After tossing over a dozen nucleus crystals into the square where the blood vine was located, the vine’s hunger status finally disappeared, and it even gained 1 point of affinity.

Jiang Le stared at that single point of affinity, pondering as he opened the system’s pet page. When he focused on the blood vine sapling, the system sent a notification just as he’d expected: “Level 2 blood vine sapling, can be tamed. Do you wish to add it to your pets?”

The blood vine was undoubtedly a mutant plant with immense potential. It possessed a natural grasp of tactics and dared to challenge higher-level opponents despite its low level, placing it among the most intelligent of mutant plants.

Apart from Jiang Le’s own leveling up, his other major source of combat power came from various tamed mutant creatures.

Plants were naturally one of the options. Since that was the case, why not take this opportunity to add the blood vine to his roster?

He clicked “Confirm.” A new page lit up on the Pet screen, displaying detailed information about the Level 2 blood vine. Its current affinity was shown as 1—the single point Jiang Le had just earned by feeding it.

Goodness, Jiang Le was almost touched. Compared to a certain wolf cub who had been growling in displeasure from time to time while he was planting the blood vine just a moment ago, he almost wanted to call the blood vine a “good baby”—it had warmed up to him after just one feeding.

Jiang Le stood up and pushed away the little wolf that had been nudging his leg with its head: “Hey, hey, hey. I know you two have a history, but you already ate its nucleus crystal. Just think of it as a brand-new vine. Can we put the past behind us?”

The little wolf glared at the blood vine with hatred for its seductive ways that had led its master astray, and at Jiang Le with frustration at his lack of discipline. It desperately wanted to take a bite out of Jiang Le, but couldn’t bring itself to do it, leaving it seething with frustration.

With this upgrade, the system’s functionality has been greatly expanded.

He won’t go into details about the biological encyclopedia, security features, and cultivation trays—but the farm’s exchange system has added many new mechanical devices to accommodate the farm’s expanded area.

Having accumulated a substantial amount of gold coins through sales and rewards over this period, Jiang Le, with the aim of increasing production efficiency, did not hesitate to purchase machinery such as tillers, seeders, and harvesters. Even if some of these might not be needed immediately, they were purchased as preparation for the future.

After completing another round of upgrades, it was time to start planning the next round of planting and livestock farming. In addition to the land that naturally expanded with the system upgrade, Jiang Le used his coins to purchase an additional plot of land of the same size. With the increased number of farm workers and the assistance of machinery, managing this new land would be no problem.

For the new land, Jiang Le planned to plant staple crops like winter wheat and potatoes, interspersed with winter-hardy vegetables such as radishes and spinach.

Following this upgrade, the system’s seed exchange page now included a fruit tree option. These were all saplings that would bear fruit the following year, with prices ranging from 50 to 1,000 gold coins depending on the variety.

The fruit trees suitable for transplanting during this season are prominently displayed at the top of the list. Jiang Le selected apple, peach, cherry, and grape trees, which will bear fruit the following year.

In terms of livestock, in addition to deciding to expand cattle and sheep farming, Jiang Le also added domestic pig breeds. Under the livestock category, there are subcategories for different breeds, each with its own advantages in terms of meat growth efficiency, milk production, meat quality, cold resistance, and disease resistance.

For calves, Jiang Le chose a dual-purpose breed suitable for both milk and meat production. The system’s purchase prices for different commodities are not fixed; prices for milk and meat occasionally fluctuate. Selecting a dual-purpose breed allows for greater flexibility in responding to the system’s purchasing demands and his own needs at different times.

When selecting sheep breeds, Jiang Le considered both milk and wool production, choosing dairy goats for milk and fine-wool sheep for wool.

As for poultry, the farm’s original chicken and duck breeds were randomly purchased by Jiang Le from the market; the chickens were primarily for egg production, while the ducks were primarily for meat. For this upgrade, Jiang Le did not alter the number of existing breeds but added one additional meat-producing chicken breed and one additional egg-producing duck breed. In addition, goose farming was introduced. After considering egg production, meat production, and down production, Jiang Le temporarily selected a breed known for producing goose down.

In addition to the pond area provided by the system, Jiang Le added a significant amount of additional space.

In addition to adding common freshwater fish fry such as grass carp, silver carp, common carp, and crucian carp, Jiang Le also exchanged bullfrogs, yellow eels, and soft-shelled turtles from the system. These species, which would naturally prey on one another in the wild, can coexist without conflict in the same pond because the ponds are divided into sections that prevent them from invading each other’s territories; each species will only move between sections designated for its own kind.

After confirming the breeding area and purchase quantity for each species on the farm’s virtual screen, Jiang Le clicked “Confirm.”

After the system’s cursor circled gently on the screen for a moment, it quickly displayed: “Delivery in progress. Please select a suitable delivery time, Host!” Jiang Le chose 7:00 a.m. the following day.

The next morning, Jiang Le arrived at the farm early. At this hour, the farm staff were already up and getting ready to start work.

After the staff cafeteria was established, Luo Mian was assigned as the head chef, responsible for managing the kitchen. He took to the role well; although he used to be busy with work, Luo Mian would always make time on weekends to buy groceries and cook better meals for himself and Kong Shuya at home. Among the three employees, his cooking skills were indeed the best.

The cafeteria’s operations followed this general procedure.

The menu options for the following day were posted on the bulletin board downstairs in the office building a day in advance. Luo Mian had to select the menus for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, as well as the required quantities of ingredients. That way, the necessary ingredients would be delivered to the cafeteria’s refrigerator by that evening.

For example, this morning, Luo Mian prepared xiaolongbao, tea-eggs, glutinous rice balls, and fresh-squeezed soy milk.

Once the cafeteria opened, Jiang Le also chose to eat there. The four of them sat together at a table; the two ordinary people finished eating quickly. As a superpower user, Kong Shuya had a slightly larger appetite than ordinary people, while Mao Xiaofei was undoubtedly the biggest eater; he was always the one to finish off the leftover ingredients, so there was no need to worry about any food being wasted.

Breakfast had barely ended when the deliverymen arranged by the system arrived. Several deliverymen pushed their carts; outwardly, they looked like ordinary farmers, but each carried the aura of a superpower user, and their abilities far surpassed those of Mao Xiaofei and Kong Shuya.

