Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
In a Walmart supermarket in Paris, countless large vehicles crowded the area, most of them buses, which were quite suitable for navigating the city.
Ahead, a beautiful woman pulled Zheng Yifan toward the line of vehicles, accompanied by dozens of other attractive girls who continuously urged others to join the queue.
The number of people had swelled to thousands, clearly indicating that these individuals were well-trained. The weapons in their hands were sophisticated, mostly illegal. Surrounding the mall, buses had been piled up to create a large barricade. On top of these vehicles stood soldiers clad in camouflage uniforms, fully equipped and wielding submachine guns with remarkable precision, each shot finding its mark on the heads of the zombies below. The zombies had reached beneath the buses, slowly attempting to attack. It wasn't that they wanted to give up; they simply couldn't rush in. Let the zombies crawl slowly; after all, they couldn't get inside.
However, if the zombies remained there, a pile of their bodies would accumulate. The zombies would step over their fallen comrades to advance, their goal being to eliminate the zombies ahead or any that might come up.
In reality, though, they wouldn't be able to hold out for long. The sheer number of zombies was overwhelming. Although humanity had only mutated half at first, one must not forget that they were all sources of infection. On the streets, anyone carrying firearms was quickly targeted by zombies; those shoppers would be infected almost immediately and turn into zombies themselves. Only about ten to twenty percent could survive, and even that number was optimistic.
In the early days of the apocalypse, humanity was constantly being depleted. Even if they fought desperately, they could not withstand the onslaught of these frenzied zombies.
Only the soldiers within the military truly had the capability to resist; their firearms could genuinely take down zombies.
However, the French military was far too small in number; even if they had weapons, they were often inadequate.
Zheng Yifan could imagine how poorly trained those soldiers back home were—how much time did they actually spend training with live ammunition? Most of it was with blanks. In real combat situations against zombies, a military-grade weapon was far more effective; only tanks and armored vehicles could truly crush zombies.
But the amount of fuel consumed was a headache for them.
An even greater concern was the population base. With over a billion people turning into zombies and sweeping across the land.
As Zheng Yifan pondered these thoughts, he found himself amidst the crowd again as that beautiful woman set off once more in search of survivors.
It seemed their ambitions were not small; in an apocalypse, population was the most crucial metric. Humanity needed people to develop; what did they want so many for? Either as cannon fodder or laborers—there would be no good outcomes awaiting them.
Yet those lost souls remained unaware of the horrors of this new world, still relying on others and even praying to their gods.
Zheng Yifan had thought countless times in his heart, "You should worship me! Praying to me would be more useful!"
However, he had no intention of starting a cult; he just wanted to solidify his own power. Around him, the crowd was in chaos, with cries blending into a mournful chorus.
He could see many youths and children choking back tears, sobbing quietly, even as they tried to stand on their own. In this apocalyptic world, adults were struggling to cope, and the bad guys, having received news of the end times, brandished baseball bats, flaunting their power among the masses. When they spotted a pretty girl, they would make unwanted advances.
Zheng Yifan was quite inconspicuous in the crowd, except for the fact that his weapon was exceptionally unique.
"Hey! Kid, hand over your weapon! Yellow-skinned monkeys have no right to wield weapons!" Suddenly, a towering man over two meters tall glared at Zheng Yifan menacingly.
The tattoos on his body were indecipherable to anyone; to Zheng Yifan, they looked like a jumble of chaotic lines. What truly troubled him was his current situation. In the crowd, he just wanted to understand what was happening and find his own group to reunite with them.
The phone signal had long been down. Although many fellows had satellite phones, unfortunately, Zheng Yifan had lost track of his satellite phone ages ago. It might have been forgotten somewhere in his storage space.
There was no way to contact them now.
He didn't even have anyone's phone number; borrowing someone else's phone seemed nearly impossible.
"Put down your weapon and kneel to apologize. I might still forgive you; dare to say otherwise? It's about killing without burying!" Zheng Yifan struggled to utter the standard five words of a Chinese bandit in French.
"Killing without burying," how simple and direct it was, yet it drew laughter from the crowd. A dozen people surrounded Zheng Yifan, ready to strike at any moment.
The few people beside Zheng Yifan pulled him back, signaling him to surrender his weapon and defuse the situation.
Everyone here was either from his own country or from Asia, with a majority being from his own nation.
"Buddy, just give them what they want; there's no need to argue with them. These fellows have always been the bullies around here. They have guns, and we can't deal with them," said a middle-aged man behind Zheng Yifan who clearly hadn’t even had time to take off his chef's uniform.
Looking at the man, Zheng Yifan couldn't help but praise his luck. This man should have been among those who turned into Zombies, yet here he was, still alive.
"Uncle, you should know that good people can be taken advantage of, just like good horses can be ridden. One must rise against the wind, but of course, that requires the confidence and strength to do so; otherwise, it's just foolishness. Fortunately, I possess all the necessary conditions," Zheng Yifan said calmly, seemingly oblivious to the Fellows across from him.
They were already furious. Zheng Yifan's nonchalant demeanor was completely different from what they had seen in others. It was as if they were mere ants in comparison.
They had already tried to strike out in anger. With no police to intervene and no useless laws to bind them, only brute force mattered. These Yellow-skinned Monkeys lacked the very strength needed; a good beating would usually make them obedient, heads bowed under their own coercion.
However, today was destined to be tragic for them. Before them stood Zheng Yifan, a true Killing machine whose count of lives taken likely surpassed theirs by countless numbers, not to mention the multitude of Zombie lives at stake.
Yet Zheng Yifan clearly had no intention of eliminating them. In this moment of panic, it was not the time to display overwhelming lethality; he couldn't let the majority fall into chaos. Those people were already pitiful enough; adding to their fear would only allow Zombies to rush in and take advantage of the situation.
Zheng Yifan simply waved his right hand lightly, and the Silver Spear danced gracefully in the air with a few taps.
With just a few simple movements, he returned to his previous expressionless state.
But for those across from him, attacking was no longer an option. They discovered that their weapons were completely destroyed; even the firearms they carried had turned into mere scraps.
Physically, they had not sustained significant injuries. As for whether they were truly unhurt, Zheng Yifan could only chuckle. Dealing with villains was something he excelled at. (To be continued.)
Comment 0 Comment Count