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墨書 Inktalez
After the night comes the dawn, which signifies that a happy morning is about to arrive. The first ray of light piercing through the darkness always brings a warmth that feels like the very first moment of the world, much like a newly hatched chick blinking at its first glimpse of life.
Then, chaos ensues!
Yes, chaos! Complete chaos. As the air warms, the Zombies hide away in the slightly chilly night; they seem to have a fear of the cold. But with spring approaching, although it is still some time away, the current temperature is already enough for them to wreak havoc.
Seventy miles south of Ruiguan, a vast shadow begins to emerge, composed of countless heads. They are powerful and frenzied.
In the center of this throng, some Zombies appear particularly strange—these are timid figures huddled around a three-headed, six-armed Zombie. They watch in terror as other Zombies struggle nearby, wanting to devour them, but they are forced to move forward despite their fear.
They know that as long as Wang Ming in the center continues to protect them, they can survive. The moment he withdraws his protection will mark their death.
Their survival hinges on Wang Ming's presence, which intimidates the surrounding Zombies. All the Leader Zombies allow these dozen or so barely surviving humans to exist; to them, they are merely ordinary food that does not warrant significant effort. As for the Ordinary Zombies under their command, they are all deterred by Wang Ming and do not dare approach.
The Leader Zombies sometimes look at Wang Ming with envy, admiring his powerful Puppet Zombie.
What a formidable Puppet Zombie it is—three-headed and six-armed—representing a broad perspective. It increases the chances of successful escape and allows for dealing with multiple enemies at once.
What makes them even more envious is the layer of black liquid on it, which serves as the best armor for a Zombie. Having such a Puppet Zombie is undoubtedly a dream for any Zombie Leader.
They have never considered attacking other creatures because they are leaders of Zombies; all food is provided by their subordinates. They do not need to hunt. The ideal Puppet Zombie is one that is strong and adept at escaping.
It is not evaluated based on combat strength. In fact, one of the Leader Zombies has a Puppet Zombie that resembles a pangolin, capable of burrowing underground at any moment.
Thus, within the ranks of Zombies, their status is surprisingly high. The longer a Zombie Leader survives, the greater their control over more powerful Zombies becomes—a privilege earned through long-term training and experience.
In Zombie, there is also bloodshed as they fight over their kin, competing for the Puppet Zombie.
However, they are currently engaged in collective action, hunting together while maintaining this relationship, refraining from invading other Zombie.
Gradually, the figures ahead became visible; it was a throng of thousands, all lightly equipped and fleeing at top speed.
Their escape route led them towards Ruiguan, as they were well aware that it was a stronghold occupied by Zombie. However, the Zombie within had been investigated and found to be neither powerful nor numerous.
Of course, they had only scouted the outermost numbers of Zombie in Ruiguan. Had they known the vast number inside, despair would have surely consumed them.
Now, Ruiguan was further occupied by the Hope Gathering Place, serving as a barrier dividing the south.
Yet, they cared little for that. They were simply running for their lives; without this last glimmer of hope, they did not know how much longer they could endure. It was their final belief, the conviction that kept them alive; as long as they could reach Ruiguan, survival was within grasp.
The scouts of the Flame Legion had already caught wind of their approach. Several Survivors near the Howling Wind Gathering Place had long since rolled up their bedding and fled. Hundreds of thousands of Zombie, including numerous Second Tier, Third Stage, and mutated Zombie, were far beyond what they could handle. If there was any place on this prairie capable of confronting such a horde, it would be the mysterious Hope Gathering Place, which served as the backend for the trading center known as Wilderness Gathering Place. As for the latter, they would not consider it; while it was indeed a trading hub, it only possessed defensive capabilities and lacked any means to eradicate threats. If trapped inside, starvation would be inevitable since they had discarded most of their assets, leaving only a small amount of food along with some Currency or Zombie Crystal from the Hope Gathering Place.
These had become the universal Currency across the entire plain region and were considered the most stable form of currency. Food-backed currency could be exchanged for corresponding amounts of food at any time, thus establishing its basic value assessment system.
Even if the entire market economy collapsed, food would remain resilient; it was one of the most scarce resources in this apocalyptic world. Despite those at various Gathering Places being able to fill their bellies now and then—warriors occasionally enjoying a hearty meal—many at the bottom still struggled to find enough to eat. They desperately saved up little bits of money to purchase supplies at the Wilderness Gathering Place to sell back at their own gathering spots for meager amounts of food.