The staff had absolutely no doubt about their ability to safely transport these seedlings over the mountains.

From the construction crew to the delivery personnel, Jiang Le noticed that the ability levels of the people the system had sent always matched his own upgrade level—this couldn’t be a coincidence.

The delivery crew not only delivered the various seedlings directly into the newly constructed warehouses but also briefly briefed the staff on key planting points before leaving.

Jiang Le and the staff spent two days completing all the tasks for this new phase. Looking at the farm, which felt completely revitalized and confirming that it could operate stably, he summoned Mao Xiaofei and told him about his upcoming travel plans.

Unlike before, when he would leave in the morning and return in the evening, or be gone for three or five days, this time Jiang Le wasn’t even sure when he would return.

Many of the features added in this system update were designed to increase farm automation and boost production efficiency. This gave Jiang Le the time and freedom to explore the outside world.

The newly added creature encyclopedia feature required Jiang Le to explore mutated creatures. If he wanted to unlock more entries in the encyclopedia, simply staying on the farm would inevitably prevent him from making the most of it.

Jiang Le planned to leave the farm for short periods, typically on a monthly basis, to explore more distant areas.

He can monitor the real-time status of each section of the farm on the virtual screen in his spatial pocket and arrange new planting goals for remote planning, so there’s no issue with being away.

At first, Mao Xiaofei thought Jiang Le was just stepping out briefly, as he had done before, but after hearing the plan, a look of unease crossed his face.

Jiang Le patted him on the shoulder: “Keep a close eye on the farm for me. As long as the farm is fine, I’ll be fine. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”

That same afternoon, Jiang Le left the farm with Xiao Lang.

In his previous life, the first base Jiang Le joined was a relief station organized by the Hai City government. However, as the zombie outbreak spread across all social strata, it dealt a severe blow to the government’s organizational capabilities;

Secondly, the notion that “might makes right” took hold among superpower users, causing the status of ordinary people to plummet. Soon, the morals and rules familiar to people in peacetime disintegrated at lightning speed, giving way to a new post-apocalyptic order: superpower users held supremacy, with internal hierarchies established, while ordinary people were at their mercy, reduced to the lowest rung of society.

During this period, bases of all sizes descended into chaos, constantly merging and splitting apart, until a relatively stable new situation was barely established several years into the apocalypse.

Traveling along the highway once more, after a span of only about two months, the roadbed—which had originally been elevated above the ground and largely spared from the encroachment of mutated plants—was no longer recognizable. It was either crumbled into dust and scattered across the ground or choked with the roots, stems, and vines of mutated plants growing in dense clusters. The world was either a barren wasteland or a sea of greenery; it was hard to discern any traces of modern civilization, as humanity’s alterations to nature had vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.

Xiao Lang would run wild as soon as they set out, often darting off alone until he vanished from sight. After Jiang Le had walked several kilometers, he would emerge from some unknown corner, leaving behind the corpses of numerous zombies he had killed along the way.

By the time night fell, Jiang Le found an open spot to pitch his tent. After crawling inside, he entered the spatial pocket.

By this time, the day’s fresh sheep’s milk from the farm had already been stored in the warehouse, and Jiang Le could retrieve it directly from the spatial pocket. He placed the milk and meat in front of the little wolf and fed the zombie nucleus crystal to the blood vine.

As for himself, Jiang Le took out a portion of beef noodle soup he had packed earlier and began to eat. The soup retained its optimal condition as if it had just come out of the pot, the broth piping hot, the noodles were smooth and chewy, and the side dishes and beef each added their own distinct flavors.

The little wolf finished eating first. It walked over to Jiang Le, sometimes nudging his back with its nose, sometimes pushing him gently with a paw.

This behavior usually occurred during mealtimes. When the little wolf first started acting this way, Jiang Le had made all sorts of guesses—from thinking it wanted something from his bowl to wondering if the little wolf was upset about something.

However, whenever Jiang Le offered a bit of the food—laced with seasonings humans love—to its mouth, the little wolf would turn away in disgust, refusing to eat it at all. After this happened a few times, Jiang Le realized the little rascal was just being a nuisance, so now, whenever it nudged him, he remained as still as a monk in deep meditation.

After harassing Jiang Le, the little wolf turned its attention to the blood vine.

Since Jiang Le had placed a handful of zombie nucleus crystals directly on the grid, the blood vine used its tendrils to wrap around each nucleus crystal one by one, slowly devouring them, while the zombies not yet chosen were temporarily suspended in midair, wrapped in vines.

Xiao Lang’s aqua-blue eyes immediately darkened with disgust, as if the blood vine were devouring not zombie nucleus crystals but excrement.

The blood vine possessed one of the highest levels of intelligence among mutated plants. Although they had only spent a few days together, it could sense others’ likes and dislikes while also having its own preferences.

For example, Jiang Le, who fed it delicious nucleus crystals every day, was a big favorite!

As for the mutant wolf that tried to threaten him every day when Jiang Le wasn’t looking—he absolutely hated it!

Now, upon noticing the stinking wolf staring at it with such a look of disgust, the blood vine—which had been swaying gently in the air while happily eating—suddenly paused. It then slowed its movements, scraped the already-swallowed nucleus crystal back out, and spat it out, exposing the nucleus crystal—stained with a bit of the vine’s slime—to the air, making a provocative gesture as if to fling it into the little wolf’s face.

The little wolf was furious and raised his paw to slap the blood vine. However, just as he finished the last sip of his noodle soup, Jiang Le happened to turn around. Seeing this, he immediately said:

“Hey, hey, don’t bully it.”

The little wolf’s paw froze mid-air. When he looked back at the blood vine, it had resumed its previous leisurely feeding, as if the earlier provocation had never happened—it was once again the picture of a quiet, well-behaved vine.

Countless choice words swirled in the young wolf’s mind, but in the end, he could find no rebuttal. He slammed his raised paw down on the ground, collapsing half of the system’s field ridge.

His frustration lingered until bedtime that night.

Jiang Le returned from washing up and saw the little wolf sitting on his pineapple mattress, his backside facing him.

