data obtained by the General Staff, with a 95% accuracy rate, this strike was enough to strip the entire North of its logistics and throw it into total panic.

Indeed, when the General in Shenyang received the intel caught by the radar units during the bomber launch, he fell into a state of panic himself.

His intelligence department wasn’t strong enough to let him know that the southern Commercial Association possessed such an ample supply of cruise missiles. The mere thought of over three hundred cruise missiles was staggering. For someone who had only reclaimed half of the northern cities, it meant that each city was likely to suffer more than thirty cruise missile strikes.

He wanted to make a last-ditch effort to save what he could, but without knowing the enemy’s targets, he was powerless to do anything before the missiles arrived.

Half an hour later, the cities located five or six hundred kilometers behind the Tianjin line were the first to experience the cruise missile strikes. With data provided and constantly corrected by spy satellites, vital factory facilities were blasted into the air in an instant. Entire districts were swallowed by raging fires.

One after another, starting from Tianjin and moving toward Shenyang, Changchun, and Harbin, the strikes continued.

It was like a massive wave crashing onto a beach, leveling every sandcastle in its path. In these cities that the General had worked so hard to reclaim, the sounds of explosions echoed from every power plant, grain warehouse, and oil depot. The immense power of the cruise missiles left these places in a state of eternal inferno.

Those two hours were a complete nightmare for the North. Every city was deeply entrenched in the terror of the cruise missile attacks.

“It’s over… it’s all over!”

The General, who hadn’t eaten a thing since morning, stood in the Shenyang command center. As he listened to one loss report after another, he muttered to himself, dazed. He knew exactly what the destruction of these places would mean for the North. From the moment the attack ended, the North had already begun its descent into chaos.

“How are the civilians reacting? Has the news been blacked out?”

Hearing the General’s question, an adjutant nearby answered cautiously, “Because it happened so suddenly, the civilians only know they were attacked. They don’t yet know exactly what was destroyed. All loss reports have been suppressed. However, General, such losses can only be hidden for about three days. We must find a way to minimize the panic within three days, otherwise…”

The General waved his hand and said, “Leave that to the General Staff. I just want to know if it’s possible for us to put our own cruise missiles into use.”

The adjutant gave a bitter smile. “General, I’m afraid not. We don’t have satellite guidance. If we force a launch, we can only hit a general area; it wouldn’t serve any purpose.” He continued, “The fact that they could pull off such a large-scale precision strike means they definitely have high-performance satellites. Barring any surprises, our entire North is under their constant surveillance.”

Thinking of this, everyone felt a sense of powerlessness, and a shadow loomed over their hearts.

The General’s plan to suppress the news was destined to fail, as the Commercial Association had already anticipated this move. One must not forget that before the apocalypse, the authorities were masters of news control; countless truths had been suppressed in the name of “maintaining harmony.” Good news was exaggerated, and bad news was cut in half. As a former general, the ruler of the North would naturally use these same tactics.

However, a large number of aircraft carrying leaflets were deployed, along with planted secret agents. They were more than enough to explain the situation to everyone.

On a street, a middle-aged man wearing glasses hopped onto a stone lion in front of a bank. He shouted to the terrified crowd below, “Everyone, don’t panic! Our North’s grain is centrally managed. The General might have enough grain stored in other places. Don’t fall for the enemy’s tricks; we have to believe the General has a solution!”

It would have been better if the man hadn’t mentioned it. Once he did, many people became furious. “We opposed the central management of grain back when it started! Now that it’s been destroyed, we should go to the General and demand our food! Otherwise, we’ll all starve to death!”

Finding a common resonance, the first thought of these terrified people was food. Whoever got there first would have the food.

Thus, the frantic people began to swarm toward the military barracks, fearing that if they went too late, nothing would be left. Based on their knowledge of the city, they knew the explosions at the grain depots were massive. Even thinking with their toes, they could figure out that the grain was surely gone.

The middle-aged man had seemed well-intentioned, but when he saw the crowd being stirred up by his suggestion, a cold smirk appeared on his face that no one noticed. He quickly vanished into the crowd along with his companions who had been doing the same elsewhere. For them, their task was complete; they could no longer control how the situation would develop from here.

Similar scenes played out in many places. People who received these hints became agitated. To them, everything that happened today was caused by the General’s policy of centralized food management. If the food had been distributed to every individual, even if the military factories were destroyed, the people would at least have enough to eat.

“Food! Food! We want food!”

Shouts rang out. People who had lost their cool under the pressure of survival surrounded the General’s administrative offices, blocking the officials inside. Even the military bases were surrounded by massive crowds. Those who had survived the apocalypse were no pushovers; they were characters who could turn into desperate bandits at any moment.

Facing this immense pressure, city leaders who still had some remaining food stocks immediately tossed the problem back to the General in Shenyang.

Looking at the collapsing situation and receiving reports for aid from everywhere, the General rubbed his temples desperately to stop the pain. He sighed, his eyes filled with loneliness. “The situation has reached its most critical moment. It’s on the verge of spiraling out of control. Do we even have a choice?”

The army could suppress the riots if needed, but what happened after that? People of the apocalypse were not “good children”; they had been through the baptism of life and death. Provoking them into a state of endless insurgency was a losing proposition. This move by the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was indeed something the General hadn’t anticipated, and it had successfully backed him into a corner.

“Issue the order. Have the cities release their remaining grain to temporarily stabilize the people.”

Chapter 389: All Must Flee!

On the main roads leading toward Tianjin, dense, teeming crowds appeared. They were all dragging families along, carrying luggage, and trekking down the highways on foot.

Occasionally, one or two cars would get wedged into the human tide, their drivers frantically and incessantly honking their horns, making the entire highway an unending cacophony. In normal times, people might have cleared a path, but now the entire road was packed so tight that making way for a vehicle was harder than ascending to the heavens. Moreover, everyone was looking out only for themselves; who had the time or energy to care about the blaring of a car horn?

The people, who had once lived in relative peace, had seen their lives turn into a nightmare since the attacks began half a month ago. The lack of food supplies had plunged them back into the same desperate straits they had faced at the beginning of the apocalypse.

In fact, one could say the current predicament was even more severe than the start of the disaster.

Back when the apocalypse first began, food was everywhere. As long as you were willing to risk your life, you could snatch enough food from the hands of the zombies in villages, towns, and cities. At that time, food was exceptionally abundant—canned goods, supermarket snacks, and all sorts of packaged grains were everywhere. Despite the terror and despair of the initial collapse, there had still been a glimmer of hope for survival.

But this crisis was happening seven and a half years into the apocalypse. Supermarket food was a thing of the distant past, canned goods were long gone, and any remaining packaged grain had rotted into a putrid stench. Even if you wanted to risk your life for a bit of food, there was nowhere left to go. Under the targeted strikes of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, the food supplies had been systematically destroyed until everyone was left with nothing but an empty stomach.

At first, the North could use surviving stockpiles to stabilize the situation. However, as the distributions ceased, true panic set in. Driven by despair, the people even dared to attack the military; to them, they were dead either way. Perhaps by charging in, they could secure some grain and live a little longer.

With the North spiraling out of control, the General had no choice but to consolidate his military forces, focusing them on Shenyang to suppress the waves of conflict erupting one after another.

The food in the General’s hands was needed to supply the army, and it was barely enough to last about two months—just until the next harvest. But if he were to provide for millions of civilians, there wouldn’t be a single grain left in the entire North within a week. That would be the true disaster. By keeping the army, he at least had a chance for a comeback; if the army was gone, everything would truly be finished.

Bloody conflicts escalated every day. In the cities, people began to starve to death. Driven by fear, the masses threw themselves at military strongpoints, searching for any hope of survival. However, they were just ordinary residents, and their weapons had long since been confiscated. What could they do against rows of machine guns?

Almost every conflict ended with a massive number of ordinary citizens lying in pools of blood.

At this moment, the General finally revealed his ruthless side. To him, only by beating them until they were terrified would they cease their rioting. A soldier should have an iron-blooded, heartless side; as a General, he had to face everything with cold logic and could not let a moment of softheartedness destroy the efforts of the past seven and a half years.

The deterioration of the situation was well within the expectations of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. When the first deaths from starvation were reported, the General Staff knew it was time to execute the second phase of their plan.

Thus, the spies lurking in the North once again proved their worth. They moved deep among the hungry and desperate people, inciting them to flee to the South. They told stories of a Peerless Commercial Association in the South that was incredibly wealthy—a place where there was not only enough grain to eat but also meat, where one could live a life like the days before the apocalypse.

To earn their trust, the Starry Sky performed its first mission: it carried a vast number of small loudspeakers pre-loaded with recordings of Zhou Yuanqiang’s speeches and guarantees. It bypassed Changchun from the direction of Inner Mongolia and entered the Northern regions, scattering these small speakers into the hands of the desperate people.

“We welcome all of our fellow countrymen. Everything is prepared here to guarantee your livelihood. I, Zhou Yuanqiang, in my capacity as the Chairman of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, guarantee that every person who arrives will receive fundamental respect and protection. You will enjoy all the benefits of the Association. You will not need to worry about food. Furthermore, we provide plenty of meat, ensuring every person gets to eat large, succulent chunks of fatty pork.”

These words seemed crude and lacked sophisticated rhetoric, but they were lethal. To people who didn’t know where their next meal was coming from, these words conjured images of the fatty pork they hadn’t tasted in years. Their hunger intensified, driving them to the point where they would do anything for a bite to eat.

In truth, at a time like this, flowery language lost its appeal. Only these blunt, visceral words could strike deep into their hearts.

Those who refused to wait for death gathered what little food they had left, hurriedly packed their bags, and headed toward the Tianjin line. Rumors said that once they crossed Tianjin, people would be there to receive them. Once there, they would no longer have to worry about hunger or their safety.

Though the General and his staff understood exactly where these people were going, they could only watch helplessly as vibrant cities turned hollow in a matter of a day or two, leaving behind only the garrisoned soldiers. Perhaps from this moment, the entire North had lost its meaning.

As if he had lost his mind, the General faced the empty city and growled through gritted teeth to the commander of the Tianjin line: “Block them for me! What I can’t have, they won’t get either. Even if they are to die, let them die in the North.”

This incomprehensible order plunged the command center at the Tianjin line into an endless silence…

Among the fleeing crowds, every person carried a mix of despair and hope. They didn’t know if their starving bodies could make it all the way to Tianjin. Cities like Harbin were simply too far from Tianjin; many would likely collapse on the road halfway there.

And yet, as long as there was a shred of hope, people would not give up.

Lacking food, the grass roots and leaves along the highway became their means of survival. Like a swarm of locusts, the fleeing crowds stripped the roadsides bare; wild grass was uprooted, and leaves were plucked until the branches were naked. Those at the front found things to eat, but those at the back had to veer far off the highway to find leaves to stave off their hunger.

The bloody and dark scenes of the apocalypse played out repeatedly among the refugees. Some who had lost their humanity looked at the crowds on the highway and saw only “two-legged sheep.” In their cruelty, they would even snatch their targets in broad daylight and drag them toward the mountains near the road.

Everyone knew what fate awaited those who were dragged away, yet no one had the strength to interfere. They continued to march down the highway like the walking dead.

At the Tianjin line, the command headquarters, having remained silent for a long time after receiving the order, finally began to set up checkpoints on the highways based on the principle of military obedience. They intercepted the massive crowds of refugees arriving at the line, refusing to let anyone through. Out of pity, those who tried to sneak past were merely caught and shoved back into the crowd; the soldiers did not execute the “kill on sight” order.

Massive numbers of people gathered at the Tianjin line, soon forming a vast sea of humanity.

“Why won’t you let us through?”

“Let us across! we need to get across!”

“You bunch of executioners! You’re pushing us into a furnace!”

Countless shouts rang out along the Tianjin line. The number of people grew from hundreds to thousands, then to tens of thousands, and eventually to hundreds of thousands. Like a human tide, the number of refugees was nearly ten times greater than the 50,000 soldiers guarding the line.

An elderly man was pushed against the barbed wire fence. His hands were torn by the spikes as he gripped the wire, blood flowing freely, but he ignored the pain. He shouted at the soldiers behind the fence, “Have a conscience! We have no more food. Are you really going to just watch us die here? Tell me, are you still descendants of Yan and Huang? Do you still have a shred of humanity?”

The dozens of soldiers facing him all looked ashamed, and some even lowered their heads.

They knew the consequences of blocking these people. Many were only holding on through sheer willpower; if they didn’t get food soon, once they collapsed, they would never get up again. With hundreds of thousands gathered here, more than half would likely starve to death within two or three days. Worse still, a continuous stream of people was still surging toward them…

“Child, have some mercy and let this old woman through. I still have a grandson to raise.”

An elderly woman, holding her pitiful twelve or thirteen-year-old grandson, leaned against the wire fence and pleaded loudly, “Please, show some mercy. It wasn’t easy for him to survive the apocalypse. Is he really going to be starved to death here? Open your eyes and look—are your hearts truly made of stone?”

Some of the more desperate began to ram the wire fences and walls, shouting, “If you don’t let us through, we’ll fight you to the death!”

The entire Tianjin line was on the verge of spiraling out of control. If not handled correctly, a charge by hundreds of thousands of people—unless the soldiers slaughtered them all—would be enough to destroy the entire line. These starving people would be driven by their ultimate primal survival instincts and tear the 50,000 soldiers to pieces.

Just as the Tianjin line command was hesitating, a man who shouldn’t have been there appeared in their headquarters.

“General Si, you see the situation now. I believe any person with a conscience would not stand in their way.”

It was hard to believe that as the Chairman of the Commercial Association, Zhou Yuanqiang would actually appear here alone and without a hint of fear. He knew he shouldn’t have come, but as the one who had engineered this outcome, he felt that if he didn’t handle this well, his conscience would never let him be at peace. He would carry the guilt for a lifetime.

Si Wen was the frontline commander of the entire defensive line. He stared at Zhou Yuanqiang and said angrily, “Chairman Zhou, what right do you have to judge us? Isn’t all of this your doing?” He pointed a trembling finger toward the distance. “They were living stable lives, but you were the one who destroyed it all.”

Zhou Yuanqiang replied, “It was me, you’re right. But you must understand that a war between us was inevitable. Since I could use this method—the one with the lowest cost—to dissolve a war that would cause widespread suffering, why wouldn’t I choose it? Should I have fought a head-on battle against you instead? I think that’s completely unnecessary. I don’t want to see tens of thousands of deaths.”

Knowing this to be true, Si Wen fell silent. He understood the General’s character; to the General, power was more important than life itself.

“General Si, the current situation is beyond your control. The entire North is filled with people in flight. You should see the reality before you. You should also understand that it’s not that I lack the power, but that I don’t want to use it. Otherwise, I guarantee I could destroy every remaining pocket of resistance in the North through open warfare within three days.”

Zhou Yuanqiang continued, “I don’t want to make grand excuses. I only want to ask one thing: General Si, are you still a member of the descendants of Yan and Huang? Do you still possess a human heart? If so, please order your troops to let them pass. A soldier’s creed is to follow orders, but I say that when an order violates one’s conscience, it is no longer an order.”

Glancing at Si Wen, Zhou Yuanqiang said flatly, “General Si, I leave the choice to you.”

As he stepped out of the command center, he looked back and narrowed his eyes. “I will give you only one hour. If time is up and you still haven’t made a decision, I will help you make it.” With that, he walked out.

A dozen soldiers surrounded him, pointing their guns at Zhou Yuanqiang.

Si Wen said, “Chairman Zhou, aren’t you afraid I’ll have you shot? That way, the Yuanqiang Commercial Association would be leaderless, and this crisis would naturally dissolve.”

Zhou Yuanqiang laughed and shook his head. “General Si, I know your character. I believe you won’t do that. Besides, even if you killed me, this crisis wouldn’t dissolve. Instead, it would invite an endless wrath that would leave not even a dog or a chicken alive in the North. More importantly—you can’t kill me.”

Having said his piece, Zhou Yuanqiang brushed aside the soldiers blocking him and strode away from the headquarters.

Si Wen stopped the soldiers and sighed. “There truly is a reason the Yuanqiang Commercial Association could rise so quickly. With a Chairman like this, what could possibly stop them from sweeping across the continent?” He stood there in a daze, staring at the spot where Zhou Yuanqiang had vanished. Suddenly, he gritted his teeth and shouted, “Pass down my orders: Let them through! Let them through!”

As Si Wen’s order was issued, the soldiers, who were already at their breaking point, all let out a sigh of relief. They began cutting the barbed wire and moving the obstacles.

Like a flood breaching a dam, hundreds of thousands of people surged through the Tianjin defensive line. The sight of hope and the desire to live drove them to push forward relentlessly. The soldiers on the line turned pale as they watched the human torrent; they could easily imagine that if the crowd had charged earlier, they would have been torn to shreds.

The area extending over 100 kilometers in front of the Tianjin line had originally been a no-man’s land, a buffer zone with the South.

But now, in this buffer zone—even within five kilometers of the Tianjin line—massive transport airships covered the sky. They landed and took off continuously, delivering food by the ton. Below them, rows of large pots were set up, boiling with thick meat porridge that emitted a powerful aroma.

Lines of large sea-bowls were filled to the brim with meat porridge, and staff members added a few stalks of green vegetables to each serves.

In the past, such a sight would have been impossible. But the entire Tianjin line acted as if it didn’t exist, with the soldiers retreating into their defensive works. To them, if they didn’t see it, they wouldn’t be tormented by the scent of meat porridge that made their mouths water.

For the people crossing the Tianjin line, just as Zhou Yuanqiang had guaranteed, their survival was immediately secured. They would eat a long-overdue meal of meat porridge here and rest for the night. The next morning, after breakfast, they would board trains heading south to officially become members of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

Every person who had trekked so far to get here beamed with joy as they looked at their bowls of meat porridge.

Although it was the Yuanqiang Commercial Association that had caused this situation, they could understand it. In war, it was the common people who suffered. Being given this kind of treatment showed that the other side had done everything humanly possible. Regardless, this side was far better than the General; at least they didn’t view human lives as mere weeds in a critical moment.

Perhaps the General still didn’t understand. Every person in the North he had worked so hard to build had once felt grateful to him. But with a single order, all of that had vanished, and he had completely lost the hearts of the people.

From the moment the first wave of refugees passed through the Tianjin line, Si Wen, as the frontline commander, also understood what disobeying his orders meant. After a brief negotiation, he officially declared his surrender and handed over command of the entire Tianjin line.

Thanks to the surrender of the Tianjin line, large numbers of fighter jets now dominated the airspace over the North. Numerous transport airships appeared, dropping packs of compression biscuits along the highways where the refugees were traveling. Relief points were established to provide basic food supplies to the starving, helping them reach Tianjin.

To speed up the evacuation of Northern personnel, the Commercial Association invested massive amounts of labor and resources to begin repairing the damaged main railway lines, aiming to get trains running as far as Changchun and Harbin.

Consolidated in Shenyang, the General roared with bloodshot eyes. He couldn’t understand how, in just half a month, the entire North he had painstakingly built had been destroyed by “sugar-coated bullets.” Had everyone forgotten that he was the one who led them to drive away the zombies, grow the grain, survive the bitter winters, and usher in a bright tomorrow?

“You’ve all forgotten! You’ve all forgotten! Hahaha… Zhou Yuanqiang, you’re forcing me to use my trump card! You’re forcing my hand!”

At that moment, the General’s face became twisted and hideous as he clenched his fists tightly.

Chapter 390: The Great Madman

In normal times, such a plot would have been impossible to realize. However, in this apocalyptic era where food was paramount—and especially since the North operated under a unified food management system—the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was presented with a rare, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Across the highways of the North, a massive army of refugees surged forward. With millions of people spanning the three northeastern provinces, the logistical difficulty was unimaginable. The only things the Commercial Association could do were, first, ensure that those fleeing south would not be struck down by starvation, and second, guarantee their personal safety during the migration.

A massive fleet of aircraft roamed freely across the skies of the three northeastern provinces, suppressing the air forces held by the General.

Given their absolute air superiority, the transport airships had no need to fear attacks from the General’s air force. Spy satellites monitored every move in the several cities almost twenty-four hours a day. If the General’s air force hadn’t retreated into their airbases, which were protected by sophisticated anti-aircraft defenses, Xu Dali would have long since followed through on his desire to tear the enemy’s two hundred-plus fighter jets to shreds.

Facing this situation, anyone could see that if the people were allowed to escape, the regime would eventually lose its populace. They would be like fish out of water, destined only for death.

The General, whose personality had grown increasingly warped, immediately ordered a massive deployment of soldiers to set up checkpoints at city entrances and exits following the surrender of the Tianjin Defense Line. Leaving the cities was strictly forbidden. When conflicts arose, they were met with bloody suppression; tens of thousands of people fell in the streets under the strafing of machine guns. Blood stained the streets red, even gathering into small streams; the water flowing through the sewers was nothing but crimson gore.

Rivers were dyed red, and abandoned corpses floated everywhere upon the water’s surface.

Under this high-pressure crackdown, the people in the cities who were preparing to flee were truly driven to despair. Having paid the price of tens of thousands of lives, they finally understood that the checkpoints were an untouchable barrier. The mild-mannered General of years past no longer existed; the current General was lost in an ocean of power, having transformed into a complete madman.

It was one thing in other cities, where soldiers still had hearts and merely blocked residents from leaving.

However, in Shenyang, the General’s primary stronghold, his orders were executed to the letter. As the most populous city in the North, at least 400,000 people remained trapped in Shenyang, having failed to leave in time. These were the people who had believed in the General the most, trusting that he could find a way out of this predicament. In the beginning, there were still congee stands set up to keep people from starving to death. However, even if there were few grains of rice in the congee, the consumption of 400,000 people was still a figure the General could not sustain.

The first few days were manageable, but after that, two meals a day became one, and eventually, there was nothing but a bit of rice water.

By this point, everyone knew that the grain supply was a problem the General could no longer solve. Even the most loyal citizens, when faced with such hunger and cold, had no choice but to try and leave Shenyang for the Tianjin Defense Line mentioned in the leaflets.

Yet, those who had trusted the General the most were the ones he dealt the most fatal blow.

Under the state of suppression, hunger caused people trapped in the city to continue dying of starvation. Driven to despair and possessing warped minds, some became cannibals. These vicious monsters set up large pots, butchering the poor wretches they captured and stewing them.

Countless atrocities played out across the city. It had turned into a literal hell.

Receiving the intelligence reports, Zhou Yuanqiang looked at the satellite photos and fell into a long silence. Under the weight of hunger and the struggle for survival, even the most honest people could become feral. Things that occurred in ancient history, like swapping children for food, were now playing out in the apocalypse. The shock this brought to Zhou Yuanqiang was incredibly intense.

“Could I really be wrong?”

Zhou Yuanqiang asked himself. It could be said that everything happening now was indirectly caused by him. Everything was going according to the General Staff’s plan, but they had never imagined the General would issue such an order. He would rather let these hundreds of thousands of people starve to death in the city than let them leave and fall into the embrace of the Commercial Association. What kind of cold-blooded demon would possess such resolve?

This was no longer for the purposes of war; it had become a total massacre.

At this point, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t even need to take action; the General Staff had already begun adjusting the plan. No longer would they use bait and pressure; they decided to use warfare to resolve the Northern issue. There was no more time for the Commercial Association to wait. Every day, a large number of people were dying of hunger. As fellow descendants of Yan and Huang, no one could allow a tragedy involving over two million people across several cities to continue.

However, the General Staff’s deployment had only just begun when a team of three helicopters appeared at the Tianjin Defense Line from Shenyang.

To Zhou Yuanqiang’s surprise, the former supreme ruler of the North—the man known only as the General, whose real name was never spoken—was part of this team. When they arrived at the Tianjin Defense Line, Xu Yuhai already knew the purpose of their visit.

Negotiations. Yes, that’s right; they were here to negotiate.

Zhou Yuanqiang had never left Tianjin. When he received this news, he was momentarily stunned. He had thought the General would hold out until the very last moment, but he hadn’t expected the man to come in person so soon. Regardless of the General’s ultimate goal, Zhou Yuanqiang knew that a peaceful resolution to the Northern problem was the best outcome for both sides.

In a meeting room of the former government building in Tianjin, Zhou Yuanqiang met the General, who still commanded a force of over 250,000 troops.

The General, now calm, appeared to be around forty-five or forty-six years old. He looked sophisticated and refined; the first impression he gave was that of a man from a scholarly family—a Refined General. However, first impressions had lost their meaning to Zhou Yuanqiang. If the General had maintained his scholarly character, he might have earned Zhou Yuanqiang’s respect. But now…

From the start, the meeting was thick with the scent of gunpowder. Zhou Yuanqiang entered the meeting room and sat down at the table with an expressionless face.

The General, on the other hand, was all smiles, as if he were the host. He was intimately familiar with Zhou Yuanqiang; a wealth of intelligence had been enough for him to understand the man’s personality, appearance, and abilities.

“To meet the famous Chairman Zhou… truly, a hero emerges from the youth. At Chairman Zhou’s age, you already rule half the country. Remarkable indeed.”

The General spoke first. In truth, there was an unsolved mystery in his heart: how did this Zhou Yuanqiang manage to make the dirt-poor wilderness settlement of the Wildlands rise so rapidly in the apocalypse? In just one year, they had repelled a wave of a million zombies, annexed the Great Canyon—which had a larger population than the wilderness settlement—and extended their reach into the Tianzhou Plain.

He thought of how he had controlled hundreds of thousands of people since the second year of the apocalypse and held a massive advantage, yet in just one short year, he had been left in the dust by his opponent.