Each effort was merely to stave off starvation, aiming to accumulate enough funds for a chance at a full meal.
Now, they too followed their leaders from the gathering place towards the mysterious Hope Gathering Place, driven by one last desperate struggle before death. They understood that they were not part of the Hope Gathering Place; those people might not welcome these refugees fleeing in disarray.
Even if one is willing to fight, to risk their life, to endure hunger and hardship just for a chance, what does it matter if they have to bow low? Han Xin endured humiliation; everyone can do it as long as they are given even a glimmer of hope. They become desperate.
True desperate individuals struggle on the brink of life and death, sacrificing a life of comfort for the chance of a better future. Why do they toil alongside Zombies?
It is simply because resources are easier to obtain here. How many people have become wealthy in this place and then returned to the original Han Sui City Gathering Place, now known as Wilderness Gathering Place, to do business?
They have all achieved prosperous lives, especially since this place offers enough Zombie Crystal s. What excites them even more is that danger and opportunity coexist here. They might obtain Essence Fruits, which can elevate them to Superpowered Individuals. Everyone has the chance to consume even the lowest-grade Essence Fruit; B-Rank Essence Fruits are often acquired, allowing individuals to rise above others and secure a bright future filled with rights and wealth.
As long as they do not go to Hope Gathering Place.
It is said that everyone there is a Superpowered Individual, possessing extraordinary abilities and advanced civilization, akin to the difference between post-apocalyptic jungle dwellers and technologically advanced humans.
They yearn for that place, glorifying it as a nation.
Now, as they flee, they can only pin their hopes on that mysterious land that might save these desperate souls fighting for survival.
Behind them, the Zombies' grotesque faces draw closer. Their strength is rapidly waning; even a distance of several dozen miles could exhaust them. Yet the Zombies show no signs of fatigue, silently lurking at night. They must press on day and night for the hope of survival.
Those who fall behind signify disaster and death. This is a competition of elimination; the elderly fall away, the young drop out.
Even those women who lack strength are left behind.
Of course, beautiful women can secure their passage forward because they are valuable commodities. The lords who believe in the nation surely need some amusement; these women become the best toys during such times—a stepping stone to gain protection.
Beautiful women were not only placed in vehicles, but they were also given time to apply makeup and wear clothes they usually wouldn't dare to don.
They were about to face a test; if they caught the eye of those powerful Superpowered Individuals, or even the higher-ups of the mysterious Hope Chamber, it would lead to a life of luxury.
Several famous stars from the Post-Apocalypse donned their quietly kept luxurious attire, while makeup artists touched up their looks. They were all gambling; these women had reached an agreement with the makeup artists that if they successfully entered the Hope Gathering Place, they would secure a spot for these artists as well.
As for those who held power over them, they treated them like commodities. In the Hope Gathering Place, these women could exchange for a considerable amount of goods.
These women were prime treasures; had it not been for this unfortunate turn of events, they would have been waiting for the right price. Their best target was the actual leader of the Hope Gathering Place.
Once connections were established, there was definitely a chance to send these women up there. At that point, wealth and glory would be within reach. Usually, they treated these women equally, sharing any good food with them first, all in hopes that if any one of these women successfully connected with a true Big Shot and gained power, they might pull them up along the way, soaring to great heights.
As night approached, the pace of the fleeing people slowed significantly; the Zombies were no longer pursuing them.
However, more importantly, the Hope Gathering Place was now within sight. A rapid march in the Post-Apocalypse could cover 100 kilometers in just four hours. Now, after about seven or eight hours, they had enough time to see Ruiguan; they just needed to follow the city wall to reach the gate.
The Machine Guns standing on the walls sent shivers down their spines; it was a display of formidable force. Now, searchlights illuminated every corner, leaving no opportunity for any human or Zombie.
This was Ruiguan. It was the Hope Gathering Place. The weathered walls stood tall with Killing weapons, and every patrolling warrior was a Superpowered Individual. The weapons in their hands gleamed brightly, and they wore sturdy Plate Armor, their expressions cold as if they were Deities from above. (To be continued)
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