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墨書 Inktalez
Leng Fengyang understood that in this desolate wasteland, being able to drive a tank through the ruins was an incredible luxury and not an easy feat. However, this joy did not linger in his heart for long, as the domestically produced vehicle, known as a gas guzzler, now had only half a tank of fuel left, making it impossible to catch up with the convoy ahead.
In the sky above, aside from precious water and food, gasoline had quietly become the most scarce resource. Just as Leng Fengyang was contemplating how to find supplies, a sudden strange sound shattered the night's silence.
Outside the dilapidated factory, low and eerie groans intermittently echoed, accompanied by harsh scraping and creaking noises, as if the gates of hell were slowly opening, releasing endless terror and despair. Leng Fengyang's nerves instantly tensed; his experience as a Grave Hunter told him that this was no natural sound, nor could it be produced by ordinary beasts.
A chilling thought flashed through his mind: it was the corpses wandering in the darkness, feeding on flesh and blood, accompanied by fear—one of the most terrifying existences in this apocalypse.
"It seems we need to go," he said. "Buckle up; hold on tight!" With a mysterious system to guide him, Leng Fengyang couldn't wait to test it out. He helped A Yan fasten her seatbelt before releasing the handbrake and slamming on the gas pedal. The engine roared defiantly against this ominous night, tires screeching against the ground as they cut through the surrounding gloom and fear.
Leng Fengyang gripped the steering wheel tightly, his gaze sharp as he pierced through the factory's iron gates, crashing into a grotesque corpse ahead that was mangled and bloody. A Yan pressed herself against her seat, fingers intertwined. Though anxiety filled her heart, she felt an inexplicable sense of reassurance looking at Leng Fengyang's determined back.
He turned on the car radio, trying to find any external information or signals from companions, but only static crackled back at him, heightening his agitation. Outside the window, the scene was hellish; corpses staggered along both sides of the street, their eyes devoid of reason, filled only with a thirst for living flesh.
Leng Fengyang slammed down on the accelerator again; the engine roared as if echoing his fighting spirit. Suddenly, a horde of corpses completely blocked the road ahead; they seemed to sense the vehicle's presence and began to howl as they closed in.
"Turn left!"
"A large wave of walking corpses ahead; turn right in ten meters!"
With the System Prompt guiding him, Leng Fengyang did not slow down; instead, a cold smile crept onto his lips. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and executed a perfect drift maneuver. The car slid sideways, barely grazing past a nearby corpse's nose while leaving behind a trail of terrified screams and splattered flesh.
This impressive maneuver not only avoided obstacles but cleverly carved out a path through the gaps between corpses. Leng Fengyang quickly glanced at the rearview mirror to confirm that no corpses were closing in behind them before flooring it again. The car shot out like an arrow from its bow.
The wheels bounced violently over the ground littered with bodies but did not slow his speed in the slightest. Along the way, guided by System prompts, Leng Fengyang made sharp turns and sudden bursts of speed; each change in direction was precise and flawless, as if he were performing a deadly dance at high speed.
As the last wail of the decaying corpse faded away, Leng Fengyang let out a slight sigh of relief, though he remained vigilant, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he sped towards the direction of the convoy.
After driving for about ten kilometers, A Yan finally relaxed her tense nerves, gazing ahead at a brightly lit bar. There couldn't be a more thrilling night than this.
A Yan's voice carried a barely perceptible tremor, a mix of relief from surviving the ordeal and curiosity about the unknown. She turned to look at Leng Fengyang, their eyes meeting in silent understanding; in that moment, they both recognized the determination and unspoken bond reflected in each other's gaze.
Indeed, tonight was exhilarating.
Leng Fengyang's voice was steady and strong as he lightly tapped the steering wheel, feeling a rush akin to a system prompt—what a thrill it was. But their journey was far from over; there was still a long road ahead.
He continued, and A Yan nodded, her eyes sparkling with resolve as she said, "Yes, no matter what lies ahead, I will face it with you. That bar up ahead looks like a good supply station; perhaps we can gather some useful information."
They slowly drove into the parking space in front of the bar and pushed open the door. A wave of warm air mixed with various scents rushed to greet them, starkly contrasting with the cold and danger outside.
Inside the bar, voices were lively and music blared loudly, yet amidst the noise, they seemed to find a temporary sanctuary.
Finding a relatively quiet corner to sit down, Leng Fengyang and A Yan began to observe their surroundings. The patrons were either laughing and drinking or engaged in hushed conversations, seemingly cut off from the outside world.
They ordered a few hot drinks, trying to catch useful clues from the conversations around them. Soon enough, a seemingly well-informed drunkard noticed them and approached with a friendly demeanor.
"Hey, you two look like you just came in from outside? It’s not too safe out there."
A Yan smiled slightly and skillfully steered the conversation, saying, "Yes, we just passed through a dangerous area and managed to escape in time. This place seems quite safe; we were hoping to find out which routes are safer lately."
The drunkard lowered his voice as if not wanting others to overhear their conversation. "If you want to keep moving forward, it's best to avoid the South ruins; there's been quite a gathering of restless Abominations over there. Head north instead; there's a small path that's tough to navigate but relatively safe and leads directly to the next Supply Point."
Leng Fengyang and A Yan exchanged grateful glances and thanked him before preparing to leave when they were suddenly blocked by six drunken individuals at the bar.
These uninvited guests were clearly tipsy, their eyes glazed over with a hint of provocation. The leader among them, a burly man with an unkempt beard, staggered over to Leng Fengyang and gruffly said, "Hey there, newcomers? Planning to leave just like that? Not leaving something behind doesn’t quite fit our rules here."
Laughter erupted around them as the atmosphere turned tense and oppressive.
Leng Fengyang and A Yan exchanged glances, quickly assessing the situation. They knew that confronting them head-on was not wise, but they also couldn't show weakness easily.
"Calmly," Leng Fengyang replied, "we're just passing through and mean no disturbance. Rules? We don't understand them, but we don't want to provoke anyone. Please make way, and let us all coexist peacefully."
After speaking, his expression remained unchanged, yet he secretly gathered his strength, quietly gripping the weapon stained with blood on his back. His eyes revealed a resolute determination that brooked no offense, ready to respond to any provocation at a moment's notice.
Make way? Not a chance! If they wouldn't let this beauty beside him join him for a drink...
Before he could finish his thought, the Drunkard's hand instinctively reached toward A Yan's face. In that critical moment, Leng Fengyang moved like a ghost, his shoulder bearing the rebar wrapped in crimson cloth. With a fierce gust of wind, he struck the filthy hand mercilessly, producing a dull thud.
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