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墨書 Inktalez
At night, a few cool breezes swept through, causing a shiver to run down one’s spine. In the woods at Cat Ear Cliff, two men were continuously puffing on their cigarettes.
These cigarettes had been scavenged from those damned zombies, all of them still sealed; otherwise, they wouldn’t dare to smoke them.
They were truly things that could take lives.
“Old Wang, how much longer can we hold out? This godforsaken place doesn’t produce any food at all. We’ve been eating human flesh for days now.” The fat man took a deep drag on his cigarette, the last remnants burning down to the filter.
“Stop with the useless talk. We escaped from Hansui City; if we can live another day, we will. In this damned era, living and dying don’t make much difference anymore.” The thin man was noticeably gentler while smoking, savoring each puff before letting it swirl in his lungs for a moment before exhaling. The circles around his eyes slowly faded as the smoke dissipated into the air.
Behind them lay an endless expanse of jungle, where the occasional chirping of insects or birds reminded them that they were still alive.
The ground was littered with layers of dry bones, bleached white and mottled with age.
As they smoked and gazed at the skeletal remains below, tears began to fall from their eyes.
“Which of these bones is my wife’s? And which one is your underage sister?” The fat man wiped his tears with his sleeve and glanced around.
“Fatty, don’t pity them. We might be lying here soon too. Sigh, human life isn’t worth much. Sooner or later, we’ll all die here; the only difference is whether we live one day longer or shorter.” Old Wang patted his tattered pants and vigorously wiped them down.
Suddenly! A flash of cold light cut through the air, and Old Wang felt a chill at his neck. It seemed to spin around him as his lungs constricted sharply, and his heart raced beyond its physiological limits.
Having often witnessed the death of slaughtered humans, he knew he was about to die—soon, he would return to that endless darkness.
Strangely enough, he felt a sense of comfort; yes, he wouldn’t become food on someone else’s table or have his bones cracked for marrow.
“Old Wang, you know, life is just like that. You close your eyes today and may never open them again tomorrow; that’s how it goes.” The fat man continued to mutter to himself, wallowing in self-pity.
Suddenly, another flash of cold light pierced through his chest. In that moment, it felt as if the entire world was playing in slow motion. He could even see Old Wang dying before him; the blood gushing out had already splattered into the air.
His own blood flowed like fireworks in a post-apocalyptic world—so beautiful, bursting forth in a moment of brilliance.
Then, darkness returned.
At the foot of the hill, a dozen Special Forces soldiers quietly approached them, checking to see if they were playing dead.
The soldier at the front even used the bayonet in his hand to stab them in the chest and neck.
After confirming they were indeed dead, a few of them once again hid in the shadows, slowly eliminating the sentries within the Gathering Place.
Gradually, they began to realize that these visible and hidden sentries were not guarding against outsiders but rather against those inside the Gathering Place.
There were clearly fewer sentries outside than inside; these individuals constantly monitored the vital entrances and exits, blocking even the path up the hill completely.
"What on earth are they guarding against? Do they really think the people in the Gathering Place might escape?" They were puzzled and could only cautiously move forward.
Zheng Yifan followed silently behind. Of course, this was his own perception; after all, the people ahead were over a hundred meters away from him, and behind him was a team of dozens waiting for the real battle to begin.
Strangely, a chill seemed to creep in. As he reached the slope, Zheng Yifan saw a Special Forces soldier standing ahead, directing him.
"What’s going on here?" Zheng Yifan asked, only to see that person pointing toward one side of the forest.
Turning his head to look, Zheng Yifan couldn't help but vomit.
He had seen dead bodies before and had encountered zombies, but he had never witnessed anything as horrifying as this.
In the depths of the jungle stood a small platform, only two meters square, shrouded in darkness where its true form was indiscernible.
But when that Special Forces soldier lit a dim candle, Zheng Yifan felt as if he had stepped into a horror film; what lay before him was truly terrifying.
A sea of severed heads lay scattered about, blood flowing freely. All the heads bore grotesque expressions, and on the ground was a thick layer of something white and carpet-like. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be neatly arranged human skin.
The heads on the platform were piled high, all belonging to women, and relatively beautiful ones at that. Their faces had been washed clean, even adorned with light makeup, but it did little to mask the decay brought on by time. Maggots crawled in and out of their eyes, mouths, and nostrils.
Of course, this was the result of rough handling. On the ground behind the pile of human skin lay a massive heap of heads that had not received the same treatment as those beautiful women. They were severely decomposed, and putrid fluids pooled around them.
"Chirp!" Just as Zheng Yifan was about to vomit, a rat emerged from the pile of heads. Its blood-red eyes glared out at him, and its size was several times larger than an ordinary dog.
Before Zheng Yifan could react, a Special Forces soldier beside him threw a dagger with precision, followed by a long knife that plunged into the rat's mouth, twisting violently.
"Captain, these rats are raised on human flesh and are extremely vicious. We must be cautious; we currently have no plague prevention medicine. Being bitten by them is just as dangerous as being bitten by a zombie," one of the Special Forces members explained to Zheng Yifan while surveying the mound of heads with concern.
"This is the Capital of the Capital, a place where heads were once displayed to showcase military might. The skins on the ground were also stripped from living people," he added, kicking at some bones scattered on the floor. "These bones have been boiled; it seems that food shortages in Cat Ear Cliff have reached a critical level. Preliminary estimates suggest there are nearly a thousand skulls here."
The expression of the Special Forces member flickered with unease. He had thought his resolve was strong enough, but now he felt a chill run down his spine. It was terrifying—one thousand lives had been slaughtered by their own kind.
The motive was simple: they wanted to consume you.
"Let’s hunt down their organizers and avenge these people," Zheng Yifan said after regaining his composure quickly. Gritting his teeth to suppress his discomfort, he moved forward resolutely.
He needed to see what monstrous figures were behind the massacre of their own people.
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