His gaze lingered on the mattress for a few seconds before he offered a way out: “Isn’t this doghouse a little too small?”

It was the truth. Given Xiao Lang’s current size, the pineapple mattress could only fit half of him, and the pineapple hole originally dug for the pet to crawl into was now completely useless.

Dog… den…

Upon hearing this, however, the little wolf slowly turned its head to stare at Jiang Le, then stood up. Jiang Le realized his mistake too late: “Whoa, wait, I just slipped up and said the wrong thing.”

But it was too late. With just a few swipes of its paws, the little wolf tore the pineapple mattress to shreds. After finishing its rampage, it leaped onto Jiang Le’s bed, opened its mouth, and lunged at him.

While dodging, Jiang Le explained, “It’s a pet bed—I didn’t say you couldn’t use it, you little wolf!”

After the wolf’s jaws had feigned biting him several times, Jiang Le had no choice but to go wash his face again. By the time he returned, the little wolf had already claimed half the bed, looking as though Jiang Le owed it a great debt and needed to atone.

Realizing he had indeed spoken out of turn, and with the mattress already ruined, Jiang Le didn’t chase the little wolf off the bed that night—lowering his standards by one notch. The man and the wolf fell asleep together on the same bed.

What one thinks about during the day appears in one’s dreams at night. That night, the little wolf dreamed of the blood vine. In the dream, it returned to its vulnerable days when it was trapped in the blood vine’s inescapable web, powerless to fight back—suffocating, surrounded, with nowhere to hide—until it suddenly struggled and finally woke up from the nightmare.

Not even in his dreams could he find peace. With both old and new grievances weighing on him, the little wolf gritted his teeth and thought: he had to find an opportunity to teach that vine a lesson—and Jiang Le, who had accused him without a shred of evidence, was just as despicable…

Jiang Le, who had just been kicked by the little wolf, woke up for a moment, dazed. His hand instinctively stroked the wolf’s head, murmuring indistinctly, just as he had comforted the little pup months ago: “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

His voice trailed off; by the time he finished the last word, his consciousness had already slipped back into slumber.

The little wolf put aside his earlier thoughts. Never mind—being clueless isn’t a capital offense. He’d let Jiang Le off the hook this time.

After walking for two straight days, Jiang Le reached the border between Jiang City and the neighboring province. In his previous life, he hadn’t heard of any major bases in Jiang City, but Xizhou City in the neighboring province had once been home to several bases of considerable scale and renown. He wondered if they had taken shape by now.

In any case, a region capable of supporting so many superpower users couldn’t possibly be uneventful; it was certainly worth exploring. It was already November, and the sudden onset of gloomy, rainy weather had sapped what little enthusiasm he had left.

Jiang Le sat leaning against an ordinary tree that had been drained and hollowed out shortly after the apocalypse. He pulled a water pouch and a few pickled vegetable cakes from the backpack he carried and ate them for lunch.

Suddenly, a faint, almost imperceptible fluctuation of energy rippled through the air, emanating from some distant, unknown direction.

Jiang Le and the little wolf sensed this faint trace almost simultaneously. Casually stuffing the food back into his pack, Jiang Le heightened his senses to the limit, trying to catch that fleeting, ever-receding supernatural energy fluctuation.

Once they pinpointed the source of the fluctuation, they didn’t let it slip away. Man and wolf both accelerated to their maximum speed, racing together toward the spot several kilometers away.

Xiao Lang and Jiang Le were matched in speed, but a beast’s natural agility far surpassed that of a human. Moreover, since the range of the energy fluctuation kept shifting, the master and his pet decided to take separate paths to minimize the target’s chances of escape.

Meanwhile, at the source of the energy that had drawn Jiang Le’s attention, another harrowing ordeal was unfolding.

The sharp pain radiating from his lungs was impossible to ignore, yet in the face of a life-or-death crisis, physical torment was insignificant. The only thought in Zhang Haiyang’s mind was that he could not die.

Stumbling and staggering, his footsteps alternately deep and shallow as he fled frantically through the forest floor covered in moss and dead shrubs. His arms, legs, and face bore abrasions of varying severity, and the sharp leaves of waist-high wild grasses lashed against his face as he ran. While sweat mixed with blood and the foul, muddy water he’d picked up from his falls streamed down his swarthy face like a river. He could perceive nothing else but his survival instinct, driving him to evade the dangerous beast closing in behind him.

Despair, regret, and fear filled Zhang Haiyang’s mind. Images flashed before his eyes: his daughter’s ever-empty stomach, her wasting body, and his grief-stricken wife.

All for a bowl of warm rice porridge to fill his daughter’s belly—to secure more food—he, an ordinary person deemed powerless in the aftermath of the apocalypse, had risked joining a special operations squad at the base and thrown himself into this mission to hunt a Level 2 wild boar.

Before they set out, Wang Weifeng, captain of the Fengmang Squad, had assured Zhang Haiyang with great confidence: “This mission looks a bit dangerous. You’ll need to act as bait first to lure the mutated wild boar out of its cave. Leave the rest to us—one with a petrification ability, two with fire abilities, and one with an air barrier. We’ll use the air barrier to block that beast first, then combine petrification with fire—it’ll turn into roast pork in seconds. Afterward, we’ll split the meat and have a hearty feast!”

It sounded like a good plan, but whether it would work in practice remained to be seen.

The five of them arrived at the cave entrance as planned. Even before getting close, they could hear the mutant boar’s heavy breathing and smell the strange odor wafting from the surroundings. Encouraged by Wang Weifeng’s gaze, Zhang Haiyang approached the entrance with trembling legs, picked up a rock from the entrance, and hurled it into the pitch-black depths.

Clang, thud, thud, thud…

The sound of the rock striking the cave wall hadn’t even died down when the disturbed mutant boar burst out of the cave.

The moment the sunlight revealed the mutated boar, everyone gasped in horror. Though only a Level 2 mutated boar, its body was nearly as massive as an elephant in their minds, and when it ran at full speed, the ground seemed to tremble. Its face was even more hideous and grotesque, with long tusks protruding from its snout, still dripping with flesh and blood of unknown origin. Its skin was thick and cracked like rock, but the most terrifying feature was the boar’s eyes—the deep red in its sockets signaled its uncontrollable madness.