In the second year of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association’s founding, it developed even more rapidly. They captured Qingyuan City, developed a terrifying air force, established a complete industrial system, saw their population surge to two million, and annexed the Tianzhou Plain, causing their population to leap once more. The massive fleet of transport airships they built almost monopolized trade among the settlements in the entire southwest, using economic means to swallow those settlements one by one.

In the third year, they incorporated the Lanxi Plateau—home to several million people—into their territory, bringing their total population to over eight million.

The General could not fathom what allowed a commercial association to develop at such a frantic pace. Hundreds of transport airships, numerous military airships, an air force larger than one could imagine, an army gradually being armed to the teeth, and the appearance of a super aerial aircraft carrier. All of this had ensured the General hadn’t had a moment’s peace for two straight years.

Zhou Yuanqiang, of course, didn’t know the General’s thoughts had wandered so far. He sneered and said, “The General flatters me. Compared to the General’s iron-fisted methods, I am far inferior. I can’t even hold a candle to you. I’m curious, General—how could you bring yourself to give such an order?”

“That is precisely the purpose of my visit today.”

The smile on the General’s face didn’t flicker, as if the two million people on the brink of death were merely a colony of ants. He stared at Zhou Yuanqiang and said calmly, “I know Chairman Zhou is a merciful man; you certainly wouldn’t watch them die of hunger like that. Therefore, I assume Chairman Zhou won’t mind providing them with grain to spare them from their fate?”

Zhou Yuanqiang laughed and said, “Should I consider that a threat?”

The General replied, “That depends on how you view the issue. If you truly cannot bear to see them starve to death, then I suppose it isn’t a threat. If you think the lives of these two million people don’t matter, then you can consider it one. Of course, I don’t think Chairman Zhou could stand by and watch them be starved alive.”

Zhou Yuanqiang fell silent. Now he finally understood why the General had desperately kept those people there—because from the beginning, he had intended to use them as bargaining chips.

The fact was, if Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t care about the lives of those two million people, he wouldn’t need to worry about the General’s threat at all. If he were ruthless enough, he could simply kill the General right here. With the North leaderless, they could naturally rescue the starving people trapped in the cities.

Seeming to sense the killing intent in Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes, the General remained nonchalant and continued calmly, “I guessed long ago that you would have such thoughts. But would I come here if I didn’t have a trump card? Since I’ve come, I’m not afraid of what you might do to me.”

He waved his hand, and the adjutant who followed him placed a file folder on the table.

Zhou Yuanqiang knew the man had leverage; otherwise, he couldn’t be this calm. Just like when he himself had entered the Tianjin Defense Line, wasn’t he relying on his own peerless strength? A man as shrewd as the General wouldn’t just walk into a trap unless he had a reason to be confident.

When Zhou Yuanqiang poured the contents of the folder out, he found over a dozen photographs. At first, he didn’t pay them much mind, but his face quickly went pale. He stared at the General, suddenly stood up, and shouted, “You lunatic! What the hell are you planning?”

“Chairman Zhou, I only want to take back what I’ve lost. Why get so worked up?”

The General tapped the table gently and spoke with a cold, emotionless voice, “If you want to kill me to solve the crisis, I can tell you quite responsibly that the consequences would be absolutely unbearable for you. You surely recognize the objects in those photos? If I don’t walk out of Tianjin tonight, they will be launched. They are aimed at Shanghai, Hangzhou, Guangzhou, Shenzhen, and even Lenghu and Chongqing. You should know the consequences.”

The photos showed the General standing on an open underground missile silo. The visible warhead was instantly recognizable as a Dongfeng land-based nuclear missile.

There were seventeen photos, each representing a land-based nuclear missile, as well as mobile nuclear missile launch systems. This meant the General had at least seventeen nuclear missiles in his possession, perhaps even more.

In the apocalypse, what Zhou Yuanqiang feared most was not the powerful zombies, but the terror-class weapons manufactured by humanity. The existence of nuclear weapons had always been a thorn in his side. In the entire apocalyptic continent, no one knew exactly how many nuclear weapons existed or where they were scattered. It was precisely because of this lack of information that Zhou Yuanqiang was afraid—what if someone obtained a batch of these weapons?

As the Commercial Association reclaimed more than half the continent, they too had acquired several dozen nuclear missiles.

Since being acquired, those destruction-class missiles had remained under Zhou Yuanqiang’s control. After reaching level 23 and expanding his storage space, he had moved all of them into his storage. With strategic-class weapons like the crystal high-pressure warheads, which had no radiation, he had something that, while not as powerful as a nuke, was safe and could be used like a conventional weapon.

Zhou Yuanqiang knew the North surely had nuclear weapons, but he hadn’t expected them to become the General’s leverage.

“What exactly do you want?”

One could imagine the consequences if seventeen nuclear missiles were launched. The major Commercial Association cities the General mentioned would be destroyed and leveled. With the shockwaves and radiation, the number of survivors in those cities would be negligible.

The Commercial Association’s military technology was advanced, but they hadn’t developed missile interceptors yet. If attacked, they could only watch helplessly as their cities were vaporized.

Regardless of the outcome, the rising Chinese nation would utterly collapse under this wave of nuclear strikes, and would be devoured to the bone by survivors from other rising nations. By then, the Commercial Association’s population of over ten million would be reduced to only one or two million.

The General’s face twisted slightly as he growled, “Don’t doubt the authenticity of the photos, and don’t doubt my ability to launch them. Before the apocalypse, I served as a division commander in the Second Artillery Corps, responsible for twenty nuclear missiles as a strategic task. My conditions are simple: Withdraw immediately from the North and guarantee you will not set foot here for ten years. Meanwhile, provide one year’s worth of grain and return those who fled.”

“That’s impossible.”

Zhou Yuanqiang said decisively, “I can agree to the other terms, but returning the people who have already entered our southern territory is absolutely out of the question.”

The General laughed. He stood up and said, “You are in no position to bargain. Think of the two million people struggling on the edge of death, and think of the consequences if these missiles are launched. If I were in your position, I would agree without hesitation. I’ll give you only three days. Once time is up, we’ll perish together—it’ll be the end of everything. Believe me, I am a madman.”

The General left with a triumphant look. The whole affair was less a negotiation and more a final ultimatum.

Even after the General’s helicopter left Tianjin, Zhou Yuanqiang remained sitting in the meeting room, stunned. Realizing how the situation had suddenly been reversed, Zhou Yuanqiang slammed his hand onto the table. The force was so great that the solid meeting table shattered into pieces. “This is outrageous! That lunatic… that damn lunatic!”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s chest heaved violently. He had thought he controlled everything, only to find that in his madness, the opponent could easily overturn the situation. His side, which should have held the advantage in negotiations, was now like a defeated party, forced to accept harsh and unyielding conditions.

But as things stood, did Zhou Yuanqiang have a choice?

Thinking of the three days the General had given him, Zhou Yuanqiang fell into another silence. Two million people had already been without food for two or three days; how could they wait another three? By then, half of them would have succumbed to hunger. In a sense, the time the General allowed was just a figure of speech. If he didn’t take immediate action, people would die of hunger every minute, or become someone else’s meal.

As a modern man—especially one who hadn’t undergone cold-blooded training—how could Zhou Yuanqiang let thousands of people starve to death when he had the ability to stop it?

War was essentially a struggle for power, and the common people were nothing but pitiful sacrifices. Throughout history, in every war, civilian deaths were often several times—even dozens of times—higher than those of soldiers. The consequence of war was broken families, entire villages becoming ghost towns, bones exposed for hundreds of kilometers, and nine out of ten houses being empty…

“They can be heartless because they have lost their humanity, but how can I be without honor?”

Zhou Yuanqiang walked out of the meeting room and said to the waiting Chen Jianliang, “Old Chen, don’t wait for three days. Immediately send out the transport airship fleet to rescue those cities and provide enough grain.” He then turned to look at Xu Yuhai and said coldly, “It’s time for your Owls to surface. Don’t let me down.”

Xu Yuhai gave a thin smile and said, “Don’t worry, Boss. Three years of lying low—wasn’t this the moment we were waiting for?”

Chapter 391: Listen

Barely half an hour after the General departed, massive transport airships took off from Tianjin. Fully loaded with grain, they flew toward Shenyang. These ships were responsible for delivering hundreds of tons of food to several cities still under the General’s control.

Publicly, this shipment of grain was framed as a purchase made by the General from the Yuanqiang Commercial Association.

Zhou Yuanqiang was somewhat disdainful of this. After the massacre, and under these circumstances, even the most slow-witted person could distinguish the truth of the matter. It was a classic case of playing the saint while acting the sinner. Still, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t want to get bogged down in such trivialities; he let the other party play their games however they wished.

Consequently, a few hours later, the transport airships arrived and unloaded enough grain to sustain the cities for a period of time.

Watching this farcical scene unfold, Wei Chenning—the General’s adjutant—could only offer a cold, endless sneer. He watched the silhouettes of the departing airships, specifically noting the rainbow umbrella logo. There was a tiny, specific alteration to the mark. Naturally, no one else would notice or care about such a small change, let alone understand what it represented.

But Wei Chenning knew. It was a signal—a call to the Owls.

In the military ranks of the mainland, there was no official role for an “adjutant.” However, the apocalypse had changed things; an adjutant was essentially like a Chief of Staff or Secretary-General, responsible for handling the General’s daily affairs. Many matters could be dealt with without even reporting to the General, granting the position immense power. Only major events required the General’s personal attention.

Wei Chenning had followed the General since the start of the apocalypse. No, to be precise, he had been with him since before the end of the world. He had followed him as he rose from Colonel to Major General, and then to a general with real administrative power. He had been there every step of the way, a truly trusted confidant.

And yet, Wei Chenning knew that a long, long time ago, he had been planted at the General’s side by political rivals to gather intelligence.

In the realm of family-style power struggles, Wei Chenning understood he was but a small player, caught in a whirlpool beyond his control. Furthermore, there was another reason he had truly become a pawn—something that might have been trivial to the General, but had destroyed Wei Chenning’s entire family.

When selecting an operative, hatred was the most reassuring trait; there was no need to worry about betrayal.

When the apocalypse arrived, Wei Chenning had considered assassinating the General. But then he thought of the hundreds of thousands of people who relied on the man. If the General died, the entire North would plunge into an even greater doom. For the sake of those hundreds of thousands, Wei Chenning had endured. He thought he would never have an opportunity again, but when someone approached him three years ago, he hadn’t hesitated for a second to become an Owl.

Wei Chenning understood the powerful rise of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association better than anyone. He saw its future, and that was precisely why he hadn’t hesitated.

Facts had proven his decision correct. The overwhelming strength of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was absolute; they were destined to be the masters of this land. This meant that after more than a decade of lurking, he could finally achieve his original goal.

Wei Chenning knew what the signal required. He had been keeping track of everything. He knew for a fact that the General possessed a total of thirty-three nuclear missiles. The images shown earlier only displayed seventeen. Anyone who hadn’t figured out the full picture would surely suffer a devastating loss.

The mission of an Owl would fulfill its purpose at this very moment.

By evening, a set of documents was silently spirited out of Shenyang and into the hands of Zhou Yuanqiang, who had been waiting just outside the city.

Looking at the data in his hands, Zhou Yuanqiang smiled. Although these nuclear missiles were still under the General’s control, now that their locations were known to him, what would the consequences be? Soon, the General’s trump card would no longer be able to protect him. When that time came, he wanted to see if the man would still be as calm as he was today.

The thirty-three nuclear missiles were highly dispersed. Some were in military bases, some deep in mountain forests, and others hidden in secret military bunkers.

According to the records, many locations were far beyond expectations. There was even a remote mountain village where the ground had been hollowed out to hide three nukes. Who could have guessed that several dozen humble households, living simple lives in a village, were actually living right on top of nuclear missiles? Such hidden locations would likely never be discovered by satellite.

Most of these thirty-three missiles were guarded by troops, while a smaller portion were designed for remote launch.

The intelligence from Wei Chenning was quite clear. When the General went to Tianjin, he had indeed prepared the nuclear missiles for launch. If he hadn’t returned, the preset launch sequences would have activated on time. He hadn’t been exaggerating with his threat.

Time was now of the essence for Zhou Yuanqiang. Upon receiving the data, he immediately boarded the Starry Sky, which was waiting nearby.

Dozens of kilometers ahead of Changchun, there was a small military base hidden within a mountain range. Towering trees concealed the base’s secrets. After nightfall, the area was silent, with only a few buildings emitting a faint glow.

The Starry Sky maintained a super-low-altitude flight. When it was about 10 kilometers away, it slowly descended to the ground.

Zhou Yuanqiang stood at the open hatch, impatient. Without a second’s hesitation, he sprinted down the road, charging toward the small military base. Two nuclear missiles were located here; they were among Zhou Yuanqiang’s twenty targets for the night.

Covering the three northeastern provinces in a single night was an absolute challenge even for him.

Without the Starry Sky, fighter jets wouldn’t be reliable for this, and helicopters were far too slow to make such a feat possible. Fortunately, based on the calculations, it wasn’t impossible. As long as Zhou Yuanqiang moved quickly, he could pull off this miraculous operation before dawn.

The nuclear missiles were like a sword of Damocles hanging over his head, forcing him to risk exposing his world-shaking abilities.

The 10-kilometer distance was mainly to avoid alerting the enemy. For Zhou Yuanqiang, sprinting down the road, it was hardly any distance at all; he could cover it in just a few minutes. While it might seem superhuman, Zhou Yuanqiang would say that when you possess seventy-one times the speed of an average human, it is difficult not to be a superhuman.

Sprinting through the dark, the cold wind felt like a blade scraping against him. More importantly, being so close to the Arctic Circle meant year-round snow, which did indeed make his speed significantly slower than usual.

When he reached the small military base, the spy satellites working through the night provided him with real-time data on more than half the facility. The rest was obscured by the giant trees and buildings.

But for Zhou Yuanqiang, this was enough.

With the data provided by Wei Chenning, it was easy for Zhou Yuanqiang to find the location of the two land-based nuclear missiles after slipping into the base. He didn’t need to open the silo covers or alert anyone. He simply placed his hand on the silo, and in an instant, the entire structure—including the missile—was moved into his storage space.

Under these circumstances, it was impossible not to alert the enemy. The moment the silo disappeared, the connected electronic equipment would lose connection and trigger alarms.

Everything was within Zhou Yuanqiang’s calculations. In several cities, a large number of jammers would render all communications useless. And Wei Chenning’s secondary role came into play once again; the General, who trusted him implicitly, had fallen into a deep sleep after drinking a glass of water. It had been spiked with a colorless, odorless sedative.

With Wei Chenning there, it was enough to stop anyone who wanted to disturb the General’s rest.

Once the two missiles were in his possession, Zhou Yuanqiang charged out of the small base without regard for anything else, calling for the Starry Sky to pick him up at top speed.

Like a spinning top, Zhou Yuanqiang raced across the three northeastern provinces.

Fearing that some unjammed areas might communicate with each other, Zhou Yuanqiang had pre-deployed most of his special forces. They would use special operations tactics to seize control of targets with fewer stationed soldiers. As long as they prevented the missiles from being launched, his goal would be achieved.

This was a race against time. After all, the jammers couldn’t keep the enemy unaware forever. Once they realized they couldn’t communicate, they would naturally investigate and discover the interference. The whole plan could collapse at any moment.

Just as Zhou Yuanqiang anticipated, such interference could not go unnoticed.

At the communication tower in Shenyang, Wei Chenning led a squad of soldiers to temporarily take over the facility. He announced to the public that the communication system was malfunctioning and could not be restored immediately. Repairs were underway and were expected to take five to seven hours to complete.

It was precisely because of Wei Chenning’s stellar reputation that he was able to dispel many people’s suspicions. Out of trust for him, essentially no one questioned the story.

By this point, Wei Chenning knew he had done all he could. Whether the plan achieved its ultimate goal was no longer within his control. He could say that he was now completely tied to the war machine of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association—it was success or death.

Thanks to the brilliant chess move of the Owls, they turned danger into safety at every turn.

Throughout the entire night, through the combined efforts of the special forces and Zhou Yuanqiang, all thirty-three nuclear missiles listed in the data were finally brought under control. At this point, the sword hanging over their heads was finally removed. Every member of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, who had been unable to catch their breath, finally sighed in relief.

Once it was confirmed that all thirty-three missiles were secured, Qiu Guorui and others at the command center cheered and embraced each other.

The entire operation had to be planned within a few hours and involved the deployment of a massive number of special forces. The coordination required between various departments while ensuring secrecy was incredibly difficult. It was undoubtedly the most stressful command mobilization in the Association’s history.

Fortunately, the mission was a success, and nothing unexpected occurred. Otherwise, if even a single nuclear missile had been launched, it would have meant the destruction of a city. Such a consequence was far beyond what the Association could bear, and everyone involved in the operation would have been left with a crippled conscience, unable to face the aftermath.

The sky gradually brightened. However, once communication was restored in Shenyang, chaos—utter chaos—ensued.

Even more terrifying was what the radar showed: a massive fleet of aircraft was swarming toward Shenyang. There were over 3,000 planes, along with two super aerial aircraft carrier battle groups.

“The Yuanqiang Commercial Association has launched a total offensive!”

Everyone realized the gravity of the situation as alarms blared everywhere. The soldiers under the General had no concept of what 3,000 aircraft truly meant; it meant that within ten-odd minutes, all of Shenyang would be leveled. The 100,000 soldiers stationed here would have no room to retaliate; it would be nothing short of a massacre.

As the news leaked, while the soldiers grew pale, the hundreds of thousands of civilians trapped in desperation broke into thunderous cheers. Although they had filled their bellies the night before, they felt no gratitude toward the General. The General they once knew was no longer the leader they respected. People ran into the streets looking up at the sky, many of them weeping.

Yes, they had every reason to be happy. They had once thought they would starve to death here, but now they saw the hope for survival. They believed the Yuanqiang Commercial Association would bring them new hope and help them escape this hell they would never forget for the rest of their lives.

In a military camp in Shenyang, a battalion commander stood up and shouted to his pale-faced soldiers, “Soldiers! Faced with such an undefeatable enemy, we could choose not to surrender. But I want to ask: what exactly are we fighting for? The General used to have an ideal—to reclaim our lost lands, rebuild a beautiful nation, and completely drive out the zombies. We used to be proud of the General, but now, I feel only shame.”

He pointed toward the center of Shenyang. “Over there, there are hundreds of thousands of our fellow citizens. A few days ago, the General personally ordered a crackdown, and tens of thousands died under the blade. I ask you, is this still the General we should defend with our loyalty? No! He is no longer our General. He is just a bloodthirsty madman who wants to destroy everything because he doesn’t want to lose his power!”

“His power actually comes from us—all of us. Since the General has lost sight of his original goal, what are we fighting for? Are we fighting for the General’s personal power? No, we are not a private militia! We must be responsible for ourselves now—responsible for our own lives!”

With this battalion commander taking the lead, the soldiers—knowing they could not defeat the Yuanqiang Commercial Association—staged an uprising.

Inside the massive camp, as many as 50,000 soldiers broke from the control of the officers in Shenyang within a single hour. The remaining 50,000 soldiers inside the city were even more panicked. Their morale was gone, and their confidence was shattered. If they hadn’t collapsed yet, it was only out of a lingering sense of military duty.

With Shenyang in total disarray, the General was naturally needed to take charge…

Wei Chenning led a squad of soldiers to “protect” the villa where the General resided. The guards inside were all disarmed. The entire villa fell under Wei Chenning’s control, and the soldiers surrounding the property were forces completely loyal to him—a force he had painstakingly cultivated for several years.

Outside, the world was in an uproar, but the villa remained peaceful.

Following his usual routine, Wei Chenning prepared everything for when the General woke up. Only then did he walk into the General’s bedroom. As he always did, he gently rang a bell on the General’s nightstand, producing a crisp “ding-ling” sound. Wei Chenning knew that upon hearing this bell, the General—who had slept soundly all night—would surely wake up.

Sure enough, after a few rings, the General woke. He clutched his slightly aching head and sat up in bed.

“What happened last night? Why did I feel so sleepy?” The General tapped his forehead and shook his aching head. “And why does my head hurt?”

Wei Chenning smiled and said, “General, yesterday I saw that you were far too tired, so I gave you a little sedative to help you rest better. This way, you would wake up full of energy and be better prepared for your work.”

The General paused. The events of the past few days had made him particularly prone to anger. His initially calm face suddenly flushed with rage as he roared, “Wei Chenning! Who gave you the authority to do that? You idiot, don’t you know this is a critical moment? We must make every second count!”

Wei Chenning’s smile suddenly vanished, replaced by a cold sneer. “General, I’m afraid that from now on, there isn’t much for you to do.”

The General’s expression changed instantly. He glared at Wei Chenning and said, “What kind of attitude is that?” He stood by the bed as if nothing was wrong, one hand quietly reaching toward a hidden compartment in the headboard. Wei Chenning didn’t stop him, saying calmly instead, “Are you looking for a gun, General? I threw it in the trash long ago. Actually, in this entire bedroom, I’m the only one with a weapon. It looks like you might need this?”

Wei Chenning pulled out a handgun and toyed with it in his hand. “I’ve followed you for over ten years, General. How could anything of yours be hidden from your most ‘loyal’ adjutant?”

As if enjoying the moment, Wei Chenning raised both hands in a welcoming gesture and said, “General, listen closely. What a wonderful sound. The sound of fighter jets in the sky, the cheers of the people, the terrified voices of the soldiers, and the desperate cries of the officers. Doesn’t it sound like birds chirping in the morning?”

“Unfortunately, General, بينما while the chirping in my ears is sweet, in your ears, it is the sound of your burial. I hope you can continue your dreams of power in hell.”

Chapter 392: World War III?

September was a month with plenty of reasons for celebration, for at this moment, history had veered onto a different path.

With the North integrated into their territory in August and millions migrating to the coastal cities of the South, a long-awaited event finally occurred. The mainland was no longer governed by various warring factions; only one power remained: the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. It now controlled every region of the continent, ruling over a population of more than seventeen million with an overwhelmingly powerful military force.

Every individual who had lost their country and home to the collapse finally found a renewed sense of faith in nation and home.

Standing in the former government office building in City S—now the headquarters of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association—Zhou Yuanqiang looked around the facility that had cost 1.4 billion to build. It often felt like a dream. This place, once known as an “ultra-five-star” office building, was somewhere a person of his former status could never have entered. Who could have imagined that in another timeline, he would become its master?

“Congratulations, you have completed a National Strategic Task. You have received a 1,000% experience reward. Your level has increased to 33!”

The crisp, clear chime of ten consecutive level-up notifications rang in his ears, sounding absolutely beautiful at this moment.

When he had launched the operation against the North, Zhou Yuanqiang had received this National Strategic Task. The blood-red “1,000% experience reward” had nearly taken his breath away. 1,000% experience meant ten levels. The reward was truly god-like.

As for the size of his storage space, Zhou Yuanqiang could no longer calculate it precisely. What he could confirm was that by using the overlapping storage method, it was large enough to hold all thirteen of the Americans’ aircraft carrier battle groups. It was like a vast, boundless world inside. His previous cargo—nuclear missiles, the Mountain of Gold and Sea of Silver, the countless gold and silver he had harvested, two tanks, three helicopters, and over a dozen supercars—only occupied a tiny corner of the space.

With as many as eleven active skills, Zhou Yuanqiang felt he had attained the status of a superhuman.

Level 33 represented a 99-fold increase in his abilities. His body had been reinforced to its limit, making him virtually identical to a superhero. Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t sure exactly how strong he had become, but he was certain of one thing: there was likely no one currently on Earth who could actually harm him.

These surprises regarding his reinforced state were not what excited him most, however. What truly thrilled him was that the Yuanqiang Commercial Association now held the entire continent in its grasp.

“The entire land is beneath my feet.”

Zhou Yuanqiang had reason to be proud. He had been in the apocalypse for four and a half years, and the apocalypse itself was now in its eighth year. The continent was no longer fragmented; it had returned to being a unified political entity. Perhaps calling it a “government” was a bit of an exaggeration, but the fact that the entire continent was managed by the Commercial Association was indisputable.

Standing behind him, Ren Xinyun straightened his clothes. She smiled and teased him, mimicking the tone of a reporter, “Respected Chairman, may I ask how you are feeling at this moment? Are you feeling particularly stirred? Do you have an immense sense of achievement?”

“Well, Reporter Ren, of course I do. As the creator of this historic moment, what reason do I have not to be happy?”

Zhou Yuanqiang’s answer made Ren Xinyun burst into laughter. “I remember your speech yesterday,” she said. “You said this historic moment was the result of the hard work of the soldiers and the people, and that they were the creators of history. How has it suddenly become you who is the creator?”

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind her teasing at all. He grabbed her, sliding his hand beneath her clothes to playfully squeeze her. “Reporter Ren, as a member under the rule of the Commercial Association, I think you should show some spirit of contribution. Use your tenderness to contain my fire.”

Once they finished playing around, Ren Xinyun said, “Alright, stop messing around here. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw us. You still have a lot of work to handle.”

It was true. With millions of people flooding into the South, they needed to be allocated to various cities. Their housing had to be scheduled, and they needed jobs and at least half a year’s worth of grain as a safety net. Furthermore, he had to identify outstanding talents among these millions and assign them to various research units based on their former professions.

These matters were extremely complex. They involved coordination across all departments, and critical issues required his personal signature for confirmation.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, the current mechanism existed largely because of the unique nature of the war; he felt it necessary to personally oversee things. Additionally, in the early days of the Commercial Association, all supplies were brought over by him from the modern era. To maintain secrecy, he had to keep all power firmly in his hands.

Zhou Yuanqiang had also considered that the Association had reached a stage where it should be capable of independent operation. It no longer needed him to bring over even a single item from the modern era, so there was no functional need to keep all the power for himself. As things stood, even for livelihood matters—logistics, supplies, and so on—his signature was required before important decisions took effect.

