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墨書 Inktalez
As Labor Day approached, everyone was wished a joyful holiday filled with fun and happiness. Gratitude was expressed for the support received.
In the midst of towering buildings, several figures suddenly flashed by, their presence accompanied by a rushing wind that stretched their shadows long on the ground.
The group of over ten individuals carried heavy bags of food weighing hundreds of pounds, yet they flew through the air with remarkable stability. They were not Superpowered Individuals but rather ordinary Survivors, the most common people in this post-apocalyptic world. Even securing a meal was a significant challenge for them, and in such dire circumstances, they had to rely solely on their strength to obtain their supplies.
Food? That was a matter of life and death. They dared to dash boldly only until they reached the Gathering Place, where they would surely hide their food and bring back only a small portion to satisfy their hunger.
The Telecom Building stood before them, once a renowned edifice of State-Owned Enterprises before the apocalypse. Its unique design resembled an upside-down pair of shorts, with four large golden characters shining brightly above.
This extravagant appearance was evident. Inside, figures continuously appeared against the transparent walls, but upon closer inspection of the Glass Wall, one would realize that there was nothing on the other side—just Zheng Yifan's exceptionally strong sixth sense as a Superpowered Individual.
As the group of Survivors arrived at the Telecom Building, it was as if they had found their anchor. They finally felt at ease. After glancing at Zheng Yifan, they quietly dispersed to carry out their individual tasks.
This action was an unspoken agreement among them—no unnecessary chatter was allowed; it had become an established rule among Survivors.
Only Zheng Yifan remained at the entrance of the Telecom Building, gazing at the low wall barely two meters high, with tangled barbed wire strewn across it. Humans could climb over it even if it meant getting hurt, but Zombies lacked such intelligence; they would merely charge forward. When one Zombie fell, another would step on it to climb up.
This was the wisdom of the Survivors: if barbed wire ensnared a Zombie's body, it wouldn't be completely trampled down. The Zombies behind could not push through either. No one would disregard their own lives; they channeled all their strength and intelligence into dealing with Zombies and fellow humans alike.
Several hundred Survivors, clad in layers of cotton jackets, crouched behind the low city wall, stealthily observing a few individuals—especially those ten or so laden Survivors returning from their haul.
They knew these Survivors intended to hide their food supplies; all they needed to do was note their general location and conduct searches after shifts changed.
Bored and restless, Zheng Yifan carefully scrutinized the Telecom Building. While others were unaware of what lay inside, he was not. His extraordinary sixth sense allowed him to perceive human emotions within and gradually visualize scenes unfolding before him.
It proved more effective than any X-ray Superpower because everything he sensed was genuine—there were no deceptive phenomena present.
In the Apocalyptic World, the Virtual Imaging Technology was nearing its large-scale application for all of humanity, although it remained confined to military use. Major electronics companies around the world were on the verge of implementing their plans.
Looking at the first floor of the Telecom Building, one could immediately sense a feeling of sorrow and a heart that was nearly dead. This emotion spread throughout the next ten floors.
The people here had no hope; they were merely forcing themselves to survive. A gloomy atmosphere lingered in these floors, with a bloody scent so thick it was almost suffocating. The foul and rancid smell of blood weighed heavily on Zheng Yifan, nearly overwhelming him.
Unable to endure that feeling any longer, Zheng Yifan brought his thoughts back and slowly returned to the entrance of the Telecom Building with the dozen or so people behind him.
Across from them were holes resembling dog dens, never more than a meter high. This was how the Survivors entered their Gathering Place. The Big Shots could use Baskets, and there were even human-powered devices similar to elevators; Superpowered Individuals could simply jump in.
But they could not. They were merely the lowest-tier Survivors, devoid of any rights. They could only grovel on the ground and crawl into the Gathering Place.
The holes resembled dog dens, forcing one’s spine to bend. Several Survivors crawled through without hesitation, gesturing for Zheng Yifan to jump over from above.
In this apocalypse, strength was everything. As long as you had enough power, you could do anything; if you lacked strength, you would die without anyone giving you a second glance.
Everything was so realistic—if you couldn’t bring benefits to others or oppress them, why would they treat you kindly?
Zheng Yifan absolutely refused to crawl through that dog hole; jumping over was the best option. Looking at the expressions of those Fellow members on the city wall who were watching with amusement made Zheng Yifan seethe with anger.
Suddenly, he felt a sense of enlightenment. In this apocalypse, everything was built on the premise of power. Was he being too cautious by coming here? These Survivors were merely surviving day by day; he wasn’t like that. Being overly careful would never lead to development.
It felt as if a fire was swirling in Zheng Yifan's heart, slowly reminiscent of his previous skills—Wildfire Spreading—growing and spreading until it transformed into a raging flame that would obliterate all obstacles in its path.
“Ha!” Zheng Yifan exhaled lightly, his gaze resolutely fixed on the dilapidated city wall before him. Inside the wall lay mostly old cars and steel plates crudely bonded together with concrete, far inferior to Ruiguan, let alone the massive barriers established later on Jiang Grand Bridge.
All his strength coalesced in one place as he let out a sharp shout.
“Ha!” With that fierce cry, his right foot struck like a gale against the fragile wall. The force of several tons hit the wall like a giant hammer during a Siege, an overwhelming power crashing against its surface. The immense force didn’t even allow cracks to form before it shattered everything in its path.
The entire wall vibrated as if a volcano had erupted or a river had been turned upside down. Dust filled the air, with concrete debris scattering everywhere.
The short section of the city wall was smashed with a single kick, showing no mercy, as if struck by the tail of a Third-Stage Zombie.
Under the sudden force of that kick, it was as if a baby was helplessly waving its arms.
In a daze, one could almost see a burly figure silently watching Zheng Yifan, nodding quietly before fading away into the air with a sense of relief.
That was the last strength of Huangdi; his final gaze did not witness destruction. It was not the end of the world, but hope—the hope of humanity.
An era may be swept away by the tides of time, but it is often one person who can change that era—a person capable of leading their tribe to glory.
He was a powerful leader from the previous age, devoid of mercy and weakness, for those who followed him could not rally behind a weak leader.
Only through battle! Slaughter! Victory! Glory!
Could the brilliance of that mighty tribe be established. Only then could they survive in this wretched world.
The Apocalyptic World was a hundred times more brutal, for it was not just a battle among humans. There were also the ever-present Zombies and those formidable beasts.
Humans?
They were merely struggling reptiles in the apocalypse. Without an opportunity for development, they would gradually be eradicated by Zombies and beasts as time passed.
Like thunder, panic spread among everyone in the Telecom Building. They only saw thick clouds of dust rising from the wall that usually kept Zombies at bay.
In a Post-Apocalypse scenario, such commotion would hardly frighten them.
But this apocalypse was different; any creature capable of delivering a heavy blow was terrifying. Take for instance the randomly appearing Third-Stage Zombie—a truly fearsome monster. Then there were those Lizard-like creatures, Cat-like Beings, and dogs that had become the most dreadful demons in this Post-Apocalypse world, ready to snatch away human lives at any moment.
Their power was undeniable. Survivors had no chance to defeat them and lacked the ability to do so.
As smoke slowly spread, it gradually revealed figures within; there stood a robust body, holding a spear that stood tall like his posture, his eyes scanning the entire Telecom Building.
The dominance was absolute. The person who had just crawled through the dog hole into the Telecom Building was puzzled by the sudden change in the powerful Superpowered Individual.
Yet, they still approached without hesitation. There was no particular reason; being strong was enough. In the Jungle Law, the weak were prey to the strong, and in this post-apocalyptic world, it was even more brutal, as even one’s own kind could be consumed when truly pushed to the brink of starvation.
“Let’s go! Let’s take a look inside!” Zheng Yifan strode forward. Ahead lay the grand entrance of the once-majestic Telecom Building. Now, it was worn and battered; despite countless attempts to clean the glass doors, remnants of blood still clung to the corners, stark and noticeable.
With his head held high, Zheng Yifan stepped inside but nearly lost his footing from the overwhelming stench that hit him like a physical force.
The odor was intensely foul, as if he were stepping into a quagmire, with mud covering the ground.
This was no ordinary dirt; a metallic scent of blood lingered within it.
Clearly, people had died here. The residents had feared contamination from the Plague and had brought in dirt to bury the blood, leaving behind this tainted soil after cleaning up.
A thick layer had accumulated, and no one knew how many lives had been lost. Ahead, what used to be a spacious hall had been stripped bare; all the neat chairs had been dismantled. The remaining fabrics, cotton, and sponge had been torn apart and spread across the floor like makeshift bedding.
Hundreds lay silently on the ground, appearing close to death, yet they still breathed, still searching for food.
For instance… their fellow beings nearby.
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