The moment its gaze locked onto Zhang Haiyang, he felt a searing intent to kill.

“Brother Wang, you guys, hurry up and do something!” Zhang Haiyang cried out in panic. His legs gave way at first, but then he scrambled to his feet and scrambled forward to escape.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this!” Wang Weifeng shook off the fear the mutated boar had instilled in him, signaling his companions to form a formation. They unleashed an air barrier, which successfully halted the mutated boar’s relentless advance.

Wang Weifeng’s expression steadied slightly. Just as he was about to seize the moment to petrify the mutated boar, the air barrier unexpectedly failed to withstand a single strike from the boar’s tusks

It shattered instantly, and the force of the blow backfired on the air barrier superpower user, causing him to cough up a mouthful of blood.

Without the air barrier, Wang Weifeng’s energy waned slightly. Seeing the boar’s blood-red eyes fixed on him, he felt a pang of unease, and his petrification spell went awry, striking only the boar’s hind legs.

Moreover, the petrification skill couldn’t fully penetrate the mutant boar’s thick, iron-hard hide. The so-called petrification merely slowed the boar’s movements slightly, preventing it from charging as fiercely as it had at the start. Yet for most people, even this reduced speed was enough to pose a lethal threat.

Two feeble fire attacks missed their mark, one after the other, and Wang Weifeng’s face had gone completely pale. The mutated boar lunged left and right, darting back and forth between Zhang Haiyang’s and Wang Weifeng’s groups.

“Brother Wang, what do we do now?” Several superpower users asked Wang Weifeng, their team leader, as they ran.

Wang Weifeng clenched his teeth and cast a long, hard look at Zhang Haiyang—who was running toward him in a panic, looking frail and desperate for help—and made a decision on the spot.

When facing danger, they didn’t need to be the fastest runners; they just needed to be faster than the person at the back.

“What else can we do? The old way! Don’t draw its attention—let’s run!”

Superpower users’ movement speed far exceeded that of ordinary people. Wang Weifeng and the others quickly disappeared into the distance, leaving Zhang Haiyang far behind. As they vanished into the wind, Wang Weifeng called out, “Don’t lure it toward the base—your wife and kids are still there!”

As the superpower users retreated, the mutated boar swiftly zeroed in on Zhang Haiyang, whose physical constitution and stamina were clearly inferior. Without hesitation, it launched a full-force attack.

Zhang Haiyang watched in despair as Wang Weifeng and the others grew ever more distant.

He had been treated as a sacrificial pawn, a bait to be sacrificed! The moment this thought crossed his mind, a chill gripped Zhang Haiyang’s heart; overwhelming fear and the sting of betrayal left his mind blank. Yet Wang Weifeng was right about one thing: he couldn’t let this monster get near the base. Gritting his teeth and suppressing his instinct for survival, Zhang Haiyang changed course, zigzagging through the terrain.

But as the petrification on the mutant boar’s hind legs gradually wore off, what chance did ordinary people like him have? Though Zhang Haiyang dodged left and right, trying to use the narrow crevices in the rock to block the mutant boar, it was all in vain. No sooner had he squeezed through than he had barely a moment to breathe; the massive, solid boulders—which seemed massive and solid to Zhang Haiyang—couldn’t withstand the mutated boar’s casual charge.

Boom! The boulder was shattered into flying debris, and one shard struck Zhang Haiyang’s calf with such force that it embedded itself deep into his flesh.

Zhang Haiyang let out a cry of pain and was knocked to the ground by the impact. He tried to get up immediately, but the heavy footsteps and the stench of blood were already almost upon him.

Zhang Haiyang would never forget the numbing sensation of that moment—it was indescribable. He was practically frozen in place by fear, forced to close his eyes in despair as he awaited death’s arrival.

Yet the dull pain of death did not befall Zhang Haiyang.

Another whistling sound cut through the air. Out of the corner of his eye—which hadn’t quite closed—a massive black shadow appeared out of nowhere, slamming the mountain-like mutated boar to the ground with a thunderous crash. After a piercing screech, the sound of splintering wood echoed through the forest.

Zhang Haiyang sensed an aura of intimidation even more intense than that of the mutated boar. He didn’t dare to look back, knowing only that two mutated beasts were likely locked in combat behind him. The will to survive infused his legs with renewed strength, and Zhang Haiyang kept running forward, desperate to get as far away from danger as possible.

Until he nearly collided head-on with Jiang Le.

Seeing the human figure before him, Zhang Haiyang initially mistook it for a zombie. When he saw the hand reaching out toward him, he instinctively curled up to dodge, letting out a hoarse cry of terror. His strength was nearly exhausted; he had no energy left to fight a zombie.

Was it his fate to die here today?

But the hand on his shoulder was warm, and a young voice asked, “Brother, what’s wrong?” Zhang Haiyang’s vision, still blurry from the exertion, slowly came into focus on the person before him.

A young man with handsome features and a kind gaze, showing no sign of aggression.

But Zhang Haiyang’s guard wasn’t completely down. He turned, pointed several dozen meters behind him, and, his voice hoarse, grabbed Jiang Le’s arm: “Run! Run now! There are two high-level mutated beasts coming up behind us. If we don’t run now, we won’t make it.”

Limping, he couldn’t move fast. Seeing Jiang Le still standing motionless, he almost wanted to shove him hard: “Run!”

Jiang Le leaned forward. “Is there nothing over there?” he asked, pushing Zhang Haiyang’s hand away and reassuring him, “I’ll go take a look.”

Unable to dissuade him, yet too afraid to follow Jiang Le back, Zhang Haiyang could only watch as Jiang Le walked over to the boulder that had been smashed by the mutant boar moments earlier.

To each his own fate, Zhang Haiyang thought grimly. He’d tried to talk him out of it and even pulled at him, but he simply couldn’t hold him back. Afraid of hearing Jiang Le’s subsequent cries of pain and pleas for help, Zhang Haiyang simply covered his ears.