He thought about delegating power to the various Department Ministers, but whenever he considered the secrets he carried, he felt he had to maintain control.

His plan was to use the apocalypse as an armory and a secret talent base. With such a massive rear area, he could live a prospering life in the modern world. However, if he decentralized power—for example, if livelihood matters were no longer decided by him but by ministers or committee votes—how could he possibly hide the fact that he was bringing in massive quantities of goods?

In the military, wouldn’t the sudden appearance of tanks and fighter jets catch the attention of the defense department?

Given all this, Zhou Yuanqiang understood that he could not let go of power, at least not yet. There were only two scenarios where he could truly relax.

First, he could make his secret public so it was no longer a secret.

This would have benefits. He wouldn’t have to be so cautious and could do whatever he wanted. Since they would all know about his ability to travel through time and his various plans, bringing in supplies and weapons would be seen as a natural occurrence. He would only need to give them a manifest, and they would handle the delivery. He wouldn’t have to control the warehouses personally to smuggle items anymore.

In fact, Zhou Yuanqiang suspected in his heart that they must have already guessed his secret; no one had simply brought those suspicions into the open yet.

The second scenario was to wait until the modern Somalia plan succeeded. Once he no longer needed the support of the Apocalypse Commercial Association, delegating power to the departments wouldn’t affect him. The two timelines would operate independently and no longer interfere with each other.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang hesitated. Even if the modern Somalia plan succeeded, he wouldn’t be the one calling the shots in the modern world. There were many powerful nations there. Given Somalia’s situation, it would definitely still need support from the Commercial Association. What if they lacked supplies and didn’t have the money to buy them? What if other countries imposed an embargo on Somalia? In that case, he would have to rely on the apocalypse as his rear base.

The order of the old world had collapsed. While order had been re-established on the mainland, the rest of the world remained in a state of lawlessness. If they lacked something, they could simply go to another country and take it with a fist harder than their neighbor’s.

Zhou Yuanqiang felt absolutely no guilt about such prospects.

To be honest, his current mindset leaned more toward the first option. If his secret were no longer a burden, it wouldn’t be a reason for him to stay restrained. But he didn’t know how they would react if the secret was revealed. Would they treat him like a freak?

The Commercial Association was indeed in his grasp, but if the ministers revolted collectively, he wasn’t sure if he could handle the situation without things spiraling out of control.

“They likely suspect the secret. But it’s like the story of Lord Ye who claimed to love dragons but was terrified when a real one appeared; they might crave the power but be horrified by the reality of it. I need to use the ‘boil the frog’ approach—gradually influencing them until they are ready to accept it.”

Currently, within this continent, identifying threats was no longer an issue for the Commercial Association, but the crisis was far from over.

In the central-north and northeast regions, there were still hundreds of millions of zombies, many of them still entrenched in the cities. The northeast was slightly better, as the survivors had migrated south and were no longer threatened. However, the north still had a few small settlements struggling under the threat of the undead.

It seemed as though the Yuanqiang Commercial Association was far from the zombies and the virus, but in reality, the distance between them was very short.

Military operations to clear the zombies were conducted daily across the South, as some remained in deep forests or in neglected villages. To have a stable living space, they had to ensure that no zombies existed within human residential areas or within a certain distance of them.

The threat of viral infection via air was no longer a concern, but it could still spread through contact. This was not the time for carelessness.

On a higher level, even if the Commercial Association wiped out every zombie on the continent, the continent wasn’t the only place on Earth. Leaving aside other continents, how many zombies still existed in Asia alone?

As for other countries, previously everyone was too busy dealing with their internal zombie threats to worry about each other. But now that the mainland was basically unified and most of the zombies cleared, this previously ignored problem was now front and center for the Commercial Association.

Of the billions of people globally, there were at least one or two hundred million survivors scattered across their respective nations.

The apocalypse had been going on for a full eight years now.

How much could happen in eight years? How much could change?

Zhou Yuanqiang believed that people in other countries, much like those on his continent, were likely drowning in a sea of zombies, with nations falling and people struggling to survive. They would also have internal struggles and power grabs. They would have to face both the zombies and their fellow humans.

Wasn’t that how it started on the mainland? The survival space was compressed by zombies, and humans compressed each other’s space in turn. This situation had persisted until today. But who could guarantee that, in a world so large, some lucky fellow hadn’t ended their internal struggles early and established a new regime?

Human nature was always greedy. Initially, they might just want to survive, but it would evolve into wanting to stand above others, then to regime change, and finally to holding the world in their hands.

Perhaps, in places he didn’t know, a massive power was hidden. Perhaps a faction was swallowing its neighbors and growing stronger. Perhaps… yes, there were too many “perhapses.” In a world this big, anything was possible.

There might not be someone with his specific abilities, but Zhou Yuanqiang believed there were plenty of people with immense capability and luck.

In the apocalypse, the mainland had a huge advantage but also a huge disadvantage.

The advantage was the survival rate within its massive population. With over twenty million survivors remaining even after the attrition of the apocalypse, they had a major edge. In a world where population was the most important resource, a large number of survivors represented competitiveness, allowing one to go further and fly higher.

But the disadvantage lay in that very population. The massive population meant that there had been over a billion zombies in this region. It was a crushing weight that had nearly sent all of humanity on the continent into hell. In the face of such massive numbers of undead, the survivors had to struggle a dozen times harder than those in other countries to achieve a life like they had today.

After eight years of apocalypse, how many foreign powers might already be ahead of the Commercial Association?

If not for Zhou Yuanqiang’s appearance, which ended the internal conflicts early, it would have likely taken another five years to unify. In those five years, new governments formed by survivors in other countries would have left the mainland far behind, much like during the Ming and Qing dynasties when the country lost its chance to catch up and fell behind the rest of the world.

To fall behind was to be bullied. With the advent of crystal energy and the merging of technologies during the apocalypse, technological development was progressing rapidly. If they didn’t hurry, they would become nothing more than a piece of fat in the eyes of other powers. Those powers would divide the continent’s interests just like in history, turning the survivors into their labor tools.

Thinking of massive populations, Zhou Yuanqiang felt a bit of pity for their neighbors in India. With a population base close to the mainland’s and a poor economy, who knew how long they would have to struggle before finding relief?

However, he would not ignore this neighbor. Previously, India was poor, yes, but it was a military heavy-hitter. Their national revenue was prioritized for military use. This led to a distorted national situation: a backward domestic economy paired with a powerful military force.

They were equipped with advanced weapons from technological superpowers and had invested huge sums in missile technology in an attempt to catch up to the mainland.

Domestically, their software industry was world-renowned, but even more people lived in poverty. Their streets were filled with three-wheeled rickshaws acting as taxis, and vast areas were covered in tent cities. People lived out of tents right on the sidewalks. A huge portion of the population barely achieved subsistence, and many struggled on the edge of starvation.

However, all of that was in the past. The apocalypse was like a cleanser, wiping everything away. Every regime essentially had to start from scratch.

India’s gold had unfortunately been plundered during the colonial era, leaving little behind. But in Zhou Yuanqiang’s eyes, modern-day India was undoubtedly still filled with gold. In the apocalypse, population was gold. India’s massive population base meant there would be a massive number of survivors.

Zhou Yuanqiang had never had a high opinion of his Indian neighbors. He remembered the border disputes in Tibet and the subsequent conflicts. Even after being beaten back, they hadn’t given up and continued to cause trouble over the Tibet issue. Even if they had the support of the British, Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t going to have a good opinion of a lackey.

Since population was gold, and there were at least twenty million “gold bars” sitting at his doorstep, why wouldn’t he be interested?

India was like a land of gold from the colonial era. In this apocalypse where people were the currency, controlling more people meant having enough gold to influence the direction of the world economy. And if population was the gold of the economy… then it was also the gold of political trends.

Perhaps India had already unified, or perhaps it was still embroiled in internal strife and the battle against the zombies.

Regardless, other countries might be beyond his reach, but since he had the advantage of geographic proximity, how could he pass this up? To survive in the upcoming round of national-level struggles, strengthening himself was essential. Not just in terms of population, but in technology as well.

Perhaps the era following the apocalypse could be called the Third World War.

With the collapse of the world order and no superpower constraints, one could easily imagine what it would be like. Nations wouldn’t need a reason to mobilize their armies; it would be a purely primitive, brutal affair. They would destroy everything and plunder populations into slavery until the political situation reached a new global balance. Only then would this Third World War end.

Thinking of this, Zhou Yuanqiang suddenly felt that the apocalypse hadn’t really gone away. What had passed was merely the apocalypse of the zombies; the war-torn apocalypse belonging to humanity was only just beginning to rear its head. Once the zombies were eliminated, this Third World War would commence, and the human apocalyptic war would fully erupt.

When that happened, who would be among the forest of emerging superpowers?

Chapter 393: The Hunters

“Looking for master auto mechanics. Our team offers excellent profit sharing.”

“Urgent need for heavy gunners. I know the ideal hunting grounds; guaranteed high returns.”

“Former special forces veteran, proficient in all types of firearms, trained in jungle survival. Seeking a well-equipped team with strong teamwork.”

“Treasure hunting team urgently recruiting powerful fighters. Interested parties call XXX…”

Hearing this, you might think you were living in a video game world. But the reality was that this was Nanjing, one of the fifteen human settlements under the Yuanqiang Commercial Association. Among the fifteen cities, its attractiveness was ranked seventh.

However, since the emergence of a new profession, Nanjing’s popularity ranking suddenly jumped to fourth, surpassed only by the top three: Shanghai, Shenzhen, and Beijing.

In the area around Zhonghua Gate in the Yuhua New Village neighborhood, the subway station exit had become a temporary gathering place for these hunters. Every day, thousands of people congregated here, searching for squads or teams to join the latest round of exploration and adventure.

Following the Exploration Department’s activities a few years ago, the Airship Factory had ceased the production of exploration airships due to the expansion of controlled territories. They had pivoted toward the higher demand for transport airships. This was especially true now that the coastal areas across the mainland were being incorporated into residential zones; the development of transport airships as a primary means of travel was accelerating rapidly.

As the currency stabilized, the Commercial Association decentralized certain corporate rights. Airship manufacturing no longer relied solely on the Commercial Association’s direct resources; instead, orders were placed with various enterprises under the Association’s rule to speed up economic recovery.

The benefit was that it truly helped a large number of businesses. The downside was that the price of exploration airships suddenly surged to nearly ten times what it once was. Even the smallest model cost over 30,000 Seven-Colored Currency, which represented five years of income for an average family.

Exploration airships were designed purely from an investigative standpoint. For true adventures, their crew capacity was limited and their cargo capacity was insufficient. They weren’t practical for the burgeoning hunter profession, so they were naturally abandoned in favor of other options.

The price of a transport airship was even more staggering. A cost of hundreds of thousands of Seven-Colored Currency was not something an average team could afford. While they were suitable for hunters, the exorbitant price left them feeling as helpless as modern working-class people gazing at a BMW or Mercedes-Benz.

At this point, ground vehicles naturally caught everyone’s eye.

Within the Commercial Association’s territory, cars cost almost nothing to acquire. All you had to pay for was the fuel. If you had the skill, you could find a sports car, have someone help you pick the lock, take it to the Association’s Transport Department to register a new license plate, and it was yours.

In the Association, cars with old license plates were considered ownerless; you could use them at will. But once a car was fitted with a new Commercial Association plate, it became private property. If you dared to target it, the new police department would ensure that the Association’s prison food became a memory you’d never forget.

Because cars were essentially free in the Commercial Association, they were naturally the favorite transportation for hunters.

The convenience of cars was unparalleled, especially since they were scattered across every city. If a car broke down, parts could easily be scavenged from abandoned vehicles along the roadside.

The emergence of the “Hunter” profession was both accidental and inevitable.

With the establishment of the fifteen residential cities, the population was distributed based on applications, with the Commercial Association making the final decisions on who went where. Once people settled down, urban order was restored, and the economy began to recover. People who were once penniless gradually found themselves with surplus money, and naturally, new demands arose.

For example, people who used to live in Qingyuan City missed things unique to their hometown. Ethnic minorities had traditions and customs that required specific items or local specialties.

The vast majority of the Commercial Association’s population consisted of people from the inland, with a smaller portion from the coast.

After being redistributed to various coastal cities, their living conditions improved, their standard of living rose, and everyone had cars, housing, and savings. They no longer had to worry about the threat of zombies and were far from the grips of hunger.

However, everyone feels a sense of nostalgia; they miss their homes.

With money in their pockets, they began to seek out these things, which created a market. Where there is a market, there are people to chase it. Thus, people appeared who searched for specialty goods and the hidden wealth of various cities. Initially, they operated in cities near the coast, but gradually, they penetrated deeper inland.

By today, this industry had developed into a new profession.

The Commercial Association could not stop the emergence of this new trade. They could only guide it as quickly as possible by establishing temporary management departments to standardize the profession. Much like they did with the Zombie Hunters, they provided assistance within the bounds of the system.

It was the Association’s temporary management department that made the difference. Now that the profession was legitimate and sanctioned, it attracted even more of the idle labor force. Those who had struggled through the apocalypse had experienced life and death; they certainly did not lack courage.

In truth, after the migration to the fifteen residential cities, the Commercial Association faced a surplus of labor. A large number of people were unemployed because factories had reached saturation, which posed a security risk to the Association.

The appearance of the hunter profession provided the Commercial Association with a perfect way to solve the employment problem. Naturally, the profession—risky as it was, much like the Zombie Hunters—received the Association’s support.

It was no exaggeration to say that hunting was a profession that drove people mad with greed because it could make someone rich overnight.

Rumors spread constantly: someone used a gap in a zombie-guarded city to scavenge a jewelry store, and a massive amount of gold was bought back by the Association, earning them hundreds of thousands of Seven-Colored Currency.

Someone found rare metals and earned over a hundred thousand Seven-Colored Currency.

Someone else…

It seemed as if these legends were easy to replicate because every city saw such madness daily. People were stimulated by what they heard or saw with their own eyes and threw themselves into the frenzy.

Everyone dreamed that they, too, would become part of a legend.

Yes, that was the charm of being a hunter. You could play it safe and easily obtain specialty items, like local fruits, or you could embrace the spirit of adventure and go to desolate, zombie-infested areas to find un-looted towns and discover staggering wealth.

As the leader of a newly formed team, Wang Chengye had come driven by a thirst for wealth.

His luck was good. For a newcomer, being able to organize a team of twenty-seven vehicles was no small feat. For hunters, teams usually ranged from a few people to dozens or even a hundred.

The Commercial Association’s temporary management department stipulated that the maximum limit for a hunter team was one hundred people. This was mainly to prevent the formation of private militias and to stop large groups from getting overconfident and attacking county seats or major towns, which could lead to mass casualties.

Although being a hunter was dangerous, the Association had a responsibility to minimize the loss of life.

The twenty-seven cars held exactly one hundred people, the maximum allowed by the regulations. They started from the Pukou District in Nanjing, took National Highway 124 south to the Ning-Lian Expressway, reached Yongning Town in about fifteen minutes, and then turned onto National Highway 331, heading toward Chuzhou City.

Reaching Chuzhou City was only the beginning. Their final destination was Bozhou, following National Highway 311 and transferring to National Highway 307.

Places like Bengbu City, which were relatively close to Nanjing, had already been picked clean by others. There was no way there would be anything left for Wang Chengye and his team. Therefore, they had to go further afield to “virgin lands” that hadn’t been picked over. Only there was the harvest large and the hidden wealth still available.

“Gold in chaotic times, antiques in prosperous times.”

Unfortunately, this was the apocalypse, an era far more terrifying than any mere chaotic time. Gold had reclaimed its status as a vital asset, but antiques were treated like common trash. No one was interested in spending effort to collect “junk.”

Only a few people with long-term vision would collect antiques that truly had historical value. In their view, the apocalypse would eventually end; it was just a matter of time. If they held onto these antiques, their value would eventually be magnified infinitely, surpassing the value of gold.

However, this kind of foresight held little interest for the people of the apocalypse who favored practicalities.

Of course, no one knew that the largest antique purchasing station in the Commercial Association was actually run by Zhou Yuanqiang. How could Zhou Yuanqiang pass up something that could easily yield tens, hundreds, or even thousands of times more profit? It was just that his profit was intended for the modern world, not the apocalypse.

Wang Chengye and his group bypassed Chuzhou City and stopped for breakfast by the reservoir on the west side of the city.

In addition to people, the line of vehicles carried a lot of supplies. Outdoor tents, cooking utensils, and the like were all accounted for. With the clear water from the reservoir and dry wood from the surrounding forests, a meal was easy to prepare.

Eating this unique breakfast made Wang Chengye very happy. For someone who had lived in the city for several months, this was a rare experience. If it weren’t for the zombies, a self-drive trip with the family for a picnic would have been a wonderful thing.

Things like picnics and road trips were beyond Wang Chengye’s imagination in the past; owning a car had been a distant dream.

But things were different now. To him, a car was essentially just a pile of mobile scrap. If you were willing to put in the effort, finding a sports car that was once worth millions was not impossible. Once you put on a new Commercial Association plate, it belonged to you.

The apocalypse was an era of opportunity everywhere; as long as you were willing to work hard, anything was possible.

Sometimes Wang Chengye felt a bit dazed, unsure whether he hated the apocalypse or liked it. Since the appearance of the Yuanqiang Commercial Association, the apocalypse seemed less terrifying. No matter what difficulties they faced, the wise and powerful Chairman always led the Association through the storm.

Life now was even better than before the apocalypse arrived.

The insane real estate market was a total joke in the apocalypse; it was a dead industry. For example, in Nanjing, millions once lived there, but now there were only about one million. Empty houses were everywhere. People living there wouldn’t even consider moving into a place if it wasn’t a high-end gated community.

Another industry that had vanished was automobile manufacturing. With countless cars lying around, who would expect anyone to buy an expensive new car? What replaced manufacturing was the booming car repair industry.

As for how many industries had disappeared, Wang Chengye was certain that of the original “360 trades,” barely half remained today.

After breakfast, the team continued their journey, this time aiming straight for Bozhou.

National Highway 311 had not been cleared since leaving Chuzhou City, mainly because the Commercial Association’s security perimeter ended there. Any area beyond that was subject to zombie attacks at any time, requiring constant vigilance.

The situation was indeed as expected. Less than thirty kilometers from Chuzhou, as they passed a small town, a large number of zombies were unexpectedly blocking the highway. Hearing the sound of the approaching cars from a distance, the zombies lunged toward the convoy.

This group numbered about a thousand. They were likely a pack that had been drawn to the road by previous convoys and then left behind. It was simply Wang Chengye’s bad luck to run into them while they were stranded on the highway.

“Battle stations!”

With a simple command, several modified trucks blocked the highway. The thirty people designated as the first wave of attack stood on the trucks. Facing the charging zombies, they let out a series of rhythmic shots.

Everyone who became a hunter had extensive combat experience. When dealing with zombies, strafing was meaningless; only precision firing achieved the best results with minimal waste.

A thousand zombies meant each person in the team needed to kill more than ten.

Having seen large-scale zombie swarms, the group was unbothered by a mere thousand. Wang Chengye even found himself chatting and laughing with his team members, puffing on cigarettes and pointing at the zombies, occasionally bursting into laughter. Theoretically, with thirty members and a sufficient supply of ammunition, blocking a thousand zombies was simple.

The hunters were all equipped with Type 81 rifles, the automatic rifles that had been phased out by the military. They were still in use primarily because the Commercial Association still had hundreds of millions of rounds of that caliber in stock.

Killing thirty-three zombies per person wasn’t a difficult task.

In just half an hour, the thousand zombies were taken out, and the highway was covered with corpses. Several team members put on gloves, pulled out daggers, and moved through the bodies to dig out the crystals. As the saying goes, even mosquito legs are still meat. The level one and two crystals from a thousand zombies could still be exchanged for a decent sum; there was no reason to leave them behind.

Once the harvesting was finished, they moved enough bodies to clear a lane for the vehicles. Although they wanted to throw the bodies off the road, their energy and time were limited. They could only leave them to bake in the scorching sun until they eventually became mummified husks.

Having handled everything, the convoy set off again.

For the rest of the journey, they occasionally saw wandering zombies, but the speed of the convoy left them far behind. They didn’t encounter any more large-scale attacks and arrived smoothly at Nineteen Li Town, south of Bozhou.

When they reached Nineteen Li Town, the whole team cheered. The town was still filled with large numbers of zombies, and the way they wandered about made it clear they hadn’t been disturbed. This proved the team’s initial judgment was correct: this was still a “virgin land” with visible wealth waiting for them.

After the cheers, the team didn’t disturb the zombies in Nineteen Li Town. Instead, they retreated to a nearby hill and set up camp. They would spend the night there, conduct reconnaissance on Bozhou the next day, and act on the third day.

If things went smoothly, they might return to Nanjing on the fourth or fifth day.

Of course, that was the ideal scenario. If things didn’t go well, they might stay much longer. It wasn’t easy to make the trip out here; they couldn’t just go back empty-handed.

Bozhou was a secondary city, and its local specialties weren’t particularly famous. The main reason for choosing it was that Bozhou had very few survivors, and the demand for its goods wasn’t high. While some people might like them, the market was small, making it less valuable than other targets.

The campsite was on open ground, allowing them to monitor the movement of the zombies in Nineteen Li Town.

Thanks to the Commercial Association’s increasingly diverse food supplies, items like instant noodles had reappeared, and the supply of meat, including ham sausages, had increased on the market. Being near the coast, how could they lack seafood? The fishing fleets established by the Association continuously provided large amounts of seafood to the major cities, making it one of the Association’s most important staples.

Therefore, the provisions the hunters brought included many dry goods and plenty of canned food. With a sufficient supply of grain, a hearty dinner was unavoidable. In such a high-risk profession, hunters always knew how to enjoy themselves; they certainly wouldn’t mistreat their own stomachs.

After dinner, except for those on guard duty, everyone crawled into their tents. Under the glow of tactical lights, they had their own entertainment—playing handheld games, listening to music… It wasn’t like before when everything was scarce.

Naturally, Wang Chengye couldn’t join them. As the captain, he had a lot of work to do. He needed to plan tomorrow’s itinerary and assign tasks based on each member’s abilities.

One whole day would be enough for a secondary city like Bozhou.

Now, what Wang Chengye needed to consider was how to make the team more cohesive and how to get these partners, who had only been together for two days, to follow his orders. For the upcoming hunt, a team’s unity determined how far they could go and how much combat power they could muster.

Events where teams were wiped out by zombies due to internal conflicts were still common. Wang Chengye didn’t dare to be careless.

Chapter 394: Xiao Shao

A yacht cruised along the offshore waters, drawing closer to the coastline. This once-luxurious private vessel had sat abandoned at the port docks for eight years without anyone claiming it. As a result, its hull had become weathered and dull, encrusted with small marine algae, losing every bit of its former luster.

The entire yacht had undergone only rudimentary repairs—just enough to keep it afloat and functional—as it served as the transport for a thirty-person team.

Standing on the deck, Cen Kelin’s expression was cold and ruthless. For this hunt, he had gambled his entire fortune. First, he had registered a team with the Hunting Department of the Commercial Association, and then he had spent a small fortune to recruit twenty elite warriors. By the time the yacht was repaired, the money Cen Kelin had left was only enough to sustain the team’s supplies for a single month.

Being a hunter was a high-risk profession where one could easily lose their life.

As hunters operating outside domestic borders, the danger was even greater, and their safety was far from guaranteed. Cen Kelin had been a risk-taker his entire life. When he graduated from university, he didn’t follow the path of most graduates who sought steady jobs to accumulate experience; instead, he relied on his adventurous spirit to dive straight into the business world. Two years later, having accumulated some capital, he took advantage of a surging stock market and decisively dove into those deep waters, earning hundreds of times his initial investment.

During the apocalypse, it was this same spirit of adventure that allowed him to survive until today and gain the capability to organize his own team.

This team was entirely personal, unlike other hunters who formed partnerships or only hired one or two people. The entire team consisted of thirty people: twenty warriors and ten support personnel. They were all employees he had paid for and officially notarized at the Hunting Department.

A team like Wang Chengye’s only operated internally, hunting within the country. In Cen Kelin’s view, many domestic locations had long been picked clean of opportunities. Only abroad would there be massive opportunities to rake in enough wealth to last several lifetimes.

Fearing the existence of large marine zombies in the deep sea and wanting to avoid heavy storms, the yacht naturally sailed along the coast. It was safer and reduced the risk of losing their way. Although they had departed from Shenzhen, as long as they followed the coastline south, they could reach the first stop in their plan.

Being a luxury yacht, its original configuration was naturally extravagant. Though eight years had passed and some parts were damaged, it didn’t stop everyone from admiring the vessel. In terms of power, it could maintain a speed of 35 knots with a draft of only 1.5 meters, allowing it to dock almost anywhere.

Sailing along the coast allowed them to appreciate the charm of the coastal cities and scenery.

The Commercial Association’s management of ships was not as hands-off as their management of cars. To own a ship, one had to apply and receive approval. Every city maintained twenty massive tankers. These tankers had been modified to hold fifty to seventy thousand people in cramped conditions. They were stationed in the cities as a precaution, intended for emergency evacuations.

The number of people in the Commercial Association who could obtain a license for a luxury yacht like this was very small—only a select few.

The yacht departed from Shenzhen in the morning and arrived in Haikou, where they stayed for one night. They set off again early the next morning, passing through Beihai and Fangchenggang. After nightfall, they appeared at the docks of Dongxing, a second-tier city. A company of Commercial Association soldiers was stationed here, but there were no residents. This was essentially the border defense force of the Commercial Association.

