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墨書 Inktalez
The night was slowly approaching, and the last struggle of the sun cast a red hue over Fortune God Street. The dirt road appeared even more mottled, seemingly stained with blood under the glow of the evening sky.
Dim streetlights flickered to life, and outside, explorers and mercenaries returned to the Gathering Place like swallows returning to their nests.
The atmosphere began to rise with excitement.
At the intersection of Fortune God Street, three explorers linked arms and wandered slowly down the street, their destination the Store Rental Registration Office at the end.
The ground seemed to reveal hidden blood beneath the soil, a faint scent of iron wafting into the night.
Gradually, shop after shop began to light up. A few stores that had yet to open were slow to unlock their doors, their scattered wares catching the eyes of passing survivors. Yet they would grit their teeth and continue on.
At the entrance of the Store Rental Registration Office, the three explorers glanced at the sign above the door before turning back to carefully examine the shop that was soon to be theirs.
It was a store, the cheapest on all of Fortune God Street, nestled among many unoccupied shops.
Yet they were still filled with joy; it was an ordinary wooden building with a simple structure, even less appealing than a shipping container in this post-apocalyptic world.
But for the next month, it would be their property.
"Month! Store 147 for one month; get the paperwork done!" The three explorers excitedly pushed open the door of the Store Rental Registration Office, unable to hide their exhilaration.
After a week of exploration, they had finally found an overturned truck in the grasslands, containing a dozen boxes of instant noodles and various snacks.
All their wealth combined amounted to a significant sum in this apocalypse.
Because in this post-apocalyptic world, those junk foods were rich in salt. Although consuming too much was unhealthy, it could serve as a substitute for salt in these dire times.
They needed a store to sell their goods; as long as everything sold out, they would become part of that small group of wealthy individuals in the Gathering Place. They would gain the right to do business and exploit ordinary survivors, ultimately moving into the coveted shelter in the refugee area.
There, security was fully protected by Unit 1, where one could find the most precious safety in this chaotic world.
"Congratulations! From now on, as long as Han Sui City Gathering Place exists, Store 1 will always belong to you. Its structure will become your property. I hope your business thrives in the future." Charming Moon happily handed a copper token to Zheng Yifan and recorded Sun Jiang's name in her ledger while taking a photo for documentation.
This would serve as proof of property ownership.
The three people outside opened the Store Rental Registration Office and were immediately taken aback. What had once seemed like a spacious office now felt cramped, with bags of rice piled high all around. The rice was new, and through the semi-transparent bags, they could see that while the grains weren't the fullest, they lacked that brittle, broken quality.
"Yue! You actually let them talk you into taking Shop No. 1! Didn't you explain the situation to these guys? That Shop No. 1 may look like a building, but it's a trap—a completely unreliable one!" The burly man from the rental shop glared fiercely at Yue.
"Is Shop No. 1 really that bad? Is it falling apart or haunted?" Zheng Yifan asked.
Looking at this man, Zheng Yifan was reminded of a classmate from his university days—a true Northeastern fellow, straightforward to a fault. He often offended people with his bluntness, yet everyone liked to befriend him because he would never stab you in the back while pretending to be nice.
"This brother," he continued, "on Fortune God Street, from Shop No. 1 to Shop No. 475, all are properties protected by the First Division. However, Shop No. 1 isn't considered part of Fortune God Street's wealth. It used to belong to the Elite Mercenary Group, but ever since they were wiped out, it has become abandoned property."
"Now, the First Division just wants to get rid of this bad asset. The shops on Fortune God Street aren't worth much anyway. According to the agreement, that place isn't protected by the First Division; anyone can go in and take what’s yours without needing a reason." The burly man chuckled as he pulled out a coin from his pocket and handed it to Yue.
"I advise you to choose another shop," he said as he paid and received his proof of registration before cheerfully leaving the Store Rental Registration Office.
"Haha! Interesting. I want to see who dares to take something from me, Zheng Yifan," Zheng Yifan said lightly with a smile and waved his hand dismissively. "Let's go check out our property; we need to establish our reputation before opening for business anyway. Let's see who runs into Muzzle."
In an instant, his imposing aura returned—the decisive Zheng Yifan who had slaughtered thousands of zombies.
"Hey there, sir! There's also a complimentary gift," Yue said playfully in a soft voice.
"Brothers! Who wants a gift? It's yours!" Zheng Yifan laughed heartily.
"Captain, let's skip it; not interested," the other soldiers joked as they left the Store Rental Registration Office.