But after taking only a couple of steps, Zhang Haiyang’s already sluggish pace slowed further. Lowering his hand from his ears, he cursed himself inwardly for being an idiot, yet he still wanted to turn back and pull Jiang Le to safety.

There was not a sound coming from behind the boulder. Zhang Haiyang’s heart pounded like a drum, and cold sweat trickled down his face.

The next moment, Jiang Le’s head poked out from behind the boulder. “There’s nothing here but a little blood.” Zhang Haiyang was both startled and bewildered. How could that be?

In less than a minute, that massive mutant boar had vanished? Limping, he took a couple of steps forward, half-believing, half-doubting, only to find that there was indeed no trace of the beast behind the boulder. All he could see was a long trail of blood stretching deep into the forest.

A Level 2 mutated wild boar had already left a group of superpower users helpless. What kind of terrifying creature could kill it with a single blow, then effortlessly drag its massive body away as if it were a little chick?

Was this his good fortune, or the base’s misfortune?

Zhang Haiyang froze for a moment, then shook his head vigorously, muttering to himself, “In any case, now is our chance to leave…”

He looked at Jiang Le again. Thinking of the other man’s reckless behavior, Zhang Haiyang felt a silent sense of relief. Jiang Le looked a dozen years younger than him, with not a trace of psychic energy about him—just ordinary people like himself. Zhang Haiyang saw Jiang Le as a mere teenager, yet he also felt a kinship with him.

“Which base are you from?” he asked Jiang Le. There weren’t many bases in this area. Jiang Le didn’t mention the farm; he simply said, “I’ve never joined a base.”

With his backpack on his back, he had intended to part ways with Zhang Haiyang right then. It was just a casual rescue—each getting what they needed.

Zhang Haiyang, however, was convinced that Jiang Le had just emerged from some remote corner, unaware of the dangers outside, and insisted that Jiang Le return with him to the base where he was staying.

At first, Jiang Le didn’t want to agree, but he realized that the mutated wild boar was the only high-level mutant creature he’d encountered in the past two days. He also recalled that bases like this one usually organized regular missions to clear out mutant creatures.

He figured he might as well see if he could get some coordinates by tagging along, so he agreed to go with Zhang Haiyang. During their conversation, he learned more about the man.

Zhang Haiyang, 38 years old, lived in a base called Hope. The base had a total of over a thousand people and was not an official organization; more than seventy percent of them were ordinary people, and Zhang Haiyang, along with his wife and daughter, were among them.

“You went out with the base’s superpower users to hunt mutant wild boars, and then they just ditched you and ran off?” Jiang Le frowned, though he wasn’t surprised.

He’d heard plenty of stories like this in his previous life—and had even experienced it firsthand.

Zhang Haiyang recalled his narrow escape and couldn’t help but grind his teeth in anger at Wang Weifeng and the others; he even wanted to return to the base immediately to settle the score with them.

Yet a sense of helplessness reminded Zhang Haiyang: what grounds did he have to confront a group of superpower users? If he angered them, his entire family could be expelled from the base at any moment—and that would truly be the end of all hope.

He had to swallow his pride and endure it—that was the only option for the weak.

Hope Base had a population of over a thousand, which wasn’t small by current standards. With more than two hundred superpower users, the base had a substantial force—enough to defend its security under normal circumstances. The base had a mission board where coordinates were marked for nearby areas requiring cleanup, potential hazards, or the appearance of mutant beasts and plants. Superpower users who successfully cleared these areas and brought back loot could trade their spoils within the base.

Jiang Le decided to join Hope Base for the time being, intending to make full use of the mission board to his advantage.

Zhang Haiyang had just narrowly escaped death, yet he still had no choice but to return to the base. In these times, what other option did ordinary people have but to enter the base, band together, and live under the protection of superpower users? Even if there were people like Wang Weifeng who disregarded their lives, it was still better than living outside the base.

Accompanying Jiang Le all the way back to Hope Base, Zhang Haiyang stopped just before the entrance. He glanced at Jiang Le’s face, then suddenly scooped up a handful of dirt from the ground. He grabbed Jiang Le by the neck and smeared some of the dirt onto his face and head, making him look haggard and disheveled, so he wouldn’t stand out so much.

“It’s for your own good,” Zhang Haiyang said, then whispered a warning, “Once you’re inside the base, don’t get too close to superpower users. Some of them… aren’t quite right.”

Jiang Le nodded, feigning ignorance, though he understood perfectly well the meaning behind Zhang Haiyang’s actions and words.

Abuse and exploitation were common among superpower users. When ordinary people’s very right to survive was being trampled underfoot by them, what room was there for dignity in such matters?

The base gates stood tightly shut. On the makeshift “watchtower,” several figures were patrolling. Upon seeing someone approach, one of them leaped directly down from the tower—a remarkably agile move.

He clearly recognized Zhang Haiyang and had likely heard the news of Zhang’s “death” from the Fengmang Squad, who had returned earlier. Seeing Zhang now, he couldn’t help but look surprised.

“Oh my, we all thought you were dead. You’ve got quite the constitution, haven’t you? Even a mutated wild boar couldn’t catch up to you?” the gatekeeper said, a hint of amusement on his face.

Zhang Haiyang couldn’t play along with the joke and didn’t want to dwell on the subject, but when he thought of the even more terrifying mutant beast that had appeared later, he hurriedly reported it to the gatekeeper. The gatekeeper looked skeptical: “I see. I’ll have someone look into it later.”

He didn’t seem to fully believe Zhang Haiyang’s words.

The gatekeeper turned his gaze to Jiang Le. “And this is?”

“I met him on my way back. He wants to join our base too,” Zhang Haiyang explained. Jiang Le nodded in agreement.

“Joining our base, huh? The entrance fee is one sack of grain or 50 zombie nucleus crystals,” the gatekeeper said slowly, seemingly certain that Jiang Le didn’t have either. He added, “You can pay this in installments. For now, come over here and fill out your information.”

Jiang Le wrote “Jiang Yue” on a piece of paper, then casually gave a false age and place of origin. After all, in this era where ID cards were obsolete, it was all just a formality to be gone through as he pleased.