In Cen Kelin’s view, this company of soldiers served more as a lookout to prevent the “Vietnamese monkeys” from crossing over from the border once they left Chinese territory.

The soldiers in Dongxing rotated once a month. Aside from seeing new faces during rotations, they wouldn’t see another soul for the rest of the month. The company commander, who was the highest official here, was naturally delighted by Cen Kelin’s arrival. He brought out his best grain to entertain them and arranged for the entire team to stay in a three-star hotel.

The next day, Cen Kelin, who was burning through a massive amount of employment fees every day, naturally dared not linger. After gratefully accepting some ammunition gifted by the company commander, they continued south. Within half an hour, they officially entered Vietnamese territorial waters, spotting the mountains and forests along the coastline.

At noon, the yacht arrived at the city of Haiphong.

Haiphong was the first stop in Cen Kelin’s plan. As they drew near and he looked upon this modestly sized city, Cen Kelin’s heart surged with excitement. He was about to fulfill a long-held dream: to personally teach the Vietnamese a lesson and show them exactly “why the flowers are so red.”

Thinking back to the series of provocations in the South China Sea, although Cen Kelin wasn’t a radical nationalist, he was still Chinese and held no goodwill toward these ungrateful wretches.

Now, while it might not be the most heroic deed, he was stepping onto a foreign land where he could burn, kill, and pillage at will. Anyone in his position would find it hard to stay calm. To put it another way, this was damn satisfying and thrilling.

Sailing along the river north of Haiphong toward the city center, they didn’t even need binoculars to see scattered zombies appearing along the riverbanks.

“Yes!”

The moment Cen Kelin saw these scattered zombies, he clenched his fist tightly and pumped it in the air. With his wealth of experience, he understood exactly what these scattered zombies meant. It meant that Haiphong was still untouched territory. No one had set foot here yet, and the zombies were still in their original, undisturbed state.

Cen Kelin had been anxious during the trip. He had no idea what the situation in Vietnam was like—whether the Vietnamese had reclaimed their fallen cities from the zombies or if they had achieved a feat like the Commercial Association and unified their surviving population.

Seeing this, he finally felt a sense of relief. At least he didn’t have to worry about coming all this way for nothing.

By now, everyone on the yacht had come up to the deck. Since everyone brought their own weapons, the gear was a bit of a disorganized mix. Fortunately, Cen Kelin had been selective when recruiting, so the team consisted of snipers, assault troops, machine gunners, and medics, forming a twenty-man combat unit.

Finding a spot along the river where there were no zombies, the yacht pulled up to the bank, and Cen Kelin was the first to jump off.

Including Cen Kelin, twenty-six people disembarked. The four remaining crew members piloted the yacht away from the shore to anchor in the middle of the river, where they would wait for the scouting party to return. Haiphong’s population wasn’t small; it was impossible to charge in with only twenty-six people.

Of the combat group, most stayed behind to construct temporary defensive works along the riverbank, while Cen Kelin took five men to sneak toward the nearby city.

“Xiao Shao!”

Cen Kelin called out. This Xiao Shao was one of the support personnel, recruited specifically as an auto mechanic. He was about 1.7 meters tall, lean but sturdy. Cen Kelin didn’t think he’d be much of a fighter, but his expertise in vehicle repair was the reason he was on the team.

Of course, Cen Kelin had no way of knowing Xiao Shao’s true identity. Under his clever disguise, no one could tell that he was actually Zhou Yuanqiang.

Since the Commercial Association had unified all the settlements, Zhou Yuanqiang had maintained an extremely low profile, dedicating himself to the administration of the Association and rarely appearing in public. It could be said that with Zhou Yuanqiang’s presence, the efficiency of the entire Commercial Association had improved significantly, allowing the coastal areas to enter a period of rapid development.

Of course, the “development” mentioned wasn’t economic, but rather the conversion of numerous enterprises into military industries.

His appearance in Cen Kelin’s team was merely a whim. It wasn’t a Ring Task, nor was it a scouting mission. It was more about clearing his head, getting out to see the world, and wandering around. One had to understand that Zhou Yuanqiang had been buried under piles of Commercial Association documents for two full months.

Hearing Cen Kelin’s call, Zhou Yuanqiang stepped out of the line and ran over to several cars parked nearby. After a quick inspection, he said, “Boss Cen, only two of these are usable. The others probably can’t be fixed.”

Cen Kelin looked over and asked, “How long will it take to fix them?”

Zhou Yuanqiang scratched his head and said, “One will take half an hour. Two will take at least an hour and a half.”

“Alright, stay here and fix the cars.” Cen Kelin led the others forward. They were very close to the Haiphong urban area, and they couldn’t use cars for scouting. Humans had already learned just how sensitive zombies could be.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t mind. He took out his tools and began working on one of the cars.

With Zhou Yuanqiang’s mechanical skills, he was only average, but it was enough to fix these cars that didn’t have major issues. These vehicles had been parked here since before the apocalypse. When the Vietnamese fled, they likely didn’t head toward the river—or rather, no one had bothered with these cars. They had been left here for eight years, unused for so long that they wouldn’t start, and their parts were rusted.

After identifying the problems, he salvaged parts from other cars to make repairs. It took him an hour to get two of the least-rusted cars running.

He ran back to the temporary defensive works by the river, fetched a jerry can of gasoline, and gave each car a half-tank. That should be enough to travel a hundred kilometers or so; any more would be a waste. Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t start the engines immediately. Instead, he packed his tools, sat on the roof of one of the cars, and looked out into the distance.

Cen Kelin scouted for over an hour, carefully bypassing zombies and using binoculars from high vantage points to confirm valuable targets.

By the time they retreated, Cen Kelin’s face was still expressionless. He patted one of the cars and asked, “Are they ready?”

Zhou Yuanqiang smiled and said, “Of course. Gotta earn that paycheck, right?”

Building simple defensive works wasn’t difficult; they used discarded junk and materials from nearby houses.

Cen Kelin gathered everyone on the sandy bank of the river and sketched the terrain he had scouted. Pointing to a target, he said, “Haiphong itself doesn’t have much value. Our target is right here: a jewelry mall that is the only place with a significant amount of gold. To get there, we need to pass through three streets.”

Seeing that everyone was listening, Cen Kelin laid out his plan: “With our strength, we can’t fight our way through the whole way. We have to use the zombies’ sensitivity to lure them away. This requires someone to act as bait. Of course, the Code of Law of the Commercial Association dictates that everyone has freedom, and anyone can refuse. But I will say this: the bonus for the bait is 3,000 yuan.”

Before the apocalypse, 3,000 yuan was nothing. But 3,000 yuan from the Apocalypse Commercial Association was equivalent to 50,000 or 60,000 before the world ended—a very tempting sum.

“Actually, the bait’s task is just to drive the car through this street, then turn right at this intersection and head straight back here to the river. Our yacht will be waiting here. Once you’re back, the task is finished. There shouldn’t be too much danger to your life.”

As Cen Kelin said, there was danger, but it wasn’t insurmountable.

Zhou Yuanqiang even suspected that even if the plan succeeded and they looted the jewelry mall, the gold and jewelry they’d get would probably be worth around 10,000 to 20,000 Rainbow Coins. After expenses, the profit would only be 5,000. After paying a 3,000 yuan bonus, Cen Kelin would only make about 2,000 yuan. He wasn’t actually making much profit.

The person who took the bait mission was Li Canming, an assault trooper with very agile movements.

After setting the tasks, Cen Kelin didn’t wait until the next day. He checked the time and said, “Everyone, although I keep all the profits besides the bonuses, I want to say this: as long as we make it back safely this time, I will distribute 30% of the profits as a reward for the whole team. I hope everyone gives it their all.”

Who among those recruited wasn’t here for the money? Hearing Cen Kelin’s words, morale instantly soared.

The plan was for the bait to lure the zombies away, after which Cen Kelin would lead the team in the other car to strike the jewelry mall. The entire operation was expected to take half an hour. This half-hour was the maximum amount of time Cen Kelin calculated the team’s coordinated firepower could hold back the zombies.

Li Canming started the car and tested it; the performance was decent. He nodded to Cen Kelin and slammed his foot off the clutch. The car shot forward like a wild horse, kicking up a massive cloud of dust. A Chinese song blared loudly from the car’s speakers, causing all the nearby zombies to freeze for a moment before charging recklessly toward the sound.

“Damn it, you Vietnamese monkeys, you ungrateful wretches! Come on! Come and bite your grandpa!”

Li Canming shouted at the top of his lungs from the car, slamming into a zombie in his path and sending it flying several meters. The impact crumpled the front of the car and sent flakes of rust flying. Driven by the adrenaline, Li Canming became even more frenzied, flooring the accelerator as he sped into the streets.

A massive swarm of zombies spotted the prey that was Li Canming and began chasing the car.

Seeing the zombies gradually moving away, Cen Kelin waved his hand. The other car roared to life, and several machine gunners jumped on, setting up their weapons as they charged toward their target area. Zhou Yuanqiang, who was originally supposed to stay at the rear, insisted on tagging along. Cen Kelin had no choice but to hand him a pistol.

In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, Cen Kelin’s method wasn’t wrong, but there were many things he had overlooked. For instance, he hadn’t accounted for high-level zombies or Special Infected, and thus had no emergency measures. If such a threat appeared, casualties would be unavoidable, and a total team wipe wasn’t impossible.

The reason Zhou Yuanqiang followed was to step in just in case such a situation arose…

The zombies chasing Li Canming were only the majority; some remained because they couldn’t keep up. Suddenly seeing another group of humans, these zombies paused briefly before baring their hideous faces and swarming toward Cen Kelin and his group.

Cen Kelin calmly raised his gun and fired a single shot, blowing apart the head of the lead zombie. In the blink of an eye, he fired five or six more shots.

Everyone else had been surviving since the start of the apocalypse; every one of them was an excellent marksman and felt no burden when facing zombies. To them, the creatures’ hideous faces were something to be ignored. No one would hesitate to kill a zombie; they were no longer human, but monsters.

A burst of gunfire rang out, and the charging zombies were cut down one by one, soon littering the street in a layer of corpses.

The car roared as it charged through the zombies on the street. Utilizing its momentum, the engine let out a low growl as the car transformed into a steel beast, ramming its way through the sparse crowd. It was no different from plowing a field; zombies were constantly knocked down and crushed under the wheels.

The machine gunners on the car fired in short, precise bursts rather than strafing, conserving their ammunition.

Zhou Yuanqiang only had twelve rounds in his pistol. He didn’t fire blindly. He ran behind the car, only firing when he saw a moment of danger, picking off the most threatening zombies with precise shots. With his 99-fold ability enhancement, he didn’t even have to worry about missing.

The journey was relatively smooth. Led by the car, they reached the jewelry mall in seven or eight minutes.

Cen Kelin jumped off the car and roared, “Machine gunners, defend this position! Everyone else, follow me inside! Move, move fast!” He charged forward, kicked a zombie to the ground, and finished it with a shot to the head before rushing inside.

Seeing that it was time to collect the harvest, everyone followed Cen Kelin, looking like they had been injected with a stimulant.

Exactly like a pack of robbers, they rushed into the jewelry mall like a gale. Like a flash of lightning, they smashed the glass counters with their rifle butts and swept the gold and jewelry inside into cloth bags. If they had been wearing masks and black stockings, with a few panicked bystanders acting as extras, this would have been a perfect robbery.

Zhou Yuanqiang even considered that since he now had experience, maybe he should head to modern-day Vietnam and pull one off personally.

But as soon as he imagined himself wearing a mask and black stockings, a wave of disgust washed over him. He figured he could blame Hong Kong crime movies for that; they had poisoned his imagination for the sake of comedy and drama. Who would actually wear that kind of thing during a real robbery?

Chapter 395: The Lamppost

“God, this is fucking exhilarating!”

Even though this was happening in the apocalypse, just imagining such a high-octane scene—holding a gun, swinging it to shatter a glass counter with a resounding crash, then reaching in to grab handfuls of gold jewelry—the feeling was… tsk tsk, it was the absolute peak of excitement.

Every man has a dream of being an unstoppable force, a one-man army. In times of peace, such dreams are merely fantasies. But in a chaotic world, in the apocalypse, they are no longer just dreams.

The apocalypse evolved from a civilized world, so people’s dreams were still influenced by the old one. Killing wasn’t just about adrenaline; it was cold and harsh. However, actions like robbing jewelry stores or banks—influenced by movies and reality—were dreams many harbored. That kind of flamboyant defiance had been idolized by countless youths in the 80s and 90s, almost to the point of blind worship.

Even though there were no supporting staff in the jewelry store to cower in fear, everyone was brimming with endless energy, fully committed to this moment.

Outside, the roar of the machine guns never stopped. The “rat-tat-tat” of their fury signaled that the slaughter outside was reaching a fever pitch. As the leader of a team, one had to possess the ability to maintain control. This included monitoring the surrounding situation, the firepower status of the team, and calculating how long the ammunition could sustain high-intensity combat.

When dealing with zombies, their numbers were vast and dense; usually, only concentrated firepower could hold them back.

Cen Kelin checked the time. The entire process had taken only five minutes, exactly as he had estimated. Scanning the scene and seeing the jewelry mall had been cleared out, he tightened the bag of jewelry strapped to his body and shouted with satisfaction, “Alright, let’s move out!”

Everyone was ecstatic. At the very least, this run was a success, and the haul was far from small.

The jewelry mall was located at a main road intersection. When Cen Kelin and the others rushed out, they were met with a dense sea of zombies. Five minutes was more than enough time for nearby zombies to converge. Their speed wasn’t slow, either—only slightly slower than a human’s running pace.

Cen Kelin didn’t panic. He tossed the bag into the truck, climbed onto the roof of the cabin, and roared, “We break out the way we came!”

Everyone knew that every second was crucial. The denser the zombies, the harder it would be to break through. The men threw the gold jewelry into the truck and grabbed their guns, diving back into the fight. The firepower of over twenty men was fierce; the street in their path was instantly cleared of a large swathe of the undead.

“Go! Move out!”

At Cen Kelin’s command, the truck’s engine roared to life. The tires screeched against the pavement before crushing their way over the fallen zombies. The machine gun on top didn’t stop, strafing the front frantically, continuously mowing down zombies onto the street.

Zhou Yuanqiang and a dozen others fired as they ran, sweeping down the zombies chasing from behind. They sprinted desperately down the corpse-strewn street, following the truck. Every one of them knew that if they lost track of the vehicle and the protection it provided during the breakthrough, they would be torn to shreds in seconds.

The street was littered with zombie remains. Running at high speeds while occasionally turning to fire at the closing zombies meant that one moment of inattention could lead to tripping over a corpse. It was incredibly perilous. The men who had been laughing and cheering while looting gold moments ago now wore expressions of grim focus.

Qi Aiwen had experienced this once before. During a similar retreat, he had been following a vehicle when he tripped over a zombie corpse. That scene still haunted him. He would never forget that moment—the closing zombies, their foul fluids even dripping onto his body. If he hadn’t been lucky enough to have a good group of companions, he would have been torn apart long ago.

It was because of that experience that he wasn’t just shadowed by fear but had become exceptionally cautious.

However, life has a way of mocking you—the more you dread an event, the more likely it is to happen. Despite Qi Aiwen’s caution, an accident found him. As he turned slightly to kill a zombie, his foot landed on a severed arm. Losing his balance, he fell face-first onto the ground.

At that moment, Qi Aiwen’s mind went blank, his ears ringing with a loud hum.

“Goddammit, what happened?”

Cen Kelin roared. In the time it took to draw a breath, the truck had already left Qi Aiwen six or seven meters behind.

In such a moment, six or seven meters was the distance between life and death. Even if Cen Kelin wanted to stop and go back for him, it was impossible. The zombies behind them were originally only ten meters from the truck. Now that the gap had closed, a rescue was fundamentally impossible.

Cen Kelin knew Qi Aiwen was finished. Not even a god could save him now.

However…

“What the hell? Xiao Shao, how did he…”

No one had noticed when the scrawny Xiao Shao had appeared by Qi Aiwen’s side. Or perhaps Xiao Shao had also fallen behind? But now wasn’t the time to ponder that, because Xiao Shao erupted with incredible strength. Like a lightning bolt, he hauled Qi Aiwen up. His handgun barked in a rapid “bang-bang-bang,” killing several zombies that were mere inches away. He then hoisted Qi Aiwen and began to bolt.

This series of actions seemed slow in description, but to Cen Kelin, it felt like it happened in the blink of an eye.

Only Qi Aiwen, the one involved, felt as if a year had passed. He felt a gust of wind, and then Xiao Shao’s voice reached his ears: “Hey, brother, are you really giving up just like that? Get up! We’re leaving. Life has to go on; it’ll get better.”

Then, everything Cen Kelin and the others saw unfolded.

The 1.8-meter-tall Qi Aiwen felt as if he were being carried as he ran. However, his mind was so consumed by the euphoria of a narrow escape that he didn’t notice the strangeness of it. To the onlookers, it looked like Qi Aiwen was running alongside the scrawny Zhou Yuanqiang.

The truck intentionally slowed down to coordinate with them, suppressing the zombies behind.

Once they were safely under the protection of the truck’s machine gun, Qi Aiwen finally breathed a sigh of relief. He vented his terror by holding the trigger down, strafing the rear. “Come on! Come on, you bastards! I’m not afraid of you! You can’t kill me! Die! All of you, die!”

They crossed three streets. The further they got toward the outskirts, the fewer the zombies became. A few minutes later, the path ahead of the truck was almost clear, with only scattered zombies remaining.

Cen Kelin grew excited and roared, “Guys, keep it up! We’ve broken through!”

After leaving the urban area of Haiphong and entering the zone along the river, the area was empty; not a single zombie was in sight. Everyone knew that once they reached this point, the main resistance was over. They only needed to shake off the ones following them to be safe.

Humans have different running speeds, and the same goes for zombies. High-level zombies were much faster, sometimes even surpassing humans. Back in the crowded streets, their speed advantage couldn’t be utilized. But out here in the open, the high-level zombies broke away from the ordinary ones, leading the pack in pursuit of the humans.

Any experienced person would include this scenario in their plan.

Cen Kelin was no exception. High-level zombies weren’t terrifying as long as you faced them with calm and composure. Since they ran in straight lines, a single precision shot could take them out. Dealing with high-level zombies was all about timing.

Bang! Bang! Bang! A series of precision shots rang out, and several high-level zombies tumbled backward, kicking up clouds of dust.

The simple defensive works built by the river weren’t far from Haiphong—about two or three kilometers. For the constitution of humans in the apocalypse, a run of a few kilometers was perfectly normal. One must not forget that humans had spent years living in a state of constant flight; they had long ago mastered the art of running for their lives.

By the time they retreated into the defensive works, the yacht picking up the bait, Li Canming, had not yet returned. Cen Kelin knew they had one more hard fight ahead until the yacht arrived.

The machine gun from the truck was mounted onto the parapet of the defensive works, strafing the approaching zombies wildly. As the numbers grew, it was no longer time to conserve ammunition. Zhou Yuanqiang, standing to the side, could only manage a wry smile. Cen Kelin’s plan was decent, but he lacked the ability to handle every variable.

More terrifying than the growing number of zombies was a figure emerging from the distant street corner. It was a massive zombie, about three meters tall, its head a bloody, hideous mess. It was dragging a broken metal lamppost, stepping forward one stride at a time amidst the ordinary zombies.

Cen Kelin’s jaw dropped, and he let out a curse. “Motherfucker!”

Without needing orders from Cen Kelin, Meng Li, the sniper, was already atop a truck with his scoped rifle. He lay prone, propped up the rifle, and locked onto the head of this never-before-seen zombie. Bang! He pulled the trigger.

From a distance of just over 400 meters, the zombie’s head was struck by a precise bullet. A splash of blood appeared as a hole in its forehead began to seep black fluid.

The massive frame collapsed instantly. The lamppost hit the street with a sharp metallic clang. Two or three zombies in its path were pinned beneath it, struggling desperately to crawl out. But the giant zombie was too heavy; no matter how they thrashed, they couldn’t escape.

Meng Li smiled, lowered his sniper rifle, and gave an “OK” gesture.

Cen Kelin also laughed, saying, “Nice! Damn, I guess I’m not paying you for nothing, hahaha!”

However, Cen Kelin’s laughter vanished an instant later. He realized that the zombie Meng Li had shot in the head was climbing back up. It dragged the lamppost along and suddenly swung it, sending several nearby zombies flying in a spray of fluids before charging toward the defensive works.

“What the hell? How is that possible?”

A zombie’s head was its fatal weakness. Yet, having clearly been hit in the skull, it continued forward as if nothing had happened. This completely overturned Cen Kelin’s training regarding zombies. Only Zhou Yuanqiang understood that for such “large-type” zombies, a single shot to the head wouldn’t kill them instantly. Only by completely pulverizing the entire head could they be put down.

Meng Li was stunned for a moment but gritted his teeth and raised his sniper rifle again. He aimed at the zombie’s head and pulled the trigger.

The bullet left the barrel and, in a fraction of a second, kissed the zombie’s head. Blood splattered like raindrops. But this time, the attack didn’t even knock it down; it simply kept coming, step by step.

The machine gunner swiveled his weapon toward the massive target and let loose, creating a metal storm.

Bullets were spent like they were free, punching hole after hole into the zombie’s body. But it had zero effect. It kept advancing as if nothing could stop it. Its height made it look clumsy, but it was actually incredibly fast. One moment it was 400 meters away; in the blink of an eye, it was right in front of them.

Braving the bullets, it silently raised the lamppost and slammed it down toward the truck where Meng Li was positioned.

“Holy shit!”

Meng Li rolled away, dodging the strike. The roof of the truck, however, suffered—it was smashed flat.

As if it required no effort at all, the zombie swung again after the first miss, sweeping the lamppost toward the retreating Meng Li. The movements seemed slow, yet they carried devastating power. Meng Li, who had just rolled away, had to roll again. This time, the entire roof of the truck was swept off in a shower of sparks and the screech of tearing metal.

Seeing it couldn’t hit Meng Li, the giant took several strides, stepping right over the vehicle barriers and into the defensive works.

The ferocity of this giant zombie made everyone gulp. At least several hundred rounds had hit it, leaving its body a mangled mess of flesh, yet it acted as if it were unharmed, rampaging with that lamppost. No one dared to stand in the way of its sweeps; they scrambled away like rats.

Without the suppressing fire, the zombie swarm was unleashed, surging toward the simple fortifications like a rising tide.

“Aim for its head! Hit the head!”

Cen Kelin screamed, his submachine gun barking as he sprayed the zombie’s head. However, even with blood flying from the impacts, the creature wouldn’t fall. Instead, it was angered. Its attention was drawn, and it abandoned the others to head straight for Cen Kelin.

Cen Kelin knew how dangerous this thing was. Seeing it lock onto him, he immediately retreated.

Only after he had run a distance did he realize that Xiao Shao had been standing right next to him and hadn’t moved.

“Xiao Shao, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Cen Kelin saw Xiao Shao standing before the giant zombie as if he were paralyzed with fear, staring blankly at the rising lamppost. This scene made everyone’s hearts stop. If that thing came down, even a man of steel would be turned into mincemeat. Looking at the zombie’s destructive power—smashing a car into scrap metal in two or three hits—its strength was terrifying, and it seemed nearly unkillable.

The lamppost sliced through the air with an all-consuming momentum, crashing down toward Zhou Yuanqiang’s head.

In truth, Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t being foolish; he knew that if he didn’t intervene, this simple defensive line would be overrun by the swarm. Facing the lamppost that carried 500 kilograms of force, Zhou Yuanqiang actually reached out his hand to meet the oncoming, ferocious metal pole.

Cen Kelin closed his eyes. It’s over. Why didn’t that idiot just dodge?

A “thud” rang out—a sound that was somewhat like an impact on flesh, yet not quite. Then came the sound of metal snapping, followed by the sound of people gasping for air.

Cen Kelin opened his eyes only to see the scrawny Xiao Shao holding his hand up, having caught the descending lamppost. The force of half a ton had been halted by a single small hand. The immense impact and counter-force were more than the lamppost could take, and it snapped with a sharp crack.

This scene completely defied Cen Kelin’s understanding of reality. It was like… like a movie.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t care what the others thought. He grabbed the broken section of the lamppost and rushed forward like a phantom, turning into a black blur. He stepped onto the part of the pole still held by the zombie, leaped high into the air, swung his half of the pole, and with a roar, smashed it into the zombie’s head.

Like a sledgehammer hitting a watermelon, the entire head was pulverized by the massive force, exploding instantly.

The giant zombie that bullets couldn’t kill had its head and a large portion of its neck destroyed in a single blow. Deprived of its head, the zombie leaned on its broken pole and slowly toppled over, eventually hitting the ground with a heavy thud, never to rise again.

Since his abilities were now exposed, Zhou Yuanqiang stopped holding back. Swinging the broken section of the lamppost, he leaped into the zombie swarm like a god of slaughter. With a savage horizontal sweep, he sent zombies flying over ten meters away. When they landed, they were mangled heaps, their skeletons completely shattered into a mess of pulp.

The vast number of zombies was cleared into a vacuum zone by the meat-grinder that was Zhou Yuanqiang. The ground was soon covered in the pulpy remains of the undead.

Including Cen Kelin, everyone stood there gulping, staring at the figure that moved with such blinding speed it was little more than a blur—a figure that swatted away a mass of zombies like they were trash toys. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Was this really the scrawny, frail-looking Xiao Shao?

He was… a total goddamn freak.

Cen Kelin strained his eyes but could see nothing clearly, only a faint shadow flickering about. Cen Kelin, who considered himself an elite, felt a tinge of sorrow. He felt no different from a racer who couldn’t even see the taillights of the car ahead—plunged into a state of endless despair.

