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墨書 Inktalez
Stepping out of Hope Mall, Zheng Yifan walked alongside Master Wu Yingzhou, Tian Ye, and Li Ning, with Tian Ye acting as their guide after carefully studying the map.
However, as they traversed the ancient-looking streets, it was truly difficult to discern where their destination lay.
The desolate streets were lined with tightly shut residences, and nearly all the living had left Gathering Place to scavenge for anything edible or sellable on the grasslands. Anything with even a hint of value would be brought back, especially Zombies, who were their primary targets. Zombies often carried useful items; while many things might not be consumable, they could still be traded for meager food supplies—like decorations or electronic devices. Some even formed large groups heading towards Kaiyi City, aiming for the outskirts of the city in hopes of substantial profits.
But correspondingly, the risk of death was much greater.
In this apocalyptic world, survival chances were already slim, and life was a constant struggle. Fortunately, within Gathering Place, Zombie Crystal s and Essence Fruits of Trash could now be used as currency to purchase food at the newly opened Hope Mall; otherwise, they would eventually starve.
“Captain, according to the map, this street we’re on is the main thoroughfare of Gathering Place. It’s daytime now, so there aren’t many people around; at night, everyone stays indoors to sleep except for essential activities,” Li Ning explained as they slowly entered deeper into Gathering Place.
It resembled a town with neatly arranged houses that looked like a series of trenches; every building could serve as an obstacle against Zombies.
The entire Gathering Place was like a massive maze where warriors could fight and retreat, using the buildings as barriers. Meanwhile, ordinary Survivors were largely ignored in terms of their survival.
On the street side, one could often see injured Survivors staring blankly into space, waiting for death. If only they had relatives to bring them food, they might recover in a matter of days.
Unfortunately, all that awaited them was death. Even if they managed to leave Gathering Place, their chances were slim; it was better to stay and hope that soldiers from the 1st Division would come out to distribute Rice Porridge to help them survive.
In the beginning, soldiers from the 1st Division frequently came out to distribute Rice Porridge; however, this had gradually decreased over the past month.
They understood that the Management Team within Gathering Place had tightened control over food supplies because recently outside food had slowly begun flowing into Gathering Place, allowing some Survivors to show signs of recovery for a time.
They needed all Survivors to toil endlessly for food to prevent any potential rebellion. The circulation of Essence Fruits was also strictly controlled; only the Essence Fruits of Trash were allowed to circulate within Gathering Place to encourage people to take risks and keep that small percentage of Survivors serving the leaders of Gathering Place.
The lives of others were inconsequential to them. What they sought was stability and a solid regime.
As Zheng Yifan walked through Gathering Place, he observed the situation around him and occasionally asked questions of those barely clinging to life. As they moved along, Li Ning would discreetly leave behind small items for those Zheng Yifan had spoken with—perhaps a piece of chocolate or a few coins—subtly giving them a glimmer of hope for survival.
As they continued walking, Zheng Yifan suddenly noticed a group of drunken individuals staggering down the street like crabs, their faces obscured by masks.
The masks were all made of the roughest materials, many crafted from tree bark and tied with roots.
"Li Ning, why are those people wearing masks? Halloween is still far off!" Zheng Yifan observed the drunken individuals ahead, touching his own face, and a sense of caution began to creep into his mind.
In front of others, he was the highest leader of Hope Mall at the Han Sui City Gathering Place, holding the power to make decisions. In such circumstances, there were certainly desperate individuals who might try to seize him for a meal or some food.
After all, to others, he was an outsider. It was common for visiting merchants to be held up by local starving souls on the streets.
"Those people are just hungover drunks. They earn a little money outside the Gathering Place and spend it all on alcohol to get wasted. As for those masks, everyone prepares a pair. It's much safer to wear a mask when going out to buy things; it helps avoid disputes with second-hand dealers and prevents any grudges from forming afterward," Li Ning explained to Zheng Yifan.
Then he witnessed a strange scene: Zheng Yifan pulled four Batman masks from his not-so-large jacket pocket, each covering half of the face. He then distributed them among the group.
"Put on the masks; we’ll blend in with their crowd and gather some information while we’re at it. We should also find out about the Ice King Squad," Zheng Yifan said as he donned his mask. Instantly, the tension seemed to dissipate. In front of him, those drunks swayed uncertainly before disappearing down an alley, while ahead lay a bar—one of the few shops still operating in the Gathering Place. Most shops were located near the mall established by Division One or within the Slave Trading Market.