Jiang Le was thoroughly searched, and even the backpack on his back was inspected inside and out. The bag contained only a water pouch, which was tossed back to him after the inspection. However, the lingering scent of preserved vegetable meat patties in the bag made the gatekeeper sniff it suspiciously again and again.

But aside from the water bladder, they ultimately found nothing, so they had no choice but to toss the bag back to Jiang Le.

Seeing that Jiang Le’s bag was as empty as his face, Zhang Haiyang sighed and decided to take him to his own home for the time being.

Zhang Haiyang led Jiang Le through the entire base.

The base was circular in layout. Moving from the outer perimeter inward, the population transitioned from ordinary people to superpower users, and the structures evolved from makeshift shacks to several modern buildings. Compared to other areas, it was well-maintained, though a few severed, withered roots protruding from the concrete pavement bore witness to a failed attempt to breach the perimeter.The hum of generators indicated that power was still available in certain parts of the buildings.

Beneath the buildings lay the base’s supply trading area. Some vendors had set up tables, others were crouched on the ground displaying their wares, and some were selling homemade flatbreads, and others hawking potato chips, cookies, and jasmine tea—ranging from roughly shaped, impure steamed buns to brightly colored, exquisitely packaged industrial foods

…and all sorts of nucleus crystals of varying sizes and types, though most are of poor quality. Occasionally, there are one or two slightly valuable nucleus crystals, and several burly superpower users stand guard in front of the stalls.

Mutants at this stage are well aware of the immense utility of nucleus crystals. High-grade nucleus crystals are in such short supply that they’re practically priceless—one is hard to come by. This is why many hunting squads are willing to take on immense risks to undertake hunting missions—if they can successfully obtain even a single decent-quality nucleus crystal, they can live comfortably for half a year.

While the lower classes lack food and resources, superpower users in the upper tier have no shortage of them.

Zombie nucleus crystals, occupying a middle ground, are temporarily used as currency. However, the most sought-after “currency” is, of course, food. The trading market is crowded with people, but their identities are easily distinguished by their attire and the stalls they frequent.

Most ordinary people crowd around stalls selling rough, handmade food, trading zombie nucleus crystals for meals that aren’t enough to fill their stomachs.

Zhang Haiyang slowed his pace in front of a few stalls selling coarse grain cakes, but realizing he didn’t have enough zombie nucleus crystals on him, he had no choice but to drag his injured leg home.

After walking a few more minutes, a shantytown even more dilapidated than the entrance area came into Jiang Le’s view.

The air was thick with strange, foul odors, and the ground beneath his feet had grown damp and slick, with sewage flowing through the cracks. Many structures stood crooked and crammed together. Calling them “houses” was a stretch; in reality, most were nothing more than cramped spaces—haphazardly assembled from wood and corrugated iron, held together with wire—that offered only minimal shelter from the wind, rain, and sun.

Not far away, a massive, unrepaired gaping hole in the perimeter wall allowed a glimpse of the few mutated plants climbing up from outside. Superpower users on patrol never set foot here, merely hurrying past the edge.

Zhang Haiyang stopped in front of a corrugated iron shack built against the remains of a concrete wall. It was no more than ten square meters in size—this was his home.

Before they even entered, Jiang Le heard the sound of a child coughing from inside, along with a woman’s soft voice soothing the child. Zhang Haiyang pushed open the creaking wooden door held together by nails through the corrugated iron and whispered, “I’m back.”

He turned to motion for Jiang Le to follow.

Jiang Le stepped inside and, by the faint light seeping through the cracks in the roof, made out the layout of the room.

In the corner stood a wooden plank propped up on stones, covered with a blanket. At the foot of the bed was a small, unfolded table with simple bowls and chopsticks on it. Leaning against the wall was a small spittoon, presumably for the child to use as a toilet.

Other than that, there was almost nothing else in the room.

Zhang Haiyang’s wife was named Li Jiajia; she was only in her early thirties, but due to the hardships and exhaustion she’d endured, she looked well into her forties.

She sat on the edge of the bed, cradling a little girl who looked to be only two or three years old, trying to lull her to sleep. The little girl’s eyes were filled with tears, but her cries were as faint as a kitten’s meow.

Zhang Haiyang didn’t tell Li Jiajia about how he’d been abandoned and had narrowly escaped death; he simply said, “Things didn’t go well today. I didn’t bring any food home.”

After that, he briefly explained Jiang Le’s identity and the arrangement that he might be staying with them for a few days. Li Jiajia looked exhausted, but she still managed to offer Jiang Le a polite smile.

The little girl in her arms slowly stopped sobbing when she saw Jiang Le and looked at him curiously. Jiang Le heard Zhang Haiyang call her Tangyuan.

Jiang Le smiled at Tangyuan.

Li Jiajia and Zhang Haiyang switched places, leaving Zhang Haiyang to watch their daughter while she carried a bowl covered with an inverted plate out the door.

In a moment, smoke from the fire rose outside as Li Jiajia boiled water to turn a corn cake into corn porridge. By the time she brought the porridge back inside, it was completely dark outside.

Li Jiajia divided the porridge into portions, giving the thickest one to her daughter and setting aside a small bowl for Jiang Le as well. Jiang Le refused it, but Zhang Haiyang thought he was being picky and said, “This is all we have at the base. You’ll have to get used to it.”

From the moment they first met—when Zhang Haiyang risked his own safety to warn him to stay away from the mutated wild boars—to his behavior after bringing him into the base, and Li Jiajia’s tacit agreement to share their last remaining food with Jiang Le, a stranger, it was clear what kind of people they were.

But it is often such kind-hearted people who are the first to be exploited and drained dry by the society of the apocalypse. Jiang Le shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

He reached into his backpack, rummaged around for a moment, then pulled out a few milk candies and two packets of soda crackers. He held them out toward Tangyuan, proving with actions more persuasive than words that he really wasn’t hungry.

Zhang Haiyang’s eyes widened in shock; he was certain the base guards had searched that bag.

Jiang Le explained casually, “There’s a small hidden compartment in this bag that most people wouldn’t notice.” Tangyuan, still a bit dazed, grabbed the items Jiang Le was handing her.

Li Jiajia hurriedly tried to push them back: “No, I can’t accept these. They’re too valuable.”