“Who exactly is he?”

The thought surfaced, and no matter how much Cen Kelin racked his brain, he couldn’t comprehend how a human could possess such power. It was far beyond the scope of human knowledge. Moreover, why would such a super-expert be in his team? What was his motive?

For a moment, Cen Kelin was utterly bewildered.

Chapter 396: Re-enacting the Scene of Infection

It took a full day to travel from Haiphong to the mouth of the Ba La River.

In the buffer zone where the Ba La River met the South China Sea, the yacht dropped anchor in the deep waters, intending to spend the night there. They would proceed up the river the following day, officially entering the inland regions of northern Vietnam.

In the eyes of the others, the heroically performing Xiao Shao was now like a god descended to earth—they were almost ready to worship him.

“Master Xiao!”

The boisterous Li Canming handed a glass of chilled red wine to Zhou Yuanqiang, his attitude respectful to the extreme. For a yacht, facilities like a refrigerator were naturally essential. When Cen Kelin had repaired the vessel, he had only managed to fix a small fridge in one of the bedrooms. Not everyone on the yacht could enjoy chilled drinks, let alone iced red wine.

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t stand on ceremony. He took the glass, had a small sip, and remarked, “This wine isn’t bad.”

Li Canming broke into a fawning smile and said, “Of course, Master Xiao. I went to a lot of trouble to get this from the Boss just to honor you. Whether in terms of value or sentiment, this is a token of my sincere devotion.”

“Master Xiao” was a title they had given him, and Zhou Yuanqiang hadn’t rejected it. In the apocalypse, strength naturally earned respect. The problem was that their respect seemed a bit tainted; every one of them simply wanted to fish for information.

Zhou Yuanqiang, of course, had a way to explain away his superhuman performance.

Back in Haiphong, as he was sending swaths of zombies flying to reach the yacht, Cen Kelin had certainly harbored suspicions. However, when Zhou Yuanqiang produced an exciter, all doubts were explained away. His recent displays of valor were attributed to a crystal-excited reinforced state.

The existence of Crystal Warriors was no secret within the Commercial Association. Documentary-style films were filled with scenes of Crystal Warriors making fierce charges, their power sweeping aside everything in their path. Clad in heavy battle armor, they were virtually invincible among the zombies. Everywhere a Crystal Warrior passed, the scene was absolutely staggering. People in the Commercial Association had always talked obsessively about their power.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s explanation was simple: he was a rank nine Crystal Warrior who had retired for certain reasons.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang had underestimated their thirst for Crystal Warriors and exciters. Once the mystery was solved, they immediately shifted their focus to the exciter itself. The Commercial Association kept a tight lid on these devices, strictly forbidding their outflow. The regulations were several times stricter than the control of firearms on the mainland before the apocalypse.

Thanks to advanced management systems, there was no way for an exciter to leak out.

What Cen Kelin and the others found strange was how Zhou Yuanqiang could possibly have one… If they had one as well, thinking of the prowess Zhou Yuanqiang showed in Haiphong, no one could help but be tempted. That mountain-moving momentum and ignore-everything ferocity had left a deep impression. Even ignoring the aspect of fighting zombies, if one just considered how cool it looked, there was no telling how many women would be charmed by it.

Heaven knows, the women of the Commercial Association all had their eyes set incredibly high; without some extraordinary traits, how could anyone impress them?

Thus, the title “Master Xiao” was born. During the day’s journey from Haiphong to the Ba La River mouth, everyone took turns coming over to curry favor, hoping to get the information they wanted from Zhou Yuanqiang’s mouth—specifically, how to buy an exciter and become an invincible Crystal Warrior.

But Zhou Yuanqiang’s exciter was an authentic one from the Commercial Association. He didn’t have some secret back-channel; he was just making up excuses to fool them, so what could he possibly tell them?

Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t expose their intentions. He accepted the gifts and ate the food, but as for the information they wanted… no chance. After some people hit a wall, they stopped coming. Only Li Canming, who seemed to be missing a screw in his head, kept coming around to pester him. He was determined to find the source of the exciters.

Hearing Li Canming’s fawning laughter, Zhou Yuanqiang sipped his wine and said, “Little Li, I know what’s on your mind. But there really isn’t a channel for these exciters. The Commercial Association gave me this as a merit reward for my outstanding contributions and allowed me to keep it. You shouldn’t waste your effort. If you bring out this kind of wine once or twice more, you’ll probably blow through your entire salary for this hunt, won’t you?”

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang use the same old line, Li Canming felt a sense of disdain: Everyone in the Commercial Association knows that exciters are never given as kept merit rewards. You’re just bullshitting me. But upon hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s second sentence, Li Canming felt like his life was a tragedy: Is it easy for me to come out here and risk my life for a bit of money? I’ve fawned over him several times, and this is the result?

Watching Li Canming’s expression of silent despair, Zhou Yuanqiang was amused. “Stop acting in front of me. If you really want to become a Crystal Warrior, go join the army and apply for the program.”

Li Canming gave a wry smile. “Master Xiao, I want to, but the problem is the Commercial Association isn’t recruiting right now. I have no way to serve.”

“Don’t worry. Maybe the Commercial Association will start expanding the military soon.”

Zhou Yuanqiang wasn’t just fooling Li Canming; the Commercial Association did indeed have plans to expand the military. This included the expansion of the Crystal Warriors, though the main focus wasn’t them, but the Air Force. If nothing went wrong, the appearance of the Starry Sky and the integration of high technology meant that the Army would be scaled back. They would no longer serve as the primary strike force and would focus more on being a defensive force.

To the left of the Ba La River mouth was a large-scale aquaculture farm.

Cen Kelin led a team to clear out about a dozen zombies there and salvaged a large amount of seafood from the farm. These sea creatures had lived in the farm for eight years; most of them had starved to death, but a small portion had survived until today. They were essentially wild-caught marine life now. More importantly, they were incredibly plump and delicious.

After a night spent over a table full of seafood, the yacht headed upstream along the Ba La River early the next morning.

Dense jungle grew along the riverbanks, and animals could be seen appearing from time to time. The terrain of Vietnam was much more complex than Zhou Yuanqiang had imagined. No wonder the Americans had gotten stuck in a quagmire here long ago, dragged down until anti-war sentiment at home reached a peak, forcing them to hastily end a war that had yielded nothing for them.

Using guerrilla tactics learned from the Russians, the Vietnamese had been like fish in water in these jungles. Relying on the terrain and international factors, they had eventually faced the Sino-Vietnamese War.

Now, in the apocalypse decades later, the Vietnamese people without military training could no longer be as brave and battle-hardened as they were back then. It was even more impossible to talk about protecting the country or defending territory—that was all apocalyptic nonsense. Zhou Yuanqiang had encountered that brand of brain-dead person back in the Commercial Association; the result was them being thrown into the trash heap.

Because they were heading upstream, the natural restoration of the environment and rising water levels meant the current was very swift, keeping the yacht’s speed at only about 6 knots.

By noon, they arrived at Da Gu, as marked on the map.

Since entering the Ba La River, Cen Kelin had been standing on the yacht’s deck, using binoculars to observe the riverbanks. It wasn’t until they reached Da Gu and passed the Da Gu Bridge that he saw a faint wisp of green smoke rising from a ridge.

This discovery excited Cen Kelin. He waved for the yacht to drop anchor and pointed to the spot he had found. “Everyone, that should be a survivors’ settlement. I want to go take a look.”

Settlements usually contained large amounts of gold and other valuables. When people fled, the items they carried were almost exclusively such treasures. It was a thrill to find; back then, they couldn’t have predicted the food issues, nor did they realize the consequences of holding valuables once order collapsed.

The issues of human nature that occurred in the apocalypse were, in fact, partially caused by the temptation of these items.

It was no exaggeration to say that none of the gold or valuables today remained in the hands of their original owners; they had likely changed hands several times. Almost every transfer represented the tragic fate of the previous owner. As the number of transfers increased, the valuables became more concentrated, eventually ending up in the hands of those with actual power.

If they were under the rule of the Commercial Association, Cen Kelin wouldn’t have harbored such thoughts. But on Vietnamese soil… Cen Kelin didn’t consider himself a saint. Kind people didn’t live long in the apocalypse. Only in times of peace could one find the truly kind.

Cen Kelin was the Boss; since he had made the decision, naturally no one objected.

Facing a settlement, a team of twenty or so people was somewhat small. Therefore, Cen Kelin’s first step was to scout the scale of the settlement and its armed strength. If the other party was powerful, they would retreat quietly. If the settlement was weak, well, then these twenty-odd international friends would transform into demons.

The thick mountain forest made progress frustratingly slow. Fortunately, there were no snakes or insects to worry about.

Though it didn’t look far away, it took an hour and a half to finally reach a ridge near the settlement. Cen Kelin looked down through his binoculars. The settlement was located in a small valley, consisting entirely of wooden houses. The population was roughly three to four hundred people.

A group of one or two hundred people would have been within Cen Kelin’s control, but three or four hundred was not something a team of their size could threaten.

“Bah, looks like a wasted trip.”

Cen Kelin lowered his binoculars with some regret. He could see that the settlement had sound security measures. The guard towers were manned by people carrying improvised firearms and rifles. Their weapons might be primitive, but twenty people couldn’t challenge them.

Down in the settlement, it was currently lunchtime. The wisp of smoke Cen Kelin had observed earlier came from one of the first households to start cooking. Now, smoke rose from everywhere, and the occasional sound of children laughing could be heard. The power structure here was likely the same as in the Stronghold, with a commander and various classes ruling over the common residents at the bottom.

Their clothes were tattered, and the children played in the settlement mostly naked. The men they saw occasionally were all shirtless, their dark skin stretched over powerful muscles. Judging by the ages of the children, this settlement had existed for at least six years.

Seeing no opportunity, Cen Kelin could only order a retreat.

The others had no objections; it was impossible to risk their lives attacking a settlement of this size. If you say you’re just there to get soy sauce, who knows if the other party is friendly? If things went south, the team of twenty-odd people would be eaten until not even scraps remained. Everyone had experienced and witnessed the cruelty of the apocalypse; there was no room for humanity.

The group headed back down the ridge, retracing their original path.

However, a sudden scream erupted from the settlement they had just left. Gunshots rang out across the valley, followed by the sounds of panic and Vietnamese shouts. Aside from Cen Kelin, the only one who could understand a few words of what they were yelling was Zhou Yuanqiang.

Cen Kelin’s expression changed, and he led the group back to the top of the ridge. “It’s the zombies!”

Everyone with binoculars raised them, watching the battle between humans and zombies unfold in the settlement from the ridgeline. No one stopped to wonder where the zombies had come from. Surrounded by ridges and with Da Gu being the closest town—separated by a river—how could there be zombies here?

Through the binoculars, they could see…

The settlement hidden in the small valley was currently plunged into endless panic. Terrified people were scattering in all directions. The wooden structures were covered with thatch and leaves. Since it was lunchtime, fires began to break out in the houses, making loud crackling sounds.

In the glow of the fires, hideous zombie faces were revealed. They weren’t ordinary zombies, but bio-dogs.

It was hard to imagine the scene of dozens of infected bio-dogs appearing together. They possessed speed no less than a level seven zombie, and their agility reached the level of a level eight or nine. They were even more terrifying than high-level zombies, their level of difficulty on par with some Special Infected.

Dozens of bio-dogs were essentially identical to dozens of Special Infected. Their combined destructive power was even more ferocious. The settlement of three to four hundred people couldn’t stop them for even a moment; people were pounced upon and torn into fragments.

Those firing guns were often the ones who attracted the bio-dogs the most. Bullets were effective against the dogs, but unless they hit the skull, they couldn’t be killed. Their speed was too great; unless a person had incredible reflexes, it was very difficult to hit their heads.

Those who were pounced on screamed in agony as they were shredded into pieces. Entrails and organs were scattered everywhere, dragged along the ground. Bloody chunks of meat mixed with the mud and fallen leaves of the settlement, making it impossible to tell what was what.

The children who had been playing just moments ago were the primary targets for the bio-dogs. Some even had their entire heads bitten off, crushed by the dogs’ powerful jaws. For these weak children, there was no resistance, only their dying cries.

In this moment of life and death, no one would look out for anyone else. Beyond running desperately toward the woods, there was nothing they could do.

Bio-dogs were unlike ordinary zombies, which would bite someone and refuse to let go until the victim was reduced to mincemeat. These dogs were like assassins; they tore apart those they could, while others they simply bit once before darting toward their next target.

A large number of people who were merely bitten rolled on the ground in agony, staring desperately at their wounds, clutching them and letting out heart-wrenching screams. The wounds originally bled red, but moments later, the blood turned black.

Changing into a zombie usually took two or three hours, but the virus in the bio-dogs was too potent. In less than an hour, the victims would become mindless zombies. They would wander aimlessly like the millions of zombies they had once killed—true walking corpses.

Those who were injured and had guns or knives simply pressed them to their temples, closed their eyes, and pulled the trigger or drove the blade home. For them, death was preferable to becoming a zombie. Every human harbored an unspeakable dread of becoming a zombie.

However, more people were unarmed. They could only wait on the spot in despair for the moment they turned.

Raging fires consumed more than half of the settlement. Under the assault of the lightning-fast bio-dogs, no one could escape death. The entire settlement of three to four hundred people was transformed into a land of the dead in a mere hour.

Having finished their slaughter, the bio-dogs returned to the heart of the settlement to re-tear and slowly feast on the corpses they had just killed. They no longer had any interest in those who could still move but had no chance of survival, leaving them to breathe their final breaths nearby.

Knowing their time was short, the injured stared at the sky through the leaves with graying eyes. Some of the more resolute individuals used their remaining strength to charge at the bio-dogs, clinging to them and using their own teeth to rip chunks of flesh from the dogs until they were themselves torn apart.

After another half hour, the bio-dogs, their muzzles dripping with blood, vanished back into the mountain forest bordering the settlement, heading toward who-knows-where. For them, wandering was their purpose. One could only wonder how many other settlements would fall to them during their travels.

The scene of that single hour left everyone on the ridge dripping with cold sweat. Given the dogs’ agility, their entire team wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes before becoming food for those dozens of bio-dogs. Even Xiao Shao, the Crystal Warrior, without his battle armor, could only have met his end there.

As the fires continued to burn, the survivors infected by wounds finally stood up tremblingly. Reeling and staggering, they pounced on the corpses torn apart by the bio-dogs, crazily gnawing on the remaining chunks of meat…

Chapter 397: Hanoi

How long had it been since Cen Kelin last saw someone infected by a zombie attack? He probably couldn’t even remember the specific date himself.

Since the aggressive rise of the Far Reach Commercial Association, everywhere the association went was protected by professional military forces. Infections were limited to the ranks of the army and did not affect the common populace. This had caused people to gradually forget the scenes from the beginning of the apocalypse, as if they were events from a distant past.

Witnessing this scene once again today, Cen Kelin suddenly realized that the apocalypse had never truly gone away; it was still right here, closer than ever.

Even the most cold-hearted person would blink and turn away after witnessing a sight that so violently challenged human sanity. Scattered across the ground were torn corpses, particularly those of children only a few years old. Their broken bodies and twisted faces bore expressions of immense agony. In eyes that should have been innocent and bright, there was only a dull, ashen gray, staring blankly at the sky.

The pack of Bio-dogs had left, but what they left behind was the total annihilation of the settlement.

Under the glow of the raging fires, the newly turned zombies were backlit in red as they gnawed on chunks of flesh. Fresh blood held an irresistible attraction for them, causing them to ignore everything else. Like wild dogs fighting over scraps, a single piece of meat would often trigger a feeding frenzy among several zombies. Some of these newborn zombies had only taken a single bite, while others were missing limbs; some had their entire midsections hollowed out or their faces completely torn away.

Because they had only just transformed, from a distance or from behind, they looked no different from humans. Their wounds remained raw and bloody. But Cen Kelin knew that in a few days, those wounds would turn black and rot, emitting a thick, putrid stench and breeding corpse worms, becoming so disgusting they would be unbearable.

“What do we do now?”

The question came from Ma Jixi, the team’s gunner.

Cen Kelin’s brow furrowed. Raising his binoculars, he scanned the entire small valley, attempting to find the trail of the dozens of Bio-dogs through every gap in the trees. The issue wasn’t what to do next, but whether they had attracted the attention of those demons.

Faced with such a development, who still had the heart to care about the gold and valuables hidden in the settlement?

Zhou Yuanqiang remained indifferent to the sight. The key was what Cen Kelin decided to do. Beside him, Li Canming leaned in and whispered, “Master Xiao, do you think we have a chance to rush into the settlement? Dammit, we can’t take on hundreds of people, but a hundred or so zombies should be a piece of cake, right?”

“If you want to face those Bio-dogs, go ahead and chase your dreams of wealth.”

Hearing Zhou Yuanqiang’s words, Li Canming involuntarily shrank his neck. Just thinking about the madness of the Bio-dogs earlier made his feet go cold. Wealth was important, but you had to be alive to enjoy it. If the Bio-dogs decided to double back, a group this small wouldn’t even know how they died.

Clearly, the gold revealed by the raging fires was tempting, but Cen Kelin ultimately held back. He waved a hand and said, “Let’s move. There’s no point in throwing our lives away for these things. We’ll head northwest; there will be plenty of other opportunities.”

When they retreated to the yacht, it continued its journey upstream.

However, something made everyone’s blood run cold: the Bio-dog pack, which had disappeared for over an hour, collectively reappeared on the riverbank, barking wildly at the yacht. Moving with lightning speed, they pursued the vessel. At a speed of 6 or 7 knots, the boat simply couldn’t shake them.

Cen Kelin picked up a Type 81 rifle fitted with a scope. He aimed at a Bio-dog chasing them along the bank and pulled the trigger. Bang!

A Bio-dog stumbled. Cen Kelin’s shot had only hit its neck, causing a spray of black liquid. The shot only served to incite the pack’s fury, and their barking grew even louder. Several of them even looked ready to leap into the river water…

“Damn it!”

Cen Kelin cursed and shouted, “Open fire! I refuse to believe we can’t kill them.”

Ma Jixi mounted his machine gun and began strafing the Bio-dogs just a hundred meters away. Rat-tat-tat! Bullets kicked up dirt on the bank, some striking the Bio-dogs and leaving rows of holes in their bodies. The light machine gun’s power wasn’t enough to deliver a fatal blow unless a bullet happened to pierce a dog’s head, only then would one collapse.

Accompanying the machine gun was the precision firing from the others with their rifles.

Li Canming and Qi Aiwen were decent shots. Despite the Bio-dogs’ speed, one out of every four or five shots would successfully hit a head. Under this barrage from the yacht, seven or eight dogs fell within fifteen minutes.

“Wen, these damn dogs aren’t as tough as I thought!”

Li Canming grew cocky as he landed a shot that bowled a Bio-dog over. Qi Aiwen rolled his eyes and said, “Not tough? If it weren’t for a hundred meters of river separating us, they’d be in our faces in the blink of an eye with that speed.”

Li Canming gave a sheepish grin, then started cursing again after missing several shots in a row.

Eventually, the yacht reached a stretch of water with a calmer current. The vessel accelerated, finally leaving the pack of Bio-dogs behind. They had wasted over a thousand rounds of ammunition just to kill a dozen or so dogs. It was easy to imagine that on land, with that level of performance, the entire team would have been wiped out ten times over.

After spending the night in the middle of the Red River near Chi Ninh, they continued along the river the next day. Two days later, they finally arrived at An My, on the outskirts of Hanoi. Reaching this point meant the team’s final destination was within sight.

Compared to Haiphong, the two were on completely different levels. Hanoi could be called the economic, political, and cultural center of Vietnam—the capital and its second-largest city. It spanned 920 square kilometers, housed nearly four million people, and boasted a history of over a thousand years.

Cen Kelin’s plan to target Hanoi could only be described as audacious. A team of thirty people was like a drop of water in an ocean before a city this size. Their actions were akin to an ant challenging an elephant.

Standing on the yacht, Cen Kelin looked out over Hanoi in the twilight, filled with emotion.

He gathered the entire team and pointed toward the city shrouded in darkness. “You might all think I’m a madman, but I want to tell you that I am perfectly sober. Challenging Hanoi might look like insanity—even I think only a crazy person would do it. But my goal isn’t to challenge the city; it’s just to carve out a single piece of meat from it.”

Cen Kelin was well-prepared. He pulled out a map of Hanoi and, using the yacht’s searchlight, said, “I paid a high price to have this map specially printed at a press; it’s the latest map of Hanoi.” He pointed to a location about one kilometer southeast of Hoan Kiem Lake. “This is our target!”

He tapped the spot and drew a circle with a red pen. “In all of Hanoi, this is the best target. It’s only about 200 meters from the banks of the Red River. The number of zombies we’ll have to face won’t be that large, and when we retreat, we only need to get back to the river. We can easily escape via the yacht.”

The place Cen Kelin pointed to was labeled “Museum,” with a Chinese annotation above it: Vietnam National Museum of History.

Everyone stared at the spot. As one of the most magnificent buildings in Hanoi, only a few people in the group actually knew of it.

Li Canming scratched his head, confused. “Boss, why this? What’s the point of hitting some damn historical museum? Everything inside is just old stuff. You’re not going to bring back a bunch of broken bowls, are you? Who would even want those?”

Cen Kelin kicked Li Canming. “Stop your damn babbling. Yes, there are Neolithic artifacts and Bronze Age tools, and even sculptures like the Thousand-Hand Thousand-Eye Guanyin, which are indeed just ‘old stuff.’ But have you thought about how much gold and jade from the Vietnamese imperial courts might be in there? Just the ornate crowns alone—there are more collectors wanting those than you can imagine.”

“Back home, the Commercial Association’s Code of Law keeps us in check. But here in Hanoi, the association has no jurisdiction. Besides, given our low numbers, the museum’s location is the most suitable for our operation.”

Once they understood the destination and the objective, and heard Cen Kelin’s plan, they spent one last night on the yacht after dinner.

Early the next morning, the yacht headed up the Red River. Buildings from Hanoi lined both banks, and traces of zombies were visible everywhere. The Vietnamese clearly lacked the power to reclaim their capital. It could be inferred that the current situation in Vietnam was one of fragmentation, with no effective governing force organized.

Cen Kelin didn’t care about any “governing force.” In the apocalypse, if you stole something, it was yours. There were no international police or extradition treaties here.

Looting their national museum was essentially a massive slap in the face, trampling their national dignity. If they knew about this desecration of their state heritage, they would likely be fuming.

In Cen Kelin’s view, a slap was a slap. Whether they knew about it was another matter entirely.

Arriving at the stretch of the Red River east of Hoan Kiem Lake from An My didn’t look far on the map, but it still took over three hours. With the sun high in the sky, everyone on the yacht gathered on the deck, rifles in hand, observing the scenery of Hanoi along the river. Something that would have been impossible before the apocalypse was now being done during it. It was a rather ironic thought.

The yacht’s engine wasn’t particularly loud, but the sound still carried far across the surface of the Red River.

Zombies who heard the noise swarmed the riverbanks, their arms reaching out. They crowded and surged against the embankments built along the river, and like dumplings falling into a pot, zombies were constantly pushed off. They splashed into the water, only to be swept away by the current.

As this was the city center of Hanoi, the population density was predictably high. It was no surprise to see a literal tide of zombies here.

Cen Kelin frowned at the sight of such numbers. Considering the yacht’s noise, he pointed to the east bank and said, “We’ll wait over there until the zombies disperse a bit.” His team couldn’t possibly handle a horde of this size.

Opposite the museum’s location was a muddy area without buildings.

The Red River was quite deep, allowing the yacht to dock right against the bank. After checking their ammunition, everyone sat on the deck, eating dry rations and making final preparations. Everyone felt a bit apprehensive; after all, they were about to charge into the city center. With such a massive number of zombies, who knew if they would encounter powerful Special Infected?

Cen Kelin kept a close watch on the zombies across the way. Once the yacht’s engine was cut, they indeed became less frenzied. Before long, they began to scatter in all directions.

An hour later, the yacht started up again and appeared near a mangrove forest on the opposite bank. After dropping anchor, several people stayed to guard the boat while the rest entered the mangroves, advancing through the mud. Upon reaching a section blocked by wire fencing, Cen Kelin signaled for them to stop.

“Xiao Shao, this isn’t like Haiphong. we need at least six vehicles. I’m giving you an hour and a half. Understood?”

Zhou Yuanqiang nodded. He nimbly hopped over the wire fence and, under the watchful eyes of Cen Kelin and the others, disappeared down a nearby side path. Not far away was a parking lot, and through the gaps in the leaves, they could see zombies wandering inside.

Everyone knew the power of a Crystal Warrior, but they had to enter a reinforced state after activation to be effective; otherwise, they were only slightly stronger than an average person. Furthermore, activating crystal energy only lasted for about forty-five minutes, so he certainly wouldn’t trigger it now.

Thinking that Xiao Shao was currently in his normal state, everyone felt a surge of tension for him. He had to stay in that parking lot for an hour and a half; who knew if something would go wrong? The success of this operation hinged on Xiao Shao, the Crystal Warrior. If an emergency occurred and he was forced to reinforce early, they wouldn’t be able to rely on his strength for the rest of the mission.

In reality, once he was out of their sight, Zhou Yuanqiang became like a ghost. He drew a battle blade from his storage space, and as he flickered past each zombie, the blade flashed with a cold light, severing their heads and sending them rolling.

In moments, Zhou Yuanqiang had cleared the dozens of zombies in the large parking lot.