"Sister, that opportunity just went to that guy who rented the shop earlier," he chuckled as he walked back toward Fortune God Street.
"Idiot!" echoed behind him.
The others hurriedly pushed their tricycles toward Shop No. 1; their goods were inside waiting for them.
On the street, shadows of people began to emerge, dragging their weary bodies into every open shop to see if there were any discounted items. New stores, especially those recently opened, attracted many eager buyers.
The shops on Fortune God Street were known to be stocked with goods acquired by entire mercenary groups or individuals who had come into a large supply of resources that needed selling.
Often, these goods were offered at prices lower than market value.
As a result, Zheng Yifan's team drew even more attention. It was still not completely dark, and they remained under the jurisdiction of the First Division. A few patrolling soldiers closely followed Zheng Yifan's group along Fortune God Street, wary of any potential trouble.
Of course, it was also possible they were hoping to snag a bargain.
Soon, everyone saw Zheng Yifan's team heading toward Shop No. 1. After all, that building had no proper entrance; it was open on all sides and impossible to conduct business inside. Not even a homeless person could be found there since it was unprotected, while the interiors of other wooden houses were safeguarded by the First Division.
In front of Building No. 1 hung the management regulations for Fortune God Street issued by the First Division.
What troubled Zheng Yifan the most was a special note indicating that Shop No. 1 was not under the management of Fortune God Street, had no taxes, and offered no safety guarantees.
It was essentially a lawless zone. People in the streets watched Zheng Yifan and his team from a distance, and when they entered Shop No. 1, excitement erupted among the crowd.
Those brave enough to face off against zombies—Survivors—were not cowards; they brandished their weapons, waiting for nightfall and the start of darkness.
As night descended and the drums signaling its arrival sounded, the outside refugee area would fall into complete chaos with no management. Only within the wooden houses would there be protection from the First Division. The weak would hide in their rooms while the strong ventured out to plunder one another. Most shops operated during this time, allowing ordinary people to exchange worthless currency for basic food supplies.
At night on various streets, it was survival of the fittest. Some cheap goods dumped by the First Division would be loaded onto military vehicles and transported to the Slum. These items were so inexpensive that they drove people mad with desire, leading to frenzied purchases in the Slum—but bloodshed accompanied this chaos; obtaining goods meant risking one’s life.
This was the rule for weeding out the weak, gradually reducing those unfit for survival until only the fierce remained.
“They're truly insane!” Zheng Yifan sat on the ground, watching hundreds of people gathered at the entrance with bloodshot eyes.
“Yeah, they want to rob us. I believe we’ll soon enter a state of lawlessness,” Sun Jiang said as he leaned closer to Zheng Yifan, slowly smoking a cigarette he had managed to light up. Other warriors began clearing the ground and inspecting the quality of the buildings.
Tomorrow, they would recruit craftsmen from the post-apocalypse to help repair the houses, with all materials provided by Zheng Yifan.
They didn’t care how it came about; as long as it could be renovated and made usable, that was all that mattered.
"Captain, to be honest, I'm a bit excited. It's been a long time since I've fought anyone. I've only been dealing with Zombies, and after a while, I'm really afraid I might go crazy," Li Ning said, looking eagerly at the person in front of him.
They weren't from the Hope Gathering Place, and once night fell, they could slaughter freely without fear of retribution from Zheng Yifan.
Today's purpose was to establish dominance; only with enough bloodshed could they create a fierce impression, which would deter future troublemakers.
"Brothers! Are you really going to set up shop here? The local thugs from several nearby streets have gathered, and I've heard that a few Mercenary groups have their eyes on you. You need to be careful!" The man had initially wanted to help but was pulled back by a few friends.
"Brothers! Remember my name, Hu Han! If you know me, at least give me some face!" Hu Han struggled fiercely but ultimately couldn't break free from his companions' grip and was quickly dragged into the crowd.
"Whoa!" More and more people gathered at the entrance, their heads packed tightly together, each holding a weapon.
Zheng Yifan remained seated on the ground, half-leaning against the wheel of a Tricycle, wisps of smoke curling above his head.
The other warriors slowly stretched their muscles, ready to spring into action at any moment.
Today, there was no need for Zheng Yifan to intervene; it was their chance to showcase the results of their training over the past days and to prove themselves in front of him.
Each person was close to exchanging Military Merit for Essence; they all wanted to join Zheng Yifan's Guard Camp.
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