Just a few milk candies and two packs of cookies—how could they be considered valuable before the apocalypse? Yet in the present moment, they were indeed priceless. Even if Zhang Haiyang spent a whole day out there killing zombies, he’d only come back with a few corn cakes to choke on; a single milk candy was already a luxury.

Only superpower users could afford such supplies; resources flowed upward in layers, while the vast population at the bottom possessed the least.

“Just think of it as a gift for the child,” Jiang Le said. “Brother Zhang brought me here and is letting me stay for now. I’m very grateful.”

He took a piece of candy from Li Jiajia’s hand, unwrapped it, and placed the soft, milky-white treat into Tangyuan’s mouth. The milky sweetness melted on the child’s tongue, setting off a dazzling fireworks display of flavor on her taste buds—which hadn’t been nourished by sweetness in so long—and her big eyes immediately crinkled with laughter.

Hearing the child’s laughs, Li Jiajia paused in her movements. Yes, what was the point of formalities now? Wasn’t giving the child one more bite better than anything else?

She lowered her head and whispered, “Thank you.”

Late at night, when the entire base had fallen into a deep slumber, only a few superpower users on patrol walked along the perimeter wall, yawning.

Jiang Le’s footsteps were silent; he was almost invisible in the darkness. He nimbly scaled the unrepaired gap in the wall and landed on the ground as lightly as a butterfly.

After walking a few hundred meters away from the base, a familiar figure suddenly leaped out. It didn’t let Jiang Le catch it, but its back fur brushed lightly against the hem of his coat.

The young wolf led Jiang Le back to the vicinity of the mutated boar’s lair. The mutated boar’s massive body lay there, its spilled blood already congealed. Aside from the fatal wound where wolf fangs had pierced deep into its neck, no other injuries were visible.

Although the mutant boar’s hide was tough, the young wolf’s sharp fangs were no less formidable. Moreover, after transforming, the young wolf was even larger than the mutant boar.

…Agile and powerful in attack, it shows no fear of the wild boar’s clumsy, charge-heavy assaults.

In addition to the wound on its neck, a hole had been gouged out of the boar’s head; the spot where the nucleus crystal should have been was now empty.

But a mutated boar’s nucleus crystal of this caliber—if the little wolf had already consumed it, even if it hadn’t fallen into a stupor, its movements wouldn’t be as effortless as they are now. Digesting the nucleus crystal is quite taxing.

Jiang Le looked at the young wolf, and the young wolf casually looked back at him.

The man and the wolf locked eyes for a few seconds. Jiang Le reached out his hand, and only then did the little wolf slowly spit out a pale red nucleus crystal the size of a quail’s egg into his palm.

“Good boy,” Jiang Le said, patting the wolf’s head. “Here’s your nucleus crystal. I’ll keep it safe for now, and once the situation is safe, I’ll find a way to help you level up.”

What Jiang Le found strange, however, was that while the young wolf not eating the nucleus crystal had been agreed upon beforehand, mutant wild boars were among the few animals whose meat became even more delicious after mutation. Yet, despite not having been fed for a day, the young wolf hadn’t even bothered to eat a meal first.

Jiang Le stored the mutated wild boar in his spatial pocket and entered the pocket along with the little wolf.

Instead of sending the mutated boar straight to the warehouse, Jiang Le used his machete to split open its hide, removing all the internal organs and intestines. He tossed these parts directly into the compost machine, then cut the remaining massive carcass into sections by cut, making it easier to retrieve later.

At that moment, the little wolf, who had been sitting nearby the whole time, got up and walked over. It opened its mouth quite naturally and snatched up a large piece of tenderloin that Jiang Le had just cut off, as if it had been waiting all day for this moment of being served.

Jiang Le：“……”

At first, he hadn’t eaten the wild boar pork not because he disliked it or lacked an appetite, but simply because he was a picky eater—accustomed to clean, pre-processed pork, he’d even grown too lazy to chew it himself.

After a moment of silence, Jiang Le chuckled to himself, deciding this little quirk wasn’t worth getting worked up over. He casually tossed another prime cut toward the little wolf, which caught it mid-air in a single bite.

After processing the mutated wild boar’s meat and nucleus crystal and storing them in the warehouse, and letting the little wolf stay in the spatial pocket to sleep, Jiang Le set off on his return journey, leaping back through the gap in the wall.

He slipped back into the tin shack and lay down in his own spot.

Zhang Haiyang was a light sleeper. In his fitful slumber, he sensed Jiang Le coming and going, but assumed he’d just been to the bathroom. Early the next morning, Zhang Haiyang, with his wound roughly bandaged, headed to the mission dispatch area at the base with Jiang Le. The place was already crowded, with superpower users clustered in one group and ordinary people in another.

The tasks available to ordinary people were usually simple manual labor and cleanup, but the rewards for such work were meager—often not enough to secure much food

Another common task for ordinary people was clearing out zombies.

The proportion of humans who have turned into zombies is extremely high. The total number of zombies nationwide is roughly around one billion, and it is by no means a task that can be cleared up in a day or two. Even without food, zombies continue to move aimlessly, often gathering in groups and wandering from one place to another. Some small outposts have been wiped out by sudden zombie surges at night.

So even when there are no zombie attacks, clearing out nearby zombies is a crucial task.

This was the kind of work Zhang Haiyang had been doing, but the returns weren’t enough. If he were on his own, the food he gathered from a day of killing zombies would barely be enough to fill him six or seven-tenths of the way. But he had a wife and daughter—especially since Tangyuan was still young and couldn’t do without her mother’s care—which meant the household was temporarily short one working member. Zhang Haiyang had no choice but to shoulder the responsibility of finding food alone.

As soon as Zhang Haiyang arrived at the mission registration desk, several ordinary people immediately gathered around him, whispering questions about what had happened the previous day.

It turned out that as soon as Wang Weifeng returned yesterday, he went around telling everyone that they had encountered a very powerful mutated wild boar. He caused a scene at the mission assignment desk, claiming that the danger level had been underestimated and that it had nearly killed them all. Fortunately, only Zhang Haiyang had died; otherwise, the base would have lost four promising superpower users.