He walked over to an MPV, checked it, and then shook his head. Vehicles like this were suitable for the team, as they could carry seven people. However, in Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, a heavy truck would be better—something he could use to plow through anything. The success rate would be much higher. Unfortunately, this was downtown Hanoi, and such vehicles weren’t likely to be found here.

Fixing six cars in an hour and a half was fundamentally impossible. These cars weren’t just suffering from minor issues; they hadn’t been started in eight years. Even at a specialized repair shop, it would take hours or even half a day to get them running.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s solution was simple: he returned to Somalia, found several old trucks, removed their license plates, and moved them to Hanoi.

As for whether they would wonder why there were trucks in the city center—well, that wasn’t Zhou Yuanqiang’s problem to explain. They could believe whatever they wanted. They hadn’t seen him do it, so they wouldn’t claim he’d conjured them out of thin air, would they?

Total time elapsed was only half an hour. If he went back too fast, they wouldn’t believe him. Zhou Yuanqiang simply had a hearty breakfast in Somalia, then went back to the Hanoi parking lot and dismantled a few cars into parts, scattering them on the ground. Only then did he brush his hands off, exit the parking lot, and give an “OK” sign toward the mangroves.

Receiving the signal, Cen Kelin immediately led the men over the wire fence and through the wooded path.

When they saw the trucks, their mouths hung open. Li Canming let out a loud “Holy crap!” The situation was indeed absurd—how could there be trucks here, and trucks that looked like they were in working order at that?

Zhou Yuanqiang’s expression didn’t change as he said, “I don’t know why they’re here either. I tinkered with them a bit, and they’re usable.”

Cen Kelin stared at Zhou Yuanqiang for a moment. Realizing it was already afternoon, he gritted his teeth and waved. “Everyone, get in. We’re moving.” He climbed into the lead truck and said to Li Canming beside him, “You’re the bait again. The bonus is 5,000 yuan. Be careful. Once we get back, you’ll be a rich man.”

Zhou Yuanqiang had actually been assigned his task before they arrived: he was the vanguard. Essentially, his job was to clear the zombies and pave a path. During the retreat, he would cover the rear and block any pursuing zombies. Given Zhou Yuanqiang’s endurance and strength as a level 9 Crystal Warrior, the mission shouldn’t be too dangerous for him.

The only thing he had to be careful of was not getting injured by the zombies, since in the eyes of Cen Kelin and the others, he wasn’t wearing battle armor.

Since he had explained to them that he was a Crystal Warrior, he couldn’t very well demonstrate explosive power without “activating.” Left with no choice, Zhou Yuanqiang pretended to take out an exciter, placed it against the back of his head, and simulated the activation of a level 9 crystal. Then… he rushed over to a nearby iron railing as thick as a man’s arm used to separate the cars, let out a roar, ripped it out of the ground, and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

Under the stunned gazes of everyone, Zhou Yuanqiang leaped onto the lead truck with Cen Kelin and said, “I don’t have much time. Let’s go!”

Cen Kelin nodded and waved his hand. “We move!”

The convoy of six trucks roared out of the parking lot. Li Canming slammed the gas pedal and sped into the lead. As they hit the street, he performed a beautiful drift, using the tail of the truck to send several zombies flying. The tires screeched as the truck surged forward.

Provoked by the stimulus, a sea of zombies began a desperate pursuit of Li Canming!

With the majority of the horde lured away, the five trucks waiting nearby started their engines and quickly sped into the street. The museum, which sat across a main boulevard at the end of the street, was only about 160 or 170 meters away. They would be there in moments.

Chapter 398: Who Can Stop Me?

The trucks Zhou Yuanqiang brought from Somalia were no ordinary trucks; they were military-grade vehicles. Their power and raw aggression far surpassed anything a standard truck could offer. Whether it was the startup or their explosive acceleration, they provided a sense of wild, visual impact.

Li Canming’s role as bait was a success, drawing in a massive number of zombies. However, this was the city center of Hanoi, and the density of the crowds had far exceeded expectations. The zombies Li Canming had lured away represented only a third of the total population. A far greater number remained, stalled by their own sheer volume. As soon as they saw the five trucks bearing down on them like mountains, they swarmed.

“Damn it all!”

It was clear that the effectiveness of the bait was far lower than Cen Kelin had anticipated. While the zombies on the street were fewer and there were now gaps between them, it wasn’t a situation where they could simply charge through as they had planned.

In a city, moving zombies often triggered a chain reaction; they would converge on the scene of an incident in a very short time. Once high-level zombies and Special Infected arrived, the resulting tide of undead would be unstoppable. Their small team would be no different from a leaf in a tsunami—a single wave would be enough to capsize them.

If they couldn’t even break through, the whole operation would become a joke. Wouldn’t this entire trip have been for nothing?

“Use the machine guns! Blast the bastards!” Cen Kelin roared, raising his rifle and knocking back a high-level zombie. Ma Jixi and the other machine gunners had already mounted their machine guns on the trucks, strafing the zombies on the street with frantic fire.

Like grass being mowed, large patches of zombies fell. Before they could even attempt to stand, the trucks had already ground them beneath their wheels.

However, the number of zombies was simply too vast. The machine gun strafing only perforated their bodies; unlike heavy machine guns, they couldn’t tear the monsters in two. The gunfire mostly served to knock them down temporarily rather than killing them outright.

A terrifying stream of corpses began pouring into the area from all directions.

Zhou Yuanqiang stood up, shouldering his massive iron rod. “Cease fire. Leave this to me. Drivers, keep up with my pace.” Without waiting for Cen Kelin’s consent, he leapt from the truck, performed a flip in mid-air, and landed directly in the middle of the zombie horde, slamming the rod down.

The force produced by the iron rod under a strength of 5,000 kilograms was unimaginable. The front row of zombies was instantly pulverized into meat paste.

In a fraction of a second, just as the zombies were beginning to reach out their hands, the veins on Zhou Yuanqiang’s arms bulged. Tremendous power drove the iron rod in a horizontal sweep. He sent over a dozen zombies on the left side of the street flying, smashing them fiercely against the buildings lining the road. With a wet thud, they were reduced to clumps of gore.

The blood and heat stirred a sense of heroic passion in Zhou Yuanqiang, and a whistle escaped his lips. Like a lion leaping into a flock of sheep, he began to annihilate the lambs beneath his claws.

Zhou Yuanqiang had never truly tested the extent of a 99-fold strength enhancement. Now that he had such a perfect opportunity to showcase it, he wasn’t going to let it pass. The iron rod in his hand was thicker than his arm, and more importantly, it was solid. At over three meters long, it was the ultimate tool for killing zombies.

Embedded in the zombie horde, Zhou Yuanqiang strode forward. A single wide swing of the iron rod could swat away a large patch of zombies. By the time they hit the ground, they were nothing but mangled corpses. The puny zombies simply couldn’t withstand that colossal force.

Whenever he encountered a car blocking the street, Zhou Yuanqiang would simply grab the chassis or the steel bumper and flip the entire vehicle over, forcefully clearing a path. It was hard to imagine how such terrifying power could be hidden beneath his lean frame.

Watching zombies being tossed into the air, their bodies hanging off roadside trees and buildings, and seeing cars flipped meters away, everyone watched with jaws ajar. They couldn’t fathom how human strength could reach such a level.

Now they were grateful to have such a terrifying figure in their team. Otherwise, this trip to Hanoi would have yielded nothing at all.

Zhou Yuanqiang’s unstoppable momentum left everyone’s blood boiling with excitement. Only now did they believe that the legends of the Crystal Warriors weren’t just propaganda from the Commercial Association to stir the public’s heart—they were real. If a single Crystal Warrior could create such a massive wave, what could dozens, hundreds, or thousands do?

The fall of a city would likely be accelerated several times over if thousands of Crystal Warriors were involved. The might of the Commercial Association once again left a deep impression on Cen Kelin and the others.

With Zhou Yuanqiang’s terrifying performance, breaking into the Hanoi History Museum was twice as easy for half the effort. Sweeping everything aside along the way, they arrived in front of the magnificent museum in just over ten minutes.

The entire team followed the pre-planned steps strictly. As soon as the trucks stopped in front of the museum, everyone jumped down. The machine gunners moved into defensive positions to hold back the zombies, while the others, led by Cen Kelin, rushed into the museum.

In the museum, eight years of neglect had stripped away its former glory. Decay was everywhere, and weeds grew in every crack.

There weren’t many wandering zombies inside the museum, only a few scattered here and there. The “pop-pop” of pistol fire took them down instantly. They advanced almost entirely over the corpses of zombies. Cen Kelin’s preparation was very thorough; with a map of the museum in hand, they headed straight for the exhibition halls containing valuables.

In the modern world, places like this would be heavily guarded with all sorts of anti-theft measures, making it nearly impossible for anyone to steal anything. The high-tech heists seen in movies were mostly just artistic dramatization. To steal from a national museum—especially those of powerful nations where every item was valued in the hundreds of millions of pounds or dollars, or were simply priceless—was virtually impossible.

But now, they could ignore all of that. The entire museum was open to the team.

Zhou Yuanqiang was quite interested in the imperial palace exhibits, but those were what Cen Kelin and his men had their eyes on. As for himself… after making an excuse, he turned toward the ceramics hall. While the items there weren’t as valuable as imperial crowns, it was perfectly normal for a single piece to sell for a million or so.

Within the team, it was impossible to hide any personal looting, as it would be obvious whether anyone was carrying extra items during the extraction.

But for Zhou Yuanqiang, this was nothing. He rushed into the ceramics hall like a starved woman at a buffet, sweeping everything inside into his storage space. To Zhou Yuanqiang, the total value of this ceramics hall was maybe ten million yuan or so—nothing he truly cared about. What he really wanted was just to mess with the Vietnamese.

Going back to the modern era to pillage the Hanoi History Museum wasn’t impossible, but it would be a bit boring. If he really wanted to do that, wouldn’t he choose the British Museum? The value there was in the tens of billions of pounds—a true treasure trove of human art and history.

After emptying the ceramics hall, he walked into the Long-term History Hall. Seeing items from the Neolithic period, Zhou Yuanqiang swung his iron rod with a vengeance. “Puny Vietnam, you call this history? I’ll smash the whole lot and see if they’re crying or laughing then.”

CRASH! SHATTER!

He went on a smashing spree, destroying the entire Long-term History Hall in moments.

Walking back to where Cen Kelin and the others were, he saw they had already packed everything remotely related to gold into their bags. Seeing Zhou Yuanqiang enter with his iron rod and remembering the time factor for a Crystal Warrior, Cen Kelin didn’t hesitate. “We’re pulling out!”

Outside the museum, the machine guns had barely stopped firing. The crates of ammunition they had brought were nearly empty.

Seeing Cen Kelin and the others emerge, Ma Jixi called out anxiously, “Boss, if you hadn’t come out now, we wouldn’t have been able to hold them! Dammit, these zombies are like crazy, they haven’t stopped lunging at us for a second. Do these Vietnamese monkeys know they’re supposed to protect their history even after turning into zombies? Damn!”

Everywhere they looked was a sea of surging zombies. Undead coming from all directions had surrounded the area.

Cen Kelin turned to Zhou Yuanqiang. “Xiao Shao, can we break through?”

Cen Kelin truly wasn’t sure. The density of zombies here was too high, and what made his skin crawl even more was that the machine gun ammunition was running low. It seemed that while they were inside the museum, the machine guns had been firing nonstop to suppress the horde. One only needed to look at the carpet of corpses in front of the museum to know how ferocious the zombies’ charge had been.

Zhou Yuanqiang maintained his smile. “Everyone on the trucks. Follow me out.”

He raised the iron rod and with a few leaps, he was upon the zombies. His rod swung without pause, smashing the zombies away. Faced with so many enemies, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t hold back. At full power, any zombie touched by the iron rod met an end of shattered bones and crushed flesh.

“Break out!”

Cen Kelin roared, no longer conserving ammo as he unleashed it upon the zombies. The firepower of several machine guns at full throttle suppressed the zombies on the other two flanks. The five trucks didn’t dare stop for a second, following closely behind Zhou Yuanqiang as they charged out.

No matter how powerful the iron rod was, it wasn’t as handy as a giant sword, and without the protection of armor, Zhou Yuanqiang didn’t dare to be too reckless with his advance. However, he had his own methods—the Gravity Manipulation he had already leveled up to Rank 5. Within the 10x gravity field, every zombie Zhou Yuanqiang approached collapsed directly onto the ground, pinned and unable to move.

He actually had even more shocking skills, but they were too conspicuous, and he didn’t want to use them. Under the effects of Gravity Manipulation, it was hard to tell what was happening. Combined with the current chaos, who could see through the mystery? They likely just assumed the zombies were being flattened by the impact of Zhou Yuanqiang’s rod.

After the distance of a single street, they had successfully broken through.

Seeing the mangrove forest, everyone felt a surge of excitement. Entering the mangroves meant this raid was a complete success. The value of their loot was enough to propel Cen Kelin into the ranks of the top-tier wealthy within the Commercial Association. The risk and the reward were perfectly proportional.

However, Zhou Yuanqiang, who was still fighting, suddenly frowned. He turned and shouted, “Boss, watch the sky! Damn it, how is there a helicopter?”

Cen Kelin was startled by Zhou Yuanqiang’s shout. He looked up but didn’t see anything at first. But a moment later, the distinctive “whirring” sound of a helicopter told him that Xiao Shao was right—a helicopter had indeed appeared.

“It has to be the Vietnamese.”

Qi Aiwen pointed his gun toward the sound. “Boss, it must be Vietnamese survivors. Damn it, why now of all times?”

Cen Kelin couldn’t worry about it anymore. “We kill whoever tries to stop us.”

They had just pillaged their national history museum. Even in the apocalypse, if it were countrymen against countrymen, they might not care as much since the pursuit of wealth was inevitable. But they were Chinese, and they had come to the Vietnamese’s territory to pillage. No one could forgive that.

The helicopter arrived quickly, appearing in the sky above a distant skyscraper.

“Damn, it’s an attack helicopter! Quick, get into the mangroves!”

Cen Kelin roared. Seeing the military-green attack helicopter in the sky, he knew that against such a war machine, his entire team was nothing. If they hid in the mangroves and the pilot decided to get ruthless, the heavy machine guns on that helicopter could spray the whole area. It was uncertain if anyone would survive.

Even worse, if the enemy destroyed their yacht, how could they return to their homeland over a distance of five hundred kilometers on foot? The swarms of zombies and the dense jungle would be an impossible barrier.

The physical differences between Vietnamese and Chinese people weren’t vast, though generally, the Vietnamese had slightly darker skin. It was hard to tell at a glance, but the details gave them away.

Clearly, the attack helicopter hadn’t come to help. From the moment it appeared, it acted aggressively. From a distance, it fired several missiles that exploded beside the trucks, blowing a large number of zombies into pieces.

The Vietnamese were certainly not helping them; it was just that their aim was poor, and they had failed to hit the trucks.

Taking advantage of the moment, Cen Kelin shouted and jumped off the truck, running for his life toward the mangroves. Staying on the truck made them a sitting duck. Just because they missed this time didn’t mean they’d miss the next. Once hit, the whole truck would turn into a fireball.

The others weren’t stupid; everyone leapt from the trucks and ran desperately for the mangroves.

The Vietnamese in the attack helicopter saw the people below trying to flee and naturally wouldn’t let them go. To them, the fact that these people had robbed the history museum was no different from a stinging slap to their faces. Even in the apocalypse, the dignity of a nation had to be upheld.

Once inside the mangrove forest, the ground was a muddy mess, making movement very difficult. In the sky was the predatory attack helicopter, while on the ground, the maddened zombies were surging through the parking lot, over the paths, and through the wire fences into the forest. They stumbled through the mud of the mangroves, chasing after Cen Kelin’s group.

The yacht had been anchored in the middle of the Red River. They couldn’t have missed the commotion, and as planned, they started the engine and began moving toward the mangroves.

The Vietnamese also spotted the yacht. They immediately abandoned the idea of strafing the mangrove forest, pulled the helicopter up, and flew toward the boat. They weren’t idiots; they knew that if they destroyed the yacht, the people in the mangroves would have no escape. They would either die at the crew’s hands or be swamped by zombies.

“Motherf*ckers! Those bastards!”

Cen Kelin cursed, but he was powerless. There was no way to deal with an attack helicopter in the sky. With the yacht being such a large target, it was obvious what would happen. One missile and there wouldn’t even be scraps left.

Staring helplessly at the helicopter, everyone knew that once the missiles were fired, it was all over. Jumping into the river wouldn’t help—a five-hundred-kilometer journey wasn’t something you could do on foot. Alone in the apocalypse, survival was impossible.

Only Zhou Yuanqiang shook his head. While no one was paying attention, he moved toward another side of the mangrove forest.

Once he was out of their line of sight, a rocket launcher appeared in his hands. He shouldered it, and the scope quickly locked onto the attack helicopter in the sky. “Meeting me is your bad luck. Go to hell!”

The rocket shot out, and in the blink of an eye, it made intimate contact with the attack helicopter.

The rest was simple. The once-aggressive attack helicopter transformed into a ball of fire in the sky, then plummeted into the Red River, vanishing beneath the surface in an instant. The people inside didn’t even have time to scream before they were swallowed by the cold river water.

Cen Kelin and the others weren’t concerned with where the rocket launcher had come from. With the sword over their heads gone, the yacht accelerated. Once it pulled close, everyone climbed aboard, heedless of the mud covering them.

As Zhou Yuanqiang nonchalantly climbed aboard last, Cen Kelin roared, “Go! Get us out of here!”

The yacht quickly pulled away from the shore. A massive number of zombies swarmed forward, roaring at the boat, diving into the water in groups. But for the departing yacht, they were no longer a threat…

Chapter 399: A Nation of Soldiers

After the entire team returned safely to Dongxing and then traveled back to Shenzhen, Zhou Yuanqiang vanished without even claiming his commission. Having discarded his disguise, the man known as Xiao Shao disappeared into the flow of history, much like the countless others who had died in the apocalypse. Unless absolutely necessary, Xiao Shao would never appear again. Cen Kelin and the others would never know his true identity.

This trip to Vietnam might have had a profound impact on Cen Kelin’s group, but for Zhou Yuanqiang, it was merely a brief excursion to clear his head, having no lasting effect on his life or duties.

Upon his return from Vietnam, Zhou Yuanqiang threw himself back into the construction and administration of the Commercial Association. There was much to be done. Despite the Commercial Association’s current smooth operation, Zhou Yuanqiang knew they were not truly prepared for the looming threat of a Third World War.

The Commercial Association, now boasting a population of over seventeen million, had only recently migrated to the coast. Their grain reserves could only sustain them for a year. Once war broke out, food would become the absolute priority. You can send a soldier into battle without a rifle or bullets if you must, but you cannot expect them to fight without food and water to sustain their basic existence.

Securing food for the soldiers was not enough; the common people were the water that floated the Association’s ship. Only with their support could this vessel sail steadily across the turbulent waves, traveling further and lasting longer. The Northern General had fallen precisely because of a grain shortage. Otherwise, according to the General Staff’s projections, it would have taken at least six months and over a hundred thousand casualties to bring him down.

The importance of food outweighed everything else, no matter the era.

Beyond grain, the Commercial Association’s ammunition reserves were also severely lacking. They had enough for local skirmishes, but for a high-intensity, total war? Their current stock wouldn’t last long. Even though the Association was dedicated to expanding its military industry, one could only expect so much progress in a mere two months.

While food and ammunition were logistical concerns, the Association also had to deal with an army that had expanded to a million soldiers after absorbing the North, many of whom were still in training.

The development of the Commercial Association could be described as changing with each passing day. This didn’t refer to the economy, but rather to the military. By gathering all the elites of the Association and pouring unlimited resources into research and development, technological breakthroughs were being achieved one after another. Specifically, the emergence of crystal fission technology and increasingly sophisticated crystal energy release techniques were simplifying many complex problems.

Looking at the impact of crystals on human society, they were proving to be more vital than oil. Zhou Yuanqiang even worried about what the world would look like if the crystals were ever exhausted. Fortunately, Huang Changnian, the head of the Crystal Research Institute, had made breakthrough progress in studying crystal structures—a small piece of comforting news.

Oil extraction continued to power the entire Commercial Association, but storage levels had never managed to increase.

Furthermore, after the move to the coast, Lenghu was simply too far away. The excessively long supply lines placed immense pressure on oil transport. Even using transport airships, which were faster than rail, a round trip over the nearly 4,000-kilometer distance took close to a week, accounting for weather conditions.

What did a week mean?

If the oil transport fleet consisted of two hundred airships, each with a 200-ton capacity, the volume of oil they could carry would only sustain the Commercial Association for exactly one week. That entire fleet of two hundred airships merely guaranteed daily operations; if any special circumstances arose, the supply would fail to meet demand.

Considering the fragility of transport airships, who could guarantee the fleet wouldn’t be attacked? To a fighter jet, a transport airship was nothing more than a floating target; one or two missiles could send it straight to hell.

And considering an airship’s manufacturing cost—tens of millions of dollars—who wouldn’t feel the sting of such a loss?

Therefore, in the eyes of the Commercial Association, oil should not be a limiting factor. They could not rely solely on the oil from Lenghu. To relieve the pressure, reopening the Daqing Oil Field was a certainty, and several dormant offshore oil wells were also slated for reactivation.

But even that wasn’t enough. The Association’s military strength was far too dependent on oil. Except for The Chairman, The Sky super aerial aircraft carriers, and the Starry Sky, which utilized crystal fission power, most of the fleet—including the Bird’s Nest aerial carriers and numerous fighter jets, bombers, and helicopters—ran on fuel.

Consider the HY-3 third-generation fighter jet: every time it took off, at least half a ton of fuel was consumed. The Commercial Association possessed 3,500 units across the HY-1, HY-2, and HY-3 series. This created a staggering logistics problem. Furthermore, with thousands of attack helicopters and a tank corps of fifteen hundred vehicles, the military was a collection of literal gas guzzlers.

The Association’s technology had not yet shrunk the crystal fission devices enough to install them in fighter jets or tanks.

If it weren’t for the appearance of the Starry Sky, the HY-4—the Association’s fourth-generation fighter—might not have been canceled a third of the way through its development. The Starry Sky represented a new height in humanity’s mastery of the skies, opening a brand-new door.

Because crystal fission devices couldn’t be miniaturized, the development of aerial weaponry was forced toward the massive and the gargantuan. The six super engines used to maintain the Starry Sky’s balance were each larger than a standard fighter jet; there was no way to mount them on a small aircraft.

Of course, nothing was absolute. The Commercial Association had proposed using a single super engine as a levitation and balance system. If this research succeeded, a new type of fighter, roughly the size of a strategic bomber, would emerge to replace the current models.

The Aircraft Design Bureau had already confirmed a design for a new fourth-generation fighter that shared some similarities with the British Harrier Jump Jet.

However, as a fourth-generation fighter for the Commercial Association, equipped with a super engine, its performance would leave the Harrier far behind. It would use a single super engine for vertical lift and descent, with the entire aircraft designed around this central core. Two ramjet engines, similar to those on the HY-3 but twice as powerful, would be mounted on the tail to provide propulsion.

In terms of appearance, it looked as if the wings behind the cockpit had been transformed into a circular disk, while the tail remained similar to a standard fighter. Its dimensions were comparable to a strategic bomber. Yet, like an airship, it could hover in the air and take off or land freely anywhere.

This unnamed fourth-generation fighter was essentially an enhanced combat craft, a transitional bridge between standard jets and the massive aerial warships like the Starry Sky.

While air power ascended, investment in the Army began to be scaled back. Tanks were still being manufactured, but at a rate that was practically a halt—only three units per week, just enough to meet Zhou Yuanqiang’s requirements for modern Somalia. In fact, those three tanks a week were being shipped directly to modern Somalia. The Association’s own tank fleet would be maintained at fifteen hundred units, with around a thousand armored vehicles.

With the strengthening of the Air Force and the appearance of Cloud-class aerial warships, the Navy seemed to have lost its purpose.

Since the reclamation of the coast, only a third of the original mainland naval fleet remained after eight years of neglect. Even that third required extensive repairs due to age. The submarine force, in particular, had effectively ceased to exist; aside from a few vessels docked at bases, the rest had vanished.

The Navy’s only reason for existence was the vast ocean and a coastline longer than one could imagine.

But now, with crystal fission energy and super engines, a Cloud-class aerial warship could theoretically hover in the sky for over a year on a single refueling. This kind of endurance could completely replace the need for a navy. In the future, the ocean would only be used by transport ships; eventually, even maritime transport would disappear from the seas.

This was an inevitable trend, an irreversible historical development driven by technology.

The apocalypse could be seen as a new Age of Discovery—an era of the unknown that served as a paradise for adventurers. Simultaneously, it was a promised land for merchants, with unimaginable wealth hidden in every corner. Forging ahead from the modern era, this post-apocalyptic world had developed a brand-new style of civilization with powerful industrial capabilities and bustling cities.

From the rise of Zombie Hunters to the current “Hunters,” it was clear that the spirit of adventure was etched into human bones.

You could say a Zombie Hunter chose that profession because of the pressures of survival. But “Hunters” and “Zombie Hunters” were two entirely different concepts. Hunters were more akin to explorers; to a certain extent, the roles even overlapped.

The explorer profession had a three-and-a-half-year history, dating back to when the Association reclaimed Qingyuan City.

Looking at their contributions, the department that produced the most medals in the Commercial Association was the Hunting Department. To put it somewhat hyperbolically: once you became an explorer, getting a medal was as easy as picking one up at home. While an exaggeration, it spoke to how highly sought-after the profession was.

Even though the Hunter profession had become standardized, its nature made earning medals much harder than for explorers.

