Chapter 71: Encounter

Noon.

Fan Li walked ahead, with Hu Huayao bringing up the rear, and Yang Shuo and Liu Hao positioned between them. They had left the building some time ago. With the three spawn of the Devouring Titan all slain, there was little chance of ordinary zombies breaching the room, so they need not worry too much about Hu Jia’s safety.

Food, water, medicine, and more weapons.

Fan Li’s list contained many essentials, which was why he had organized this group excursion. After both Yang Shuo and Liu Hao had drawn blood, though their faces were pale, they understood now that ordinary zombies were no more than reanimated corpses. As long as they were ruthless and struck hard, and avoided being surrounded, a one-on-one encounter posed little threat.

This realization had undoubtedly given Yang Shuo and Liu Hao some confidence. Along the way, the number of zombies they had killed together now exceeded five.

[Slaughter Value +1]
[Slaughter Value +1]

A cold gleam flashed.

At the front, Fan Li wielded his katana, a chill glinting along its edge. In the next instant, the head of a zombie soared high into the air. Its expression hadn’t even had time to change before Fan Li had ended it with a single stroke.

The two monsters he controlled gave Fan Li immense confidence—this was exactly why he dared to lead the team outside to fight. Of course, having monsters defeat enemies did not increase his Slaughter Value. Ellie and The Butcher were trump cards to be played only when truly threatened, when he would summon darkness and carnage upon the land of the living.

Thanks to his petrified skin, Fan Li no longer wore heavy clothes. Armed with his katana, he had become a tolling death knell, ringing doom for countless zombies.

Moreover, the blade, strengthened by the blood of monsters, had undergone a fundamental change. It was far sharper than before—now, a zombie could be cleaved in two with little effort.

A wet splatter of rotten blood accompanied another massive head as it was cleanly severed.

[32/500]

Compared to the beginning, his Slaughter Value was increasing at an unprecedented rate. However, the cap had risen from 100 to 500. If he wanted to summon the next monster, Fan Li still had a long way to go.

They advanced cautiously, stopping and starting, until they reached the entrance of a shopping mall.

Baisheng.

In peaceful times, this was one of the most well-known malls in the county. It housed a cinema, a supermarket, and a variety of specialty stores, drawing in shoppers of all ages—a hive of activity.

But now, it lay abandoned, deserted for who knew how long. Shopping carts were overturned to one side, a dozen or so zombies wandering through its corners—well-dressed women, diligent security guards, simply dressed janitors.

In the days of order, they were divided by class, their fortunes rising and falling. But now, their faces were hideous, all become alike—carnivores, free from worries of wealth, driven only by the urge to tear fresh flesh and fill their bellies.

Fan Li wanted to collect supplies from the supermarket inside. Compared to a corner store, supermarkets certainly offered a wider variety of food.

With the plan set, Fan Li and the others killed the zombies lingering at the entrance and then went inside.

“Brother Li, look—this whole cabinet is full of gold!” Yang Shuo called out, making his way to a jewelry counter. With a twist, he popped open the glass case, grabbing a fistful of gold and showing it off to the others.

There was easily a hundred grams in his hand—worth tens of thousands in currency. In times of chaos and war, gold had always been a precious metal for trade. The apocalypse, however, was different.

All around, fine jewelry and exquisite clothes were scattered like rubbish, stained not with perfume but with thick blood and grime.

With order collapsed, everything reverted to the primitive. Gold—the wealth that could drive men to kill in troubled times—was now worthless in the apocalypse, less valuable than a pack of instant noodles.

“Don’t waste time,” Fan Li ordered, frowning. “Search for the items on the list as quickly as possible.” By rights, the supermarket should have been a crowded place, but the number of zombies here was far fewer than expected.

The others might be glad of this, but Fan Li, having faced evolved zombies and monsters, felt a lingering unease. Was there something stronger than ordinary zombies lurking nearby?

No matter what, caution was best.

The others nodded. Yang Shuo picked up a necklace, but the rest didn’t pause, following Fan Li into the supermarket.

Passing the counters, they reached the entrance to the main store, where the floor was also spattered with blood.

“Wait...” Fan Li raised his hand to halt them, stepping forward to inspect the ground. He saw many chaotic footprints—not the dragging marks left by zombies, whose stiff muscles left smears of blood, but clear, spaced prints, agile and distinct.

There was a rustling sound.

Fan Li tensed, glancing toward the source, when suddenly a voice shouted out.

“Don’t move!”

A man of about twenty-five, with a buzz cut and sharp, triangular eyes, stepped out, pointing a pistol straight at Fan Li’s group.

In peacetime, firearms were strictly forbidden. Many residents of safe cities might never see a real gun in their lives. Now, with a pistol trained on them, the others—apart from Fan Li—were visibly nervous, frozen in place, unsure what to do.

As the man spoke, scattered noises sounded nearby, and more men emerged, carrying bags and wielding weapons—machetes, clubs, shovels, and golf clubs.

They had only one illegal firearm among them.

“Well, look at what I found.” The sharp-eyed man’s gaze swept over them, then he said to his companions, “Four survivors.”

“The boss said, besides gathering food, any man or woman we find, we bring back to the camp.”

Fan Li’s eyes narrowed. As expected, a county with hundreds of thousands of people could not have only their handful of survivors. Humans were social creatures. Judging by the man’s words, they had already formed a group, even had a leader.

He counted—eleven men in total. Since the apocalypse began, this was the largest group of living people he had seen.

The sharp-eyed man held a cigarette between his lips, took a deep drag, and exhaled a cloud of white smoke. “This territory belongs to Song,” he announced. “You’re crossing the line.”

“As long as you don’t resist, we mean you no harm. We just want you to come with us to a safer place. This county is finished. Alone, you won’t last. Band together, and you’ll have a better chance.”

His words sounded reasonable, but he never lowered his gun. There was no kindness in his eyes, his tone was almost a command, leaving no room for refusal.

Strangers.
A firearm, a real threat.
Going to an unknown base?

A cold light flashed in Fan Li’s eyes, his expression turning cruel. The appearance of these men made him sense real danger.

He had no intention of placing his fate in the hands of strangers. Compared to some so-called new power, he trusted himself more.

A killing intent began to simmer in Fan Li’s gaze. He shifted his left foot forward, tilting his katana slightly downward. The movement caught the sharp-eyed man’s attention, who swung the pistol toward Fan Li, his expression twisting into a snarl.

“I said don’t move! Before I shoot, drop the—”

He never finished. Fan Li lunged forward like an arrow. At a distance of less than five meters, the man would have time for only one shot at best.

Bang!

The shot rang out, startling everyone. None of Fan Li’s companions had expected the man would really pull the trigger.

Fan Li’s body staggered for a moment, but before a second had passed, he charged on, head lowered.

The shot meant the man had truly intended to kill him.

The katana flashed coldly as it swung up. A rush of hot blood splattered across Fan Li’s face.

A severed arm, still clutching the pistol, dropped to the ground.

For a moment, everything froze. The others stood stunned, unable to believe what they had seen. As the sharp-eyed man’s body trembled, on the verge of screaming in agony, Fan Li stepped forward, clamped a hand hard over his mouth, and muffled his cries.

The gunshot would already have drawn the attention of nearby zombies. If the man screamed, a horde would soon converge on them.

He would have to endure it, just a little longer.

Blade in one hand, the other clamped over the man’s mouth, Fan Li—his blood-smeared face contorted—turned to the group of strangers and spoke in a hoarse voice.

“I don’t care whose territory this was before. But now, everything here belongs to Fan!”