Outside, there were only service-oriented shops, and their numbers were scarce.
In this apocalyptic world, merely surviving was already a challenge, let alone enjoying life. All commercial activities revolved around ensuring the survival of Survivors within the Gathering Place.
The caravans arriving from other Gathering Places were primarily there to earn food; they mostly brought slightly higher-grade Essence Fruits, which were almost exclusively traded with Division One. Occasionally, two Gathering Places that sold food would require Zombie Crystal s.
This was precisely why Zombie Crystal s had value in Han Sui City Gathering Place.
Zombie Crystal s either replaced Currency or could be utilized by Formation Masters; regardless, every faction sought to capitalize on them.
As they walked along the road, snippets of conversation could occasionally be heard, mostly about Hope Mall. The abundance of prizes, rich resources, and enticing exchange rates drew attention.
Anyone holding Zombie Crystal s and Essence Fruits had already begun trading again. They aimed to exchange their acquired food for worthless Zombie Crystal s and Essence Fruits at other Gathering Places before returning for more trades.
Those daring enough to explore were often well-informed individuals.
"You! Yes, you! What are those two up ahead doing asking so many questions about Gathering Places? Do you dare to rebel? This is government territory; who dares to be arrogant?" A long-haired drunk staggered out from behind the bar and approached Zheng Yifan, reeking of alcohol. He gestured wildly before suddenly vomiting on the ground.
Fortunately, Zheng Yifan was agile; otherwise, he would have been drenched. Next, the drunkard swayed on his legs, his body quickly collapsing as he fell onto the "map" he had just drawn on the ground.
A wave of nausea lingered in Zheng Yifan's chest, making him recoil in disgust as he glanced at the bar's sign.
Night Hall.
From the outside, the entire bar looked different from ordinary buildings, as it was constructed entirely of earth and stone. Inside, one could hear the sound of singing accompanied by intermittent vibrations.
It was important to note that most electronic devices had ceased to function in this post-apocalyptic world, so the fact that this bar was still operating was clearly significant.
Moreover, food and fruit were incredibly precious in this era; who would be willing to trade them for alcohol?
There was only one possibility: the drinks were remnants from before the apocalypse. But who would dare to consume such valuable items now?
Only by entering the bar could these questions be answered.
The entrance to the bar had a postmodern style, or perhaps it could be described as non-mainstream punk. In any case, it could only be summed up in two words.
Dilapidated.
Indeed, it was very old. Although it had been covered with dark-themed graffiti, it could not hide its true nature.
It was an ordinary factory door—unlocked and without a bolt—simply hanging on the wall. One could just push it open to enter. This design also served to prevent cold air from seeping in during winter.
Otherwise, there might not even be a door left.
Upon entering the bar, there was a shadow wall that completely obscured the interior situation. One had to walk around 180 degrees to finally step into the bar itself.
Now, there were not many people left inside; those who remained were slowly sipping their purchased red wine.
It was indeed red wine, and all the labels bore names from the Post-Apocalypse era. When Zheng Yifan glanced at the prices on the bar counter, he mentally labeled all these wines as counterfeit and inferior products.
The prices of these drinks were incredibly cheap, just one dollar a bottle. Of course, there were more expensive options, but Zheng Yifan didn’t mind.
From a nearby table filled with drunks, the scent of alcohol wafted over—first a faint whiff of spirits, followed by the rich aroma of wine.
The smell was pungent and overwhelming. Behind him, Wu Yingzhou covered his nose, his face contorted in disgust.
While most martial artists rarely touched alcohol, Wu Yingzhou was undoubtedly an exception. He had a certain air of a connoisseur about him, but the drinks he consumed in the Post-Apocalypse were always of high quality.
He had also indulged in fine wines from both domestic and foreign sources.
However, today’s scent was too sharp; it was clear that it was artificially flavored. No wonder it was so cheap.
It was likely that the bar's boss had sourced from a fake distillery, acquiring these food flavorings and concocted spirits, which explained the low prices.
Of course, the main reason was that the quality was simply too poor; those with any standing in the Gathering Place were unwilling to drink it.
If they chose to drink at all, it would be the fine wines salvaged from the city, and they needed to be top-tier selections. As for ordinary liquor and cigarettes, those were rewards for their subordinates.
All subordinates needed to support a few people.
After all, when they fled Hansui City, they weren’t many in number. These individuals had only pledged allegiance under the banner of the government and required incentives to truly become their own.
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