As an emerging profession, no one knew for sure if it was a good or bad thing. But after Zhou Yuanqiang returned from Vietnam, he vigorously promoted the “Hunter” career. His reasoning at the meetings was simple: for a nation to be strong, it must show strength not only in its economy but in the quality of its citizens.

Hunting was a dangerous profession, but it was also one that trained people. Every successful Hunter was an excellent soldier. While their existence might pose a high threat to public order, it undeniably achieved the goal of making every citizen a soldier.

When the time came, the Commercial Association only needed to issue a call to arms, and they could immediately transform seventeen million people into at least ten million soldiers. What kind of terrifying concept was that? It represented more than just human sea tactics; it was an impregnable fortress. Any enemy entering the mainland would find themselves trapped in an endless people’s war, never knowing from which corner a fatal bullet might fly.

The old saying goes: “One man is a dragon, but a group is a mere worm.”

Zhou Yuanqiang believed that the Commercial Association, as a new state machine, should not try to suppress people’s nature but rather guide it. By guiding the people, they could become a massive asset to the Association. Through the Hunter profession, the populace could maintain a high level of combat readiness, ready to be converted into soldiers at a moment’s notice.

The Association had been researching spy satellites for over a year, but they still had a way to go before mastering the technology. Reverse-engineering was underway, but they were still six months away from a launch. Consequently, the Association’s grasp of the international situation was currently limited and insufficient for full strategic planning.

However, the dual professions of explorer and Hunter could provide the Association with all the intelligence it needed.

Take Cen Kelin’s team, for example. While they couldn’t confirm the exact situation in Vietnam, they knew for certain that there were human survivors near Hanoi. That alone was enough. When necessary, the Association could reposition a satellite to monitor that area specifically. They wouldn’t have to worry about missing the survivors’ settlement.

The Commercial Association could not act like the empires of the colonial era, looting, killing, and committing atrocities. Such actions would only spark local resistance. What the Association needed to do was find people and find ways to lure them in. Only if there was absolutely no other way would force and war be the final resort.

Although the Commercial Association seemed peaceful with its people well-fed and clothed, in this post-apocalyptic world, countless others were still struggling for survival, facing the constant threat of zombie attacks. Against this backdrop, the Association could appear as a savior, rescuing them from despair and then conveniently migrating them into Association-controlled territory, achieving the ultimate goal of population acquisition.

When dealing with organized governments, if diplomacy worked, then all was well. If there was a conflict of interest, then unfortunately, the world order had already collapsed. What could not be gained at the negotiating table would be taken through war.

The entire Commercial Association realized this: the current peace was only temporary. The tree craves stillness, but the wind does not cease. Zhou Yuanqiang did not believe that nations possessing high technology and superior military power would simply let the Association develop unchecked. A massive population was the gold of the apocalypse… and it represented infinite potential for growth.

Underpopulated nations, if they didn’t wage war to seize people while a technological gap still existed, would find themselves at a disadvantage as time passed. They would be caught up to, surpassed, and eventually trampled underfoot, becoming slave states.

Since this was inevitable, Zhou Yuanqiang’s strategy was to let the fire burn even hotter.

The “Hunters” were the first step. By developing a massive reservoir of war potential and letting them step out of the country first to seek their own fortunes, they could hinder the unification and development of other nations and destroy vital facilities they encountered.

To reward the successes of the Hunters, the Hunting Department had officially submitted a report to the Association Council regarding medal rewards for outstanding contributions. According to the proposal, any Hunter who destroyed an enemy facility listed as a priority by the Association would receive a Hunter’s Medal, ranging from Level 5 to Level 1.

For a citizen of the Commercial Association, a medal represented more than just honor; it meant privilege. It was something every citizen obsessed over. Those who possessed one were universally respected and enjoyed an array of welfare benefits so generous they would make others green with envy.

It was foreseeable that once the report was approved, it would be an irresistible lure for the Hunters. These critical facilities would become their primary targets. Other nations possessing such infrastructure would soon find themselves in deep trouble, as they would be watched by Hunters day and night.

From the moment Zhou Yuanqiang began pushing for the development of the Hunters, their “springtime” had finally arrived.

A large number of decommissioned military weapons found their way into the hands of the Hunters, enabling them to venture deeper into unknown territories. Consequently, in the border regions, groups of Hunters could be seen everywhere. They left the borders, entering countries like Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, and Myanmar. Some even piloted sea vessels to Indonesia, Singapore, and the Philippines to begin their careers.

Others organized into massive hunting teams and set out toward the East Sea, heading for neighboring regions like North Korea, South Korea, and Japan.

Locations like Russia, Bangladesh, and India were currently beyond the reach of most Hunters’ capabilities. To provide them with longer range and greater combat power, military airships that were entering the decommissioning phase were made available for purchase by recognized Hunter teams.

The price was a staggering one million Rainbow Coins, yet as soon as the news was announced, seventy teams immediately submitted applications.

In just half a month, the Association processed the applications and announced the names of the teams that had been granted a military airship. Because these airships had been modified and utilized the military’s intelligent systems, ultimate control remained in the hands of the Commercial Association’s military. This meant the teams had the right to use them, but not final authority. This effectively ensured that these airships would never be used against the Commercial Association.

Should any such signs appear, the Association could immediately exercise its ultimate control to seize the airship.

This regulation was perfectly acceptable to the Hunter teams, as their goal was not to oppose the Association, but to better realize their own value and growth. Furthermore, using a snail-paced military airship to fight the Association—given their screaming-fast fighter jets—would just be turning themselves into a target. No one in their right mind would do such a thing.

As soon as the handovers were complete, the prepared teams set off. One group headed toward Bangladesh and India, while another moved toward Inner Mongolia, eventually entering developing regions like Afghanistan.

Chapter 400: The Temptation of a Pig’s Head

Military airship No. 405 glided slowly through the high altitude, its massive seven-colored umbrella shimmering under the sunlight.

From a distance, it looked like any other military airship belonging to the Chamber of Commerce. However, a closer look revealed a distinct difference. On its hundred-meter-long gasbag, just beneath the seven-colored umbrella, was a printed image of a purple vine.

Anyone who received the news would know that while this airship once belonged to the Chamber of Commerce’s air force, it was now the armed force of a private team. The seven-colored umbrella was a sacred symbol that could not be removed from the airships; therefore, the teams that acquired these vessels could only distinguish themselves by printing their team emblems beneath the umbrella.

Some chose to print them on the nose of the airship or underneath the gondola as well.

Within the entire Chamber of Commerce, Hunter teams were required to register with the Hunting Department. Approval was necessary before a team could be officially established. This registration process was similar to setting up a company, requiring detailed information on all team members, weapons, specialized skills, and even the team’s emblem.

Strictly speaking, the personnel of the Chamber of Commerce had evolved from the former government. The Mainland was once known as one of the safest countries in the world, primarily because its policies did not allow civilians to own firearms. The crackdown on illegal weapons had been extremely severe. There was no need to guess the reasons behind it, but the Chamber of Commerce had at least inherited this trait—ordinary residents were not allowed to possess guns.

Zombie Hunters were registered, making them, in a sense, a department under the control of the Chamber of Commerce.

However, the armed strength of a “Hunter” was much greater than that of a “Zombie Hunter.” Consequently, it would be a lie to say the Chamber of Commerce didn’t take them seriously. They were naturally cautious, striving to keep these groups under their control. To this end, the Chamber of Commerce had established Hunter armories on the outskirts of their governed territories specifically to manage the Hunters’ weapons; they were not allowed to carry firearms into the interior cities ruled by the Chamber of Commerce.

As the captain of military airship No. 405 and the leader of the Purple Vine team, Qiao Liying had plenty of reasons to be proud.

Among the sixty teams in the entire Chamber of Commerce that possessed military airships, she was the only female commander—a legend in her own right. Most people’s first impression of someone who led a team through such chaotic times was that of a burly, rough individual. Qiao Liying was quite the opposite; while not exactly a classic beauty, she had very delicate features, a tall and sexy figure, and marksmanship like a divine sharpshooter.

As a powerhouse woman of the apocalypse, she didn’t use roses, lilies, or violets for her team emblem. Instead, she chose a purple vine, which spoke to her unique character—something that couldn’t be understood through ordinary logic.

While other teams that had obtained the rights to use military airships were busy preparing, Qiao Liying had already taken her Purple Vine team and flown from Shenzhen toward Yunnan. The reason she was ahead of the others was simple: she didn’t need to apply for ammunition allocations or double-check her weapon inventories.

There were 100 members on the airship, and their weapons had long been registered and verified. Qiao Liying hadn’t replenished their ammunition because she believed the rounds they currently held were enough for this excursion. Besides, the military airship itself possessed formidable firepower, so there was no need to worry about safety.

The Purple Vine team was half women and half men—an unusually high proportion of women compared to other teams.

But that didn’t matter, because Qiao Liying’s rise wasn’t based solely on combat; it was a combination of wisdom and ability that had brought her to this position. To be precise, she wasn’t leaving the Chamber of Commerce’s territory as a Hunter this time, but as a merchant.

The vice-commander of Purple Vine was also a woman, Qiao Liying’s most capable lieutenant. An Daixi was nearly forty, a woman with exceptional management skills. The fact that the Purple Vine team had reached its current state was inseparable from her efforts. It could be said that without her, there would be no Purple Vine today.

The two stood in the cockpit, which doubled as their command center, looking down at the endless mountains and the villages that occasionally appeared among the ridges, filled with a sense of melancholy.

“Commander, why are we heading toward Myanmar instead of other regions?”

An Daixi had always been responsible for managing the team, while combat matters were handled by Qiao Liying. But who would have thought that this usually hands-off commander would suddenly lead the entire hunting team through a magnificent transformation, turning them into what was essentially a merchant caravan?

In An Daixi’s view, this form of international trade wasn’t nearly as profitable as hunting. Given that they had been able to buy this military airship worth a million Rainbow Coins after just a few successful hunts, one could see how wealthy hunting teams could be.

Qiao Liying smiled and said, “Sister An, it’s true that Hunters can get rich quick, but have you considered how long we can sustain that? You know the risks involved better than anyone—every mission results in heavy casualties. And those are losses suffered while facing zombies. What if we face surviving humans from other countries, all of whom possess firearms? What then?”

An Daixi agreed. Some survivor settlements were massive, far beyond what a single team could handle. Moreover, taking things from a zombie-infested city was called scavenging; taking things from a human settlement was called slaughter and pillaging. There was a fundamental difference in nature.

“Don’t be fooled by the Chamber of Commerce currently being in a military-ready state. They will eventually go back to their old ways, using economic warfare to dissolve the resistance of these settlements. We are simply staying one step ahead of them. Once the machine of the Chamber of Commerce starts moving and hundreds of transport ships are deployed, do you think we’ll still have a chance?”

Qiao Liying knew her analysis might surprise her partner, but it was the truth. The Chamber of Commerce couldn’t simply wage direct war against survivors in other countries. While that might achieve their goals, it would breed resistance. Economic warfare was different; it was a slow infiltration until the other party could no longer resist the Chamber’s influence. By then, the resistance from bringing the survivors together would be far smaller.

While other airships filled their bomb bays with aerial bombs, the bomb bay of No. 405—which Qiao Liying had christened the Purple Vine—had been modified. Twenty freezers were lined up inside, filled with precious meat, a rarity in the apocalypse.

In the Chamber of Commerce, meat wasn’t considered incredibly rare; it was just slightly harder to come by than in normal times and could be supplied regularly.

However, just because the Chamber could supply it didn’t mean other countries were as lucky. They were still struggling on the brink of death, where survival itself was their greatest effort, let alone luxury items like meat. It was foreseeable that the twenty slaughtered pigs in those freezers would drive them into a frenzy.

There was no order to speak of in the apocalypse. Qiao Liying’s previous stint as a Hunter was merely to acquire the massive capital needed to build a more complete team and conduct international trade. The sale of military airships had undoubtedly given her a broader stage and the opportunity to undertake this high-risk international commerce.

The powerful weaponry of the military airship was the guarantee of their safety during these transactions, ensuring they wouldn’t be swallowed whole by others.

After a day and a night of travel, the military airship appeared at the border of Yunnan and Myanmar in the early morning. Below them was the county seat of Fugong. From the airship, the Nujiang River looked like a silver snake slithering through the great mountain ranges.

Once past Fugong, they would enter a vast, mountainous region stretching nearly 500 kilometers—a natural border between the two countries. The area was sparsely populated; one might not see a single village for a hundred kilometers. In the past, this was a place of wild beasts and natural perils, where the primordial jungle made it impossible to cross by land.

Remote county seats like Fugong had naturally not been reclaimed yet and were still occupied by zombies. It was their kingdom.

Unless something unexpected happened, it was unlikely anyone would come to reclaim this place. The county seat would simply be left to decay until it was eventually reclaimed by the jungle. The zombies inside would gradually die off over the years, and the area would finally become part of the primordial forest once more. If lucky, perhaps a century later, humans would set foot here again. As for development, that would depend on human population growth; otherwise, if humanity conducted a total purge and redistributed its population, there would be no need to develop such a rugged mountain region.

As the military airship flew over Fugong, the zombies below still noticed the behemoth in the sky, causing a wave of commotion.

The airship crossed the Nujiang River and officially entered the endless mountain valleys. From here, it was still over a hundred kilometers into Myanmar. After crossing the national border, it would take another few hundred kilometers to clear this mountain range and reach inhabited areas of Myanmar. but this wasn’t Qiao Liying’s destination. The airship continued westward.

It would be at least another day and night before they reached the area where Qiao Liying estimated survivors would be.

In truth, this was a gamble. She was betting that within central Myanmar—the area she was heading toward—there were a large number of survivors. Based on her understanding of Myanmar’s geography, Qiao Liying had considered her choice for a long time. Even if she lost the bet, it didn’t matter; they could cross from Myanmar into India or even reach Bangladesh.

Even if her luck were worse and they still didn’t find anyone, they could choose to leave Bangladesh and re-enter India from the west. With India’s massive population, it was impossible for there to be no survivors; it was just a question of how many.

It wasn’t that Qiao Liying didn’t want to go straight to a populous country like India, but it was a matter of safety. Myanmar’s former military strength wasn’t that powerful, and its air power was average at best; in the apocalypse, the naturally occurring threats would be much smaller, favoring a military airship. However, a quasi-military power like India had such vast military strength that the probability of survivors having access to fighter jets and other heavy weapons was much higher.

Entering India would be a last resort.

The journey was smooth for another day and night. After checking the maps and calculating the airship’s position, it was confirmed that they had arrived near Kyaukgu, about 200 kilometers from Mandalay—a city completely surrounded by mountains.

Myanmar is primarily composed of rugged mountainous terrain with few plains. The north-central region is almost entirely mountains. Before the apocalypse, it was a key part of the Golden Triangle, playing a less-than-savory role. The proportion of drugs it exported to the world was enormous, and it had long been a pillar among drug-exporting nations.

The complex terrain was Myanmar’s best shield; generally, no one bothered with this country.

Qiao Liying clearly remembered that before the apocalypse, Myanmar’s population had surged from 40 million in 1988 to 54 million. Based on ratios, out of those 54 million, there should be at least two to three million survivors. Even accounting for those who died over the past eight years, a figure of around two million was a reasonable estimate.

Twenty pigs might seem like a lot, but for people who had been starving for eight years, it wasn’t even enough to fill the gaps between their teeth. The main issue was that the team didn’t have enough capital left to purchase more pigs. The value of twenty pigs was already a substantial sum of money.

“No. 405, activate the scouting system…”

Following the command, the No. 405 intelligent system went to work. It would serve as the lookout, responsible for searching for any potential settlements. For an intelligent system with powerful computing capabilities, this was not a difficult task. Its scanning ability was far beyond what any human could manage.

The Purple Vine military airship passed over Kyaukgu. It didn’t fly in a straight line but instead used Mandalay as a center point to circle an area with a circumference of over 100 kilometers. Qiao Liying’s ultimate goal was Mandalay, the major city of central Myanmar. The entire central region was developed around Mandalay. One-third of Myanmar’s population lived there, and survivors generally existed roughly two to three hundred kilometers outside the high-density zombie zones.

Flying south from Kyaukgu, after two and a half hours, the city of Indaw entered the airship’s scouting range.

“Target detected!”

The cold, mechanical voice of the intelligent system sounded like music to Qiao Liying’s ears.

A target as massive as a military airship couldn’t be hidden. Although the intelligent system detected the Indaw settlement first, the Myanmar people on watch in Indaw also spotted the Purple Vine in the sky. Piercing sirens wailed, and squads of armed personnel emerged from the town.

Under Qiao Liying’s orders, the Purple Vine began to descend. On a peninsula by a lake about five or six kilometers from Indaw, she dropped off An Daixi and five physically imposing soldiers. The airship then ascended again, stopping only when it reached an altitude of a thousand meters.

The airship had an independent command system with very strong communication capabilities. An Daixi and the others carried communicators and could maintain contact with the airship at all times, allowing those on board to monitor every movement on the ground and make the right choices.

There was no shortage of cars in the apocalypse. Indaw could only be considered a small city, so it wasn’t surprising that it could be reclaimed by the local Burmese people. Looking at the cities along the way, almost all were ruled by zombies, proving that these survivors could only protect themselves; expecting them to reclaim all their cities was giving them too much credit.

Among the vehicles rushing toward them, besides two sedans, there were seven trucks filled with armed men carrying guns. Through her binoculars, An Daixi could see them clearly. Their clothes were a mishmash of styles with no uniform, and their firearms were equally varied. They looked like a motley crew. However, An Daixi knew that to underestimate them was to push herself into an abyss. In the apocalypse, there were no weak soldiers. These were all people who had experienced life and death countless times; they were the toughest of warriors.

The distance was only five or six kilometers, and there was a connected dirt road, so the trucks quickly arrived near An Daixi.

The men jumped off the trucks, clutching their guns, and surrounded An Daixi’s group in an instant. Perhaps wary of the small black dot in the sky that was the military airship, they didn’t open fire immediately. In this apocalypse, as long as it wasn’t zombies, the appearance of other survivors was a surprising event.

Once the scene was controlled, a heavily bearded man stepped out of one of the sedans. Holding a pistol, he looked at An Daixi and the five others, then glanced up at the sky, shouting in Burmese, “Who are you? Where did you come from?”

An Daixi’s Burmese was only mediocre. She could barely understand him and replied in her rusty Burmese, “China. We are Chinese.”

Hearing they were Chinese, the atmosphere grew tense again. The surrounding men stared intently at An Daixi. They weren’t unfamiliar with Chinese people, but the problem was that this was the apocalypse—how did Chinese people end up here? Had they been wiped out by zombies and fled to this place?

The bearded man hesitated for a moment before asking, “What happened to you?”

Myanmar and the Mainland didn’t have any ancient blood feuds. They weren’t exactly friendly, but they weren’t enemies either; they generally minded their own business. The bearded man had no interest in cursing them, but the survival of people from other countries was none of their concern. Staying alive themselves was the most important thing.

An Daixi didn’t say much. First, she gestured to show they were unarmed, then she had someone open a bag they had brought down from the airship. She revealed a pig’s head and gestured, saying, “Meat. We are here to sell meat.”

At the sight of the pig’s head, which didn’t look very peaceful in death, the eyes of every Burmese man present, including the bearded leader, immediately lit up with a golden light. It was as if, in their eyes, that pig’s head had already been roasted golden-brown and placed on a dining table, waiting for them to dig in.

The sound of people gulping echoed as the Burmese men, who hadn’t seen meat in eight years, looked as if they wanted to charge forward and swallow the pig’s head at An Daixi’s feet whole.

Chapter 401: Escort and Safeguard

Qiao Liying had succeeded. Twenty hogs had been exchanged for a profit of over thirty times the cost.

The primary reasons for such success were, first, the extreme scarcity of meat, and second, the fact that an Explorer had already reached the Indaw settlement. Because of these two factors, no unpleasantness occurred between the two parties. Instead, each took what they needed, completing this post-apocalyptic cross-border trade.

Qiao Liying was currently congratulating herself on her cleverness. Had she waited, a settlement like this that was already on the records would surely have become a site for the Commercial Association to establish a formal trade post. When that happened, how could she have possibly intervened? Before this, she never imagined that the Explorers’ reach was so long that they could discover a settlement like this.

Qiao Liying suddenly realized that the Commercial Association was not as simple as it appeared on the surface. Fearing the implications, she suspected the Association already possessed data on the settlements, power distributions, military strength, and populations of all the surrounding countries. Every time she thought of this, she felt a chill of dread, but also a sense of relief that she was a member of the Association. Take Indaw, for example; fifty thousand people lived there, yet they were likely already recorded by the Association. They could be forced to submit to the Association’s military might at any moment, living with a literal sword of Damocles hanging over their heads.

In truth, Qiao Liying was not wrong. Consider that the profession of Explorer had existed for a full three and a half years. From initially focusing on the domestic front to later expanding abroad, the twenty thousand graduated Explorers had spent the last year and a half treading over every inch of the surrounding countries, recording every settlement they discovered.

For a Commercial Association with international ambitions, the emphasis on surrounding areas had also led to the creation of many Exploration Medals, used to reward Explorers who made outstanding contributions.

It wasn’t just small countries like Myanmar; Asian nations like Vietnam, Thailand, and Laos all bore the footprints of these Explorers. They were like pioneers, the first group of people to set foot in these countries during the apocalypse. Some were received with friendship, while others slept forever in these foreign settlements. Some barbaric settlements even killed the Association’s Explorers and seized their exploration airships.

Regarding these incidents, the Commercial Association had previously focused all its energy on reclaiming the mainland and had taken no measures against those settlements.

But now, the Commercial Association had entered a period of stability. With the relocation complete, industry established, the economy structured, and the new post-apocalyptic society stabilized, the Association could gradually turn its attention elsewhere. To the Commercial Association, the Seven-Colored Umbrella represented protection and safety—freedom from harm. The fact that some of the murdered Explorers were even recipients of the Exploration Medal gave the Association more than enough reason to strike back.

For friendly settlements, the Association’s methods remained primarily economic. For those with a criminal record, however, the Association would show absolutely no mercy.

Qiao Liying’s trade activities could not possibly escape the notice of the Association’s Intelligence Department. However, as Zhou Yuanqiang saw it, the Association had never issued any laws regarding this. Her actions were legal and would not be subject to sanctions. Moreover, the Association was already preparing its own trade exports to other explored countries, which would naturally dissolve private trading ventures in due time.

When the offshore oil wells were not yet operational, more than half of the Association’s transport airships were used for aerial fuel transport. The remaining minority served as the logistics line between the Association’s fifteen cities. They didn’t just transport goods; they were also converted into aerial passenger routes, replacing fuel-thirsty airliners and serving alongside the railways as the backbone of the transportation network.

To conduct international trade, it was clear that the Commercial Association did not have enough transport airships available.

Of the countries surrounding the mainland, only a few had given rise to new regimes; most were still in a state of chaos. With over a hundred settlements scattered about, the Association would need at least over two hundred transport airships to guarantee the establishment of a comprehensive trade network.

Airships, being such slow targets, had always been a sensitive topic for the Commercial Association. The airship factories had already ceased production of military and transport airships, currently only manufacturing small transport airships for inter-city travel and engineering airships. To establish these hundred-plus trade routes, they would have to restart the closed airship factories once again.

The Commercial Association hesitated on this issue, unsure if it was truly necessary.

During the meetings, many people argued back and forth without reaching a decision. In Zhou Yuanqiang’s view, however, there was nothing to argue about. His opinion was to design an entirely new model of transport airship. It needed powerful cargo capacity, excellent troop transport capabilities, and defensive firepower that was not weak.

In the Age of Discovery, pure merchant ships would be escorted by warships to form a convoy. However, most people couldn’t afford to maintain escort warships. Thus, the armed merchant ship was born. While its military power couldn’t compare to a dedicated warship, it possessed the ability to fight back. In fact, powerful armed merchant ships were far superior to small warships.

The Commercial Association had “armed airships” too, but they were all just transport airships with weapons tacked on; they weren’t armed transport airships in the true sense.

According to Zhou Yuanqiang’s vision, the new armed transport airship would be equipped with radar, a significant number of short-to-medium range missiles, and autocannons. By installing an intelligent system, its combat effectiveness could be increased exponentially. With the ship covered in short-to-medium range missiles, any enemy aircraft caught on radar would receive an unforgettable missile baptism. Given the staggering carrying capacity of an airship, there were no hard limits on the number of missiles it could carry.

If the design could meet the vision, the combat power of an armed transport airship would certainly not be inferior to a fighter jet.

After receiving the design task from the Association, it took only half a month for this armed transport airship to be successfully designed. Its envelope reached 315 meters, slightly longer than the first and second-generation transport airships. Its carrying capacity was increased by 100 tons, reaching a staggering 300 tons. Not only that, but it utilized a five-layer gondola design. Its passenger capacity actually broke 1,500 people.

It was powerful airship design capabilities, terrifying manufacturing capacity, and mature technology that finally realized these breakthrough requirements.

Without a doubt, even though it was only one-third the length of a Hercules transport airship, the new armed transport airship surpassed the Hercules in troop capacity, excluding cargo weight. The strength of their technology was displayed vividly here; no one would have expected such a massive technological leap in just three short years.

Zhou Yuanqiang was quite shocked himself when he saw the final design blueprints, and it gave him another idea.

The Association’s troop deployment capabilities weren’t exactly overwhelming. While they could use a large number of transport airships to deploy 100,000 soldiers to a battlefield at once, the cost was high. It required at least a hundred transport airships and hundreds of fighter jets for escort. The speed difference between the two types of aircraft was too great, and every escort mission was a nightmare for the air force.

Based on current airship technology, they could completely design and manufacture an airship exclusively for troop transport.

Once Zhou Yuanqiang gave this instructions to the Airship Design Bureau, a new troop transport airship was soon presented to him. Its length was similar to the Hercules transport airship, reaching 966 meters. All its parameters exceeded Zhou Yuanqiang’s expectations. As a troop transport airship, it was more than sufficient.

Once the orders for the armed airships were placed, the First Airship Factory, which had relocated from Qingyuan City, and the Second Airship Factory from Tianzhou City were immediately restarted.

Thanks to the massive natural gas reserves at Lenghu and the numerous helium plants established there, the manufacturing of airships didn’t have to worry about helium supply. Within the first week of the order, the two factories delivered ten armed transport airships to the armory for weapon installation.

The Commercial Association couldn’t wait for over a hundred armed transport airships to be finished before starting international trade penetration. As soon as the first batch of ten was outfitted at the armory and passed a week of testing, they were immediately put into service. The first ten routes would mainly focus on four countries: Bangladesh, Bhutan, Nepal, and Myanmar.

Bangladesh, in particular, had a population of 200 million before the apocalypse, and the number of survivors was quite considerable. Its governance was split into northern and southern regions. If it weren’t for the extreme density of zombies, Bangladesh would likely have already reclaimed the entire country and entered a civil war for unification.

A unified regime was clearly not what the Commercial Association wanted to see. As the weaker side, the Northern regime was naturally given secret assistance by the Association to prevent it from falling too quickly to the Southern regime, as that would significantly impact the Association’s future strategies. Although they secretly aided the North, the Association showed no bias in trade, exchanging large quantities of daily necessities for gold and the rare metals the Association required.

The Association’s meat products weren’t just pork; they had also begun providing large quantities of mutton and beef from their growing livestock industry. Especially with seafood, the massive fishing fleets they established continuously pulled fish from the ocean. Using storage technology, as long as the transport was timely, the fish would still be fresh and kicking even when they arrived in completely landlocked countries like Bhutan.

The few fish remaining in lakes had long since been caught. Being able to catch a fish in a lake was a very lucky event, meaning one could enjoy a rare delicous meal. For survivors living near lakes, such a day would be a day of bliss; with even better luck, they might eat fish once every week or two.

However, the survivors living in the mountains were not so lucky. They could find almost no trace of wild animals, but they frequently encountered biochemical beasts. Under these circumstances, meat was an absolute luxury. Some people hadn’t even smelled meat for years.

It was this predicament that led the Association’s marketing department to believe that sending meat would be more effective than anything else.

This foreseeable frenzy was something the Association naturally needed to guard against. With the collapse of order in the apocalypse, who knew if a seemingly non-hostile settlement would suddenly be triggered by a massive shipment of meat and launch an attack on the trade caravan? No one could guarantee it wouldn’t happen.

To instill fear in the settlements they were about to visit, the Association naturally needed to demonstrate some power. They provided a heavy military escort for the first trade caravan, sending a signal: the Commercial Association was fully capable of destroying an entire settlement. Anyone who dared to target the trade airships should prepare to face the Association’s wrath.

Stationed in the Southern Military Region, the aerial carrier The Chairman bypassed Yunnan Province at a cruising speed of 80 kilometers per hour, entered India from northern Myanmar, crossed East India, and entered northeastern Bangladesh. The city of Shaistaganj in the northeast was entirely in the hands of survivors. Because it was a key passage connecting the northeast to central Bangladesh, it was frequently attacked by zombies from all directions.

The survivors here were relatively friendly.

The Explorer who discovered Shaistaganj was number 116 from the first graduating class. For this, he was awarded a Second-Class Exploration Medal by the Intelligence Department.

Shaistaganj’s population wasn’t considered large compared to settlements that numbered in the hundreds of thousands, consisting of only sixty to seventy thousand people. This number far exceeded Shaistaganj’s pre-apocalyptic population, showing how the end of the world had made this place flourish. Being in a plain area, the land wasn’t particularly fertile, but it had the advantage of allowing large-scale farming, so they didn’t have to worry about starving.

The expanded Shaistaganj still retained its former scenery of being surrounded by forests; the people living here felt as if they were in a resort.

Only their clothing and mental state betrayed them. Pre-apocalypse Bangladesh wasn’t even considered a developing country, and the arrival of the apocalypse had destroyed everything. The people gathered here were chronically short of clothing. Additionally, high defensive walls protected the entire city, allowing them to resist when zombies attacked.

For the survivors of Shaistaganj, the most painful thing was large-scale zombie migrations. When they moved, they would trample and destroy vast amounts of crops, causing massive grain shortages. During a stroke of bad luck, the harvest wouldn’t even be enough to last until the next season.

In the past two years, zombie attacks had become rare. This was mainly because zombies had been continuously eliminated over the years, making them scarce in the surrounding areas. It would take a very long time for a small group of zombies to gather, so they no longer posed a threat to Shaistaganj.

Thanks to this, two years of bountiful harvests had ended the famine in Shaistaganj. People’s lives were at least peaceful, and they had begun to move out from the shadow of the apocalypse. Although the nearby small towns and cities were already safe, they couldn’t attract the survivors to move there; instead, everyone continued to cluster in Shaistaganj.

When the massive super aerial carrier The Chairman appeared, the shadow it cast covered nearly half of Shaistaganj. A moment of panic threw the entire city into chaos. Armed men scrambled to assemble into squads, taking positions on the defensive walls and rooftops, staying on high alert against this suddenly appearing massive fleet.

But the The Chairman aerial carrier battle group simply hovered in the air, coldly watching the chaos in Shaistaganj below.

Only when the city below had fully entered a state of war did an attack helicopter take off from the deck, leave the super aerial carrier, and slowly descend.

As the supreme commander of Shaistaganj, Muhammad was undoubtedly the most nervous. Shaistaganj only had a few anti-aircraft cannons, which couldn’t possibly threaten the giants in the sky. At this moment, Muhammad still couldn’t understand what those things above were. He knew about airships, but these looked nothing like airships.

When the attack helicopter emerged from the largest, double-envelope airship, Muhammad’s mouth hung open so wide he could have swallowed an egg. He couldn’t understand how an airship could house attack helicopters. Could it be that helicopters could now be parked on top of these airships? This simply exceeded Muhammad’s imagination.

He was particularly struck by the seven-colored umbrella; he felt he recognized it, but couldn’t quite remember where he’d seen it.

“General, do you remember an exploration airship that arrived a year ago? The man named Fei, the exploration airship he piloted was marked with this same seven-colored umbrella.”

With his adjutant’s explanation, Muhammad finally remembered. It clicked instantly. He said, “Yes, that’s it. Same airships, same seven-colored umbrella. Is their country built on top of airships? This is incredible. How did they manage all this? The terrifying Chinese—they are always the most miraculous.”

With this realization, Muhammad naturally couldn’t order his troops to attack the descending helicopter; he only ordered his men to remain on alert.

It looked like it was only a short way up, but Muhammad realized he was wrong. Having been a soldier before, he knew some specs for attack helicopters; from its descent speed and time, he could guess that the massive airship fleet above was actually about 6,000 meters away.

In an instant, Muhammad felt sweat break out on his forehead. He calculated that the double-envelope ship in that fleet was between nine hundred and a thousand meters long, and its width reached a terrifying six or seven hundred meters. From its structure, it wasn’t hard to see that this airship should be a platform, carrying a vast number of attack helicopters or fighter jets. It was exactly like an aircraft carrier…

“The terrifying Chinese. How did they come up with such a bizarre idea? It’s truly insane. Also, what exactly do they want here?”

Thinking of the possible consequences, Muhammad couldn’t help but tremble slightly as he watched the attack helicopter slowly land on the city’s main terminal road. A dark shadow loomed over his heart.

Chapter 402: The Human Resource Trading System

Plenty of people were overthinking things just like Muhammad. Nearly everyone in Shaistaganj, whether they were soldiers or ordinary residents, was guessing the intentions of their mysterious neighbor. With such a powerful military force appearing, they refused to believe the other party was merely passing through.

The tense soldiers swarmed the attack helicopter as it touched down on the ground, their discipline slipping slightly as they pointed their guns firmly at the craft.

“Don’t move! Hands up, put your hands up!”

“Get out! Get the hell out of there!”

Similar shouts erupted one after another. Their “facing a mortal enemy” posturing made Wang Hansheng, who was inside the helicopter, sneer. He stood up and stepped out of the helicopter with an air of arrogance, staring coldly at the nervous soldiers with a face full of disdain. As the person in charge of this communication mission, he knew the overwhelming military might of the Commercial Association put him on a higher level from the very start.

Wang Hansheng’s composure and sneer made Muhammad’s heart skip several beats. In his view, the other party definitely had something to back them up; otherwise, how could he be so calm?

Thinking of his soldiers’ current attitude, Muhammad’s heart jumped again. He silently thought, Whatever happens, do not provoke them. He ran quickly to the front of the attack helicopter, ignoring the heavy rotor wash, and roared at the surrounding soldiers, “What are you doing? What is everyone doing? Back off! Back off! Everyone back off!”

Seeing their commander speak, the tense soldiers looked at each other before finally retreating.

Muhammad stepped up to Wang Hansheng and stammered in his distorted, broken Chinese, “You… you, hao. Welcome… your arrival.”

Muhammad’s Chinese was entirely due to his pre-apocalypse work in international trade. As the Eastern superpower’s international status and economic strength had grown, many companies in Bangladesh relied on it to exist. Muhammad’s former company had specialized in trade with China, requiring its employees to have a certain level of proficiency in the language.

When Wang Hansheng heard him say “Hao you hao” instead of “Hello,” he felt a bit like laughing.

However, now was not the time for laughter. He reached out his hand. Muhammad, understanding this Chinese etiquette, immediately extended his own. At the very least, he saw that since the other party was willing to shake hands, they were more likely friends than enemies; Shaistaganj should be safe for now.

Wang Hansheng said, “I am the group leader of the eleventh group, seventh section of the International Trade Department of the Far Reach Commercial Association. I am responsible for trade matters regarding Bangladesh.”

Whenever an explorer encountered a settlement of potential allies, they would collect basic data. This information usually included the location of the settlement, the population size, the organization in control, and the identity of the top leader. Naturally, military strength was also part of the data they collected, though they often had no way of obtaining accurate details on that.

The apocalypse was not a primitive society; much of the pre-apocalyptic civilization remained. Naturally, a photo of Muhammad, the supreme commander, was within the scope of the collected data.

Thanks to this, Wang Hansheng recognized the man before him as Muhammad, the top leader of the entire Shaistaganj settlement. Shaistaganj was not an independent settlement; it was a member of the Mongzi Alliance in the north of Bangladesh, functioning much like a feudal lordship.

On major issues, Shaistaganj had to follow the orders of the Mongzi Alliance, but for minor matters, it operated under a system of autonomy.

In Wang Hansheng’s view, establishing mutually beneficial trade was originally a minor matter. Therefore, after confirming Muhammad’s identity, Wang Hansheng stated their purpose directly: “General Muhammad, our visit is entirely a gesture of goodwill for trade. We hope you can establish a trade relationship with our Commercial Association to jointly promote the development of both parties.”

Once Muhammad processed this, his mind went blank for a moment, followed by wild joy.

As long as they weren’t here to attack Shaistaganj, he didn’t care what their purpose was. Moreover, they had come with goodwill. That was enough.

Muhammad couldn’t quite figure out what kind of power the Far Reach Commercial Association was. Had that mysterious Eastern country become so powerful that even a single commercial association possessed such formidable military force? Amen, this was terrifying. It was completely beyond Muhammad’s imagination. It was predictable that a force at a national level would be even more powerful.

Of course, seeing Muhammad’s confused expression, Wang Hansheng was secretly amused.

He now understood the Chairman’s foresight; choosing such a name definitely carried a powerful impact. It wasn’t the Commercial Association itself, but the potential for misunderstanding the words “Far Reach Commercial Association.” Likely, anyone who thought of a commercial association would assume it was merely something akin to a company. If a single company had such incredible strength, how powerful would the force protecting that association be?

This kind of super-suggestion often caused any individual or power to fall into a state of panic, naturally viewing the Commercial Association several tiers higher—perhaps even reaching the point of looking up to them with awe. Although this was somewhat like a fox borrowing the tiger’s majesty, if it caught the mouse, it was a good cat, right? Furthermore, the Commercial Association truly was powerful.

Since it was confirmed to be a friendly visit, the soldiers naturally dispersed. Anyway, they couldn’t win a fight if it came to one, so Muhammad acted quite straightforwardly.

He invited Wang Hansheng into the former Shaistaganj city government office building and had someone brew tea to serve. Since they were a neighboring country, they were naturally influenced by China; tea was not a scarce commodity in Bangladesh. Nothing from the pre-apocalypse world seemed to work anymore, but tea could be stored for a long time, and it happened to be useful now.

After his subordinates brought the hastily brewed tea, Muhammad said curiously, “Dear Mr. Wang, I wonder what you have brought this time? You must know that in this world, there are not many things that can be traded.” He shrugged. “You should know, having reclaimed the city, we lack almost nothing.”

Wang Hansheng was in no hurry to answer. He gently nudged the tea leaves floating in the cup and sniffed the aroma. “Good tea. Though it isn’t authentic West Lake Dragon Well, it is a rare high-quality grade.” He spoke in Bengali mixed with some English.

Muhammad looked a bit proud. “It was found in the mayor’s office when we reclaimed the government building. It must be good stuff to be worth the mayor’s collection. Also, Mr. Wang may speak in English; I believe I can understand your meaning.”

English was a common language in Bangladesh. Local residents would often use English while speaking Bengali; the level of fluency was quite high.

Wang Hansheng smiled and said in English, “Very well, let us return to the topic at hand.” He took a sip of the tea and said calmly, “We have many things we can trade. You should understand that your country’s economic development is very limited.”

As one of the least developed countries, Bangladesh’s mineral reserves were pitifully small. Aside from natural gas, it could only rely on agriculture to support the nation’s economic lifeline. This lifeline was, in turn, supported by jute exports, which accounted for one-third of the world’s total exports.

With only a small amount of light industry, heavy industry in Bangladesh was non-existent. Poverty and backwardness were the best descriptions for it. One only had to think back to before the apocalypse; even in their capital, it was almost entirely a world of rickshaws, with very few cars or similar vehicles.

If not for the millions of survivors in Bangladesh, in Wang Hansheng’s view, there would be no need for the Commercial Association to trade here or establish a trade office at all. Could one expect them to pay for trade goods with gold? Once or twice, perhaps, but by the third time, they would likely be broke. Beyond selling their own blood, they would have no ability to pay.

Hearing Wang Hansheng’s words, Muhammad did indeed feel a bit embarrassed. He was naturally aware of the situation in Bangladesh.

“Then, Mr. Wang, what areas do you think we can cooperate in?”

Muhammad was also fed up with the terrible situation in Shaistaganj. Attacking a large city was far beyond his capabilities; you couldn’t expect people mostly armed with cold weapons to clear out millions or even tens of millions of zombies in a city. Amen, that was no different from seeking death. Since they couldn’t capture a large city, resources were naturally not plentiful. In all of Shaistaganj, cars were already rare to begin with, and only about a dozen were still functional.

In other words, Shaistaganj lacked everything except food.

Wang Hansheng laughed and said, “You can look at it this way: whatever you need, we can provide. For example, this time we brought live pigs and sheep, as well as a small number of live cattle. Additionally, we have a large amount of canned fruit and side dishes. General, think of roasted steaks and golden lamb; you must be interested. The key now is, what will you use to exchange for our goods? You should know, they will not be cheap.”

“Are you certain? You brought meat products?”

Muhammad felt his saliva secreting wildly, nearly flying out of his mouth like a waterfall. Heaven knew how long it had been since he had touched meat. One year, two years, three, or five? Bangladesh was an agricultural nation, and its livestock industry was originally underdeveloped. Much of the meat had to rely on imports. In the apocalypse, meat was even less likely to be seen.

Wang Hansheng nodded. “Of course, and the quantity is not small.”

Thinking of what Wang Hansheng said about what to use for exchange, Muhammad grew anxious. The currencies of the world’s nations had become waste paper; he had no idea what to use for trade. Shaistaganj was broke and had nothing to offer. He looked at Wang Hansheng awkwardly and asked, “What do you hope to obtain?”

Wang Hansheng held up two fingers. “There are two paths. First, naturally, is gold. Second is population.”

With a “whoosh,” Muhammad stood up and said reflexively, “Population? What population? No, that’s impossible.”

Having long anticipated this reaction, Wang Hansheng calmly sipped his tea and said, “General, please don’t be nervous. Sit down. I haven’t finished speaking. Actually, in my view, this is ultimately a win-win situation.”

Muhammad slowly sat back down. He stared fixedly at Wang Hansheng and said, “We have gold, but only a small amount. Regarding the population, I declare that it is absolutely impossible. They are all citizens of Bangladesh; they cannot be traded like goods. If that is the case, I would rather not have this trade.”

“Good, General, I respect your choice, but why not listen to our so-called Population Plan?”

Wang Hansheng was very calm. He said, “We don’t actually need the people themselves; rather, we use a leasing format. To put it another way, people from Shaistaganj will go to our city to work and provide us with labor. This way, all you are giving up is their labor. You exchange their labor for the things you need, which can even include weapons.”

Seeing that although Muhammad still had an “impossible” look on his face, his shifting eyes told Wang Hansheng that he was already tempted.

Your interest is exactly what I want!

Wang Hansheng continued, “Furthermore, General, we will pay them the wages they deserve. Perhaps you are confused about what our wages are!” He took a printed diagram of Rainbow Coins from his pocket and said, “This is the currency issued by our Commercial Association. It is recognized by us and can be used to buy anything within the Association.”

In reality, it was like a labor hire service. Muhammad would be the ultimate labor boss, controlling tens of thousands of workers.

Like a fox tempting Little Red Riding Hood, Wang Hansheng said, “Think about it, General. You only need to provide ten thousand laborers. Just based on the price the Commercial Association pays you, if you lower what you pay them slightly from our quote, how huge a figure would that be? Once you have Rainbow Coins, forget about meat—even the weapons you desire most can be purchased with them.”

Muhammad became completely excited. After all, before the apocalypse, he was just a minor supervisor at a trading company; he had plenty of experience with the “kickbacks” involved in employee wages. He caught the implication in Wang Hansheng’s words immediately. Thinking of everything Wang Hansheng described, his eyes sparkled.

Holding power over all of Shaistaganj, it was impossible not to have ambition. Humans are always eating from the bowl while looking at the pot. When you get a wage of one thousand, you think of fifteen hundred; when you get fifteen hundred, you think of two thousand. Ambition is like that… it expands continuously and can never be satisfied.

Muhammad craved things like meat, but that was far outweighed by the desire for weapons. Look at his soldiers—what did they look like? How were they different from a beggar army?

Wang Hansheng didn’t give Muhammad much time to think. He said, “If the General is worried about the labor export, you can send supervisory personnel or rotate the workers every six months. All we need are workers. A large number of factories need to start production, and many orders need to be fulfilled; we are simply too busy to cope. Otherwise, why would we Come up with such a strategy?”

Muhammad looked up, the expression on his face no longer faked. “Regarding this matter, I need to discuss it with others.”

Wang Hansheng didn’t object. He checked the time and said, “General, we don’t have much time. If there is no answer in one hour, we will leave. I imagine the regional cities around Dhaka would certainly be interested in this proposal. Well then, I won’t disturb your discussion.”

Leaving the former mayor’s office, Wang Hansheng was treated like a distinguished guest and escorted to a lounge where several rare exotic fruits were served.

An hour wasn’t very long, and Muhammad and his people reached a decision. To be honest, this labor leasing from the Far Reach Commercial Association looked like they were just sending money to Shaistaganj. Population might seem valuable in the apocalypse, but it really depended on who was looking at the issue.

In Bangladesh before the apocalypse, only 8% of the population was engaged in light industry, and heavy industry was almost non-existent. Most of the population relied on farming to survive. It was the same in the apocalypse. All of the nearly 70,000 survivors in Shaistaganj could only engage in farming. Given Bangladesh’s climate, it was very suitable for crop growth, and harvests were easy to come by. Under these circumstances, only 10,000 people were needed for farming to feed the nearly 70,000 residents.

One could say that human resources were being vastly wasted. The remaining 60,000 people were essentially idle. When there was no farm work, they could only stay in the city, basking in the sun and doing nothing.

Since there was such a large surplus population, why not send some to the Far Reach Commercial Association to work, as Wang Hansheng suggested? The Rainbow Coins they earned could then be used to buy weapons directly. With weapons, their voice within the alliance would carry more weight, and they could even…

Regardless of the motive, there was only gain and no harm.

Thus, an hour later, Wang Hansheng received a definitive answer: they agreed to establish this human resource trading system.

Upon receiving word that Wang Hansheng had completed his task, two armed transport airships detached from the super aerial carrier battle group and descended toward Shaistaganj. This time, they primarily brought meat products, along with a generator set that could provide sufficient power for Shaistaganj, laying the foundation for the delivery of electrical appliances.

Of course, to demonstrate the might of the Commercial Association, The Chairman super aerial aircraft carrier conducted a takeoff exercise.

Hundreds of fighter jets took off from the super aerial carrier in small groups, filling the sky in moments and shrouding Shaistaganj under a canopy of flying shadows.

Facing the stunned Muhammad and his men, Wang Hansheng said proudly, “General, we only wish to tell you that our Commercial Association has sufficient military force to maintain this trade cooperation between us. It will not be sabotaged by others—provided they truly consider challenging the Commercial Association!”

UNTITLED

Chapter 300: Era-Defining Technological Research

Chapter 301: The Area of Two Provinces
Chapter 302: Upgrading and Expansion
Chapter 303: Prosperous Shanghai
Chapter 304: The Circle
Chapter 305: Scaring the Hell Out of Them
Chapter 306: I Quite Admire You
Chapter 307: Rhino Tank
Chapter 308: A Settlement in the Basin
Chapter 309: Maiden Battle
Chapter 310: Lenghu
Chapter 311: Engineering Airships
Chapter 312: Armored Train
Chapter 313: 225% Experience

Chapter 314: The Emergence of the Military Spirit

Chapter 315: The Journey
Chapter 316: The Self-Exploder
Chapter 317: The Destroyer from the Sea
Chapter 318: An Empty Shell
Chapter 319: Overseas Isolated Island
Chapter 320: They Will Change Their Minds

Chapter 321: Shark Swarms and Anti-ship Missiles

Chapter 322: Level 17
Chapter 323: Education
Chapter 324: Have You Eaten Meat?
Chapter 325: Before the Great Merger
Chapter 326: Chain Reaction
Chapter 327: The Negotiation Team
Chapter 328: “Gold Mine”
Chapter 329: The Power Put on Display
Chapter 330: Dark Clouds Gathering
Chapter 331: Reality is Scarier Than a Poster
Chapter 332: Enforced
Chapter 333: A Grievous Price
Chapter 334: The Great Migration
Chapter 335: The Supercarrier

Chapter 336: The Online Arms Shopping Platform

Chapter 337: Old Russia, It’s Your Turn for Misfortune!

Chapter 338: Railway Guerrilla
Chapter 339: Is it April Fool’s?
Chapter 340: Precision Strike
Chapter 341: Yuanshan City
Chapter 342: The Sound of Splashing Water
Chapter 343: Shadows in the Fog
Chapter 344: Lifting the Veil
Chapter 345: Purgatory, A Love Story
Chapter 346: Hotpot
Chapter 347: Forward Airfield
Chapter 348: A Wild… Charge
Chapter 349: Breaking Through
Chapter 350: Effortless
Chapter 351: A Stylish Entrance
Chapter 352: Who Has More People?
Chapter 353: Dance of Death
Chapter 354: Waiting
Chapter 355: Flash Acquisition
Chapter 356: The Badass Ride
Chapter 357: Men’s Sports
Chapter 358: Did You Come to the Wrong Place?
Chapter 359: The Big Bad Wolf
Chapter 360: Misunderstanding!
Chapter 361: Eat Without Restraint
Chapter 362: Stagnation
Chapter 363: Sharpening the Knives
Chapter 364: The Sharp Blade
Chapter 365: The Nest

Chapter 366: Mountains of Gold and Seas of Silver

Chapter 367: The Legend of the Racing God

Chapter 368: The Ripe Fruit

Chapter 369: Big Boss, please don’t mess with people like that!

Chapter 370: Weights and Measures
Chapter 371: Who is Plundering Our Happiness?
Chapter 372: A Lightning Promotion
Chapter 373: Getting Serious
Chapter 374: The Parade
Chapter 375: Biochemical Human
Chapter 376: The Starry Sky
Chapter 376: The Starry Sky
Chapter 377: Snow-Longing and the Small Town
Chapter 378: Trouble Arrives
Chapter 379: Dissecting the “Ox”
Chapter 380: Who Robbed Whom?
Chapter 381: The Seductive Woman
Chapter 382: Qingli

Chapter 383: Do You Think This Is Your Own House?

Chapter 384: Doubling Back

Chapter 385: What Kind of Man

Chapter 386: Drawing the Snake Out of Its Hole

Chapter 387: A Quick Trip Around
Chapter 388: No Food, Panicking Now?
Chapter 389: All Must Flee!
Chapter 390: The Great Madman
Chapter 391: Listen
Chapter 392: World War III?
Chapter 393: The Hunters
Chapter 394: Xiao Shao
Chapter 395: The Lamppost

Chapter 396: Re-enacting the Scene of Infection

Chapter 397: Hanoi
Chapter 398: Who Can Stop Me?
Chapter 399: A Nation of Soldiers
Chapter 400: The Temptation of a Pig’s Head
Chapter 401: Escort and Safeguard

Chapter 402: The Human Resource Trading System