Hearing this, Zhang Haiyang turned pale with anger. They had abandoned him outright, yet showed no concern for him whatsoever; all they did was lament the loss of the superpower users’ lives.

The ordinary people gathered around him—those he usually got along with and often took missions with—were also indignant, venting their frustration with a barrage of comments.

“I told you yesterday when you went out with them—these people don’t treat us like human beings.” 

“They’re nothing but animals.”

“Brother Zhang, have you gone to ask them for yesterday’s pay yet? They should have paid you.”

“Those guys aren’t reasonable. Going to them would just be a waste of my time. I’d rather not bother…”

Zhang Haiyang remained silent.

Before they could reach a conclusion, the very people they were discussing appeared at the mission registration desk.

Wang Weifeng stood among the superpower users, bragging about his encounter with the mutated wild boar yesterday. He exaggerated his own role to the extreme, painting himself and his teammates as nothing short of saviors.

“I wonder where that boar ran off to. Next time I see it, I’m going to take its life!” Wang Weifeng said, bursting into laughter. But halfway through his laugh, he caught sight of Zhang Haiyang walking toward him out of the corner of his eye, and his laughter stopped.

Last night, he’d heard that Zhang Haiyang had actually returned to base. He’d muttered to himself that the unlucky bastard had a pretty thick skin, but he hadn’t given the matter a second thought. After all, it was just a close call for ordinary people—no big deal.

Zhang Haiyang showing up at a time like this was nothing short of interrupting his bragging session.

Fearing Zhang Haiyang might say something that would tarnish his image, Wang Weifeng cut him off first: “You’ve got some luck, kid. But if you hadn’t been running around recklessly yesterday, we wouldn’t have let that beast get out of control. If it hadn’t gotten out of control, we would’ve killed it right there. Just think of the trouble you’ve caused!”

Zhang Haiyang never expected Wang Weifeng to turn the tables on him like that before he’d even opened his mouth. To make matters worse, the few superpower users who’d been with him yesterday immediately caught on and chimed in as well.

With the threat in Wang Weifeng’s eyes, Zhang Haiyang stood no chance. Wages? He’d be lucky if Wang didn’t make him pay out of his own pocket. Unable to argue his way out of it or fight his way out of it, Zhang Haiyang could only return to his original spot, his face flushed with embarrassment.

Everyone had expected this outcome. No matter how angry they were, there was nothing they could do. This was no longer a time when the law could uphold justice, let alone any notion of fairness or righteousness.

“Forget it, Brother Zhang. Come kill zombies with us today,” someone pulled Zhang Haiyang aside and whispered.

Zhang Haiyang knew he had no choice but to swallow his pride. He nodded, then belatedly remembered to introduce Jiang Le, who had been standing silently on the sidelines the whole time. “This is Jiang Le. He just joined our base yesterday and hasn’t killed any zombies before. Let’s bring him along today.”

Hunting zombies alone was dangerous, so ordinary people would form small, trusted squads. After killing the zombies, they’d split the loot roughly equally, banding together to survive.

Suddenly adding someone with no zombie-killing experience would inevitably slow the team down. The group exchanged glances; it would be a lie to say they weren’t hesitant.

Jiang Le spoke up first: “Brother Zhang, you guys go ahead. I want to try joining a team of superpower users and see what higher-level missions are like.” 

“Actually, it’s not like you can’t come with us.”

“Exactly, you should stick with us.”

Zhang Haiyang didn’t approve of Jiang Le’s decision either, especially given his bad luck the day before.

Jiang Le thanked them for their kindness, glanced at Wang Weifeng in the distance, and, gripping the strap of his backpack, smiled at Zhang Haiyang: “Brother Zhang, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing, and my luck has always been pretty good—nothing bad has ever happened to me.”

Zhang Haiyang might not have believed it if anyone else had claimed to be lucky, but coming from Jiang Le—a man who remained so innocent even in the aftermath of the apocalypse—it seemed he must truly have exceptional luck to still be able to casually pull out candy and cookies to give to others at a time like this.

But precisely because of that, Zhang Haiyang was even more reluctant to let Jiang Le go to his death. However, before he could open his mouth to dissuade him, Jiang Le had already strided toward the area where the superpower users were gathered.

There were a few ordinary people gathered here as well, all hoping to squeeze into a team of superpower users and take a chance to get their hands on more supplies. But there were only a handful of squads willing to recruit ordinary people, and their approach was largely similar to that of Wang Weifeng and his group.

However, because of what Wang Weifeng had just said to Zhang Haiyang, even if no one said anything out loud, everyone had a pretty good idea of what was going on. As a result, there were hardly any people crowding around Wang Weifeng at the moment.

Jiang Le stepped forward and spoke politely, a mild smile on his face: “Bro, are you guys heading out on a mission today? Do you need any extra hands? I’m pretty good at running and have good stamina—could you take me along?”

Although Jiang Le’s face was a bit sallow, his features were regular and well-proportioned, making it hard to take a dislike to him at first glance. The black backpack on his back and the watch on his wrist made him look more like an ordinary worker heading to a job, giving off not a hint of menace.

Wang Weifeng had been worried about finding cannon fodder, so he immediately replied cheerfully, “Sure, why not? Come with us.”

Zhang Haiyang kept glancing over from a distance. Seeing Jiang Le follow Wang Weifeng away, he couldn’t help but stamp his foot and sigh. But with the need to earn his daily bread looming, he had no choice but to set off with his teammates, his heart in his throat.

Having learned from yesterday’s lesson, Wang Weifeng chose a safer mission today. The base had discovered a colony of mutated locusts infesting a dilapidated factory complex that still held some value. They needed to be cleared out so the area could be reused.

The mission briefing briefly outlined the current state of the mutated locusts: they were gregarious, had grown larger, moved faster, and could detect human presence—even heartbeats—to pinpoint locations. Once they latched on, they caused massive blood loss and drew even more danger.

However, locusts are vulnerable to heat and fire. They are not particularly difficult to eliminate; as long as you maintain a safe distance and proceed with caution, you should be fine.

The danger level of this mission is lower than that of the mutated wild boars. With two fire-elemental superpower users in the Fengmang Squad, the