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墨書 Inktalez
Beside the rusty entrance of the research facility deep within the mall, the weathered sign loomed like a silent eye, watching us amidst the chaos.
But at that moment, I had no time to pay it any mind.
Nor did I have time to deal with the more advanced mutants.
“Dali! Run! Back to the camp!”
I shouted.
Grabbing Zhong Dali, I sprinted back in the direction we had come from.
Though those new types of mutants were powerful, they were few in number.
Engaging them head-on would only drain our strength.
Moreover, after consuming that green mutant, the burning sensation within my body had yet to fully subside.
My abilities also needed time to digest.
Right now, the most important thing was not fighting.
It was to safely return to our shabby temporary camp with the hard-earned spoils we had gathered.
We ran at full speed, dodging scattered zombies and collapsing buildings.
Zhong Dali utilized his advantages as a former wrestler.
He would directly charge and knock aside anything that blocked our path.
I occasionally unleashed energy shockwaves to clear away particularly troublesome foes.
To be precise, that surge of energy shot out uncontrollably on its own.
Once, a shockwave slammed into an abandoned taxi.
That poor taxi instantly transformed into a twisted metal sculpture, bouncing to the roadside with a loud "Duang."
I looked at the taxi I had accidentally damaged, and my heart ached.
How much would that have cost to repair back in the day!
But now, heh heh, in this apocalypse, no need to pay!
Our journey had been so chaotic, it felt like two frantic groundhogs on the run.
No, it was more like one groundhog fleeing with a wild bull.
Finally, we returned to the camp.
The camp was quite rudimentary.
It was just a circle made of abandoned buses and shipping containers.
Inside, a few tents were set up.
In the center, a fire crackled.
Several survivors brightened up when they saw us return.
Like hungry wolves spotting fresh meat.
"Old Wei! Dali! You’re back! How did it go? Did you find anything?"
A man in tattered camouflage approached us.
His eyes were filled with eager anticipation.
I looked into his longing gaze.
Then I glanced at the pile of junk in Zhong Dali's arms.
And at the precious pack of compressed biscuits I was holding.
A wave of complex emotions surged within me.
Fatigue washed over me like a tide.
Yet the thrill of sharing the spoils acted like a shot of adrenaline, instantly pulling me out of the mire.
As soon as Zhong Dali entered the camp, he became the center of attention.
His sturdy frame and the bloodstains on him testified to the hardships he had faced on this journey.
Of course, what mattered more was the heap of junk he was carrying.
And the pack of compressed biscuits tucked under my arm.
Everyone gathered around, chattering excitedly with questions.
"Dali, what did you find?"
"Did you come across anything useful?"
"I see you have food!"
When the last question was asked, all eyes turned to the pack of compressed biscuits in my arms.
It was compressed biscuits!
In this apocalypse, compressed biscuits were more precious than gold!
They represented energy, a glimmer of hope for survival.
I felt the biscuits in my arms grow heavy.
It was as if they carried the gaze and desires of everyone around me.
I looked at Zhong Dali's simple smile.
He was completely oblivious to the fervent looks in the eyes of those around him.
He just kept grinning foolishly.
With his mouth agape, drool trickling down, he stared at that pack of compressed biscuits, his eyes filled with the most primal desire for food.
He looked just like a rabbit that had spotted a carrot.
Meanwhile, behind his innocent smile, I was calculating how to get a bigger share.
After all, he had only put in some effort.
But I, I had risked my life to devour the new type of zombie.
And I had provided invaluable technical support.
Though the appearance of that "jumping machine" zombie and the energy shockwave were both unexpected and passive occurrences.
But so what?
In this apocalyptic world, who isn't willing to go to any lengths just to survive?
My refined rogue nature was laid bare in that moment.
I cleared my throat, ready to speak some platitudes like, "We did well this time; let's all work together," and then propose a "fair" distribution plan.
For instance, I would take the lion's share while he took a smaller portion, and the others would get the scraps.
However, before I could utter a word, Zhong Dali suddenly blurted out something astonishing.
"Hey bro, you can have the whole pack of cookies!"
His voice was sincere and earnest.
"Wow! You saved me!"
He looked at me with eyes full of gratitude, as if I hadn't just been using him but was genuinely protecting him.
I was taken aback.
All my calculations, my schemes, my refined rogue persona crumbled into dust in the face of Zhong Dali's simple and pure words.
I never expected this simpleton to be so "generous."
Or perhaps he had never even considered the notion of "sharing."
He only knew that I had saved him, so he was willing to give me what he considered the most precious thing.
The calculations in my heart suddenly felt somewhat shameful.
I felt like a carefully scheming thief who had been exposed in front of a fool.
But I still held my ground.
It was my instinct.
"How can that be? We fought hard to get this together!"
I tried to make my voice sound sincere, but even I found it awkward.
Zhong Dali scratched his head and smiled even more innocently.
"It's fine! I'm strong; next time I can grab more!"
Then, he directly picked up a pile of tattered clothes he had carried back with him.
Satisfied, he found a corner and began to "distribute" his share.
Those ragged clothes seemed to transform into priceless treasures in his hands.
He carefully folded each piece, wearing a smile of contentment on his face.
The scene was utterly absurd.
I couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time as I watched him.
This is Zhong Dali.
A simpleton with a low IQ, yet possessing a kindness that left others speechless.
In his unique way, he transformed what could have been a tense meeting over the spoils into a chaotic farce.
In the end, I quietly tucked away the pack of compressed biscuits.
My hands felt heavy, and my heart was filled with mixed emotions.
I felt like a clown, yet also like a fool who had stumbled upon unexpected fortune.
But in this absurd moment, I found myself feeling a flicker of trust towards Zhong Dali for the first time.
Perhaps in this apocalyptic world, such pure kindness is rarer than any cunning or strength.
Just as I was about to secure the biscuits and ponder my next survival plan, a sudden, urgent cry for help pierced through the air from a distance.
The sound shattered the camp's tranquility, slicing through the night like a sharp knife.
Everyone turned towards the source of the noise, their relaxed expressions instantly replaced by gravity.
An ominous premonition coiled around my heart like a venomous snake.
The direction of the cries for help seemed to be... outside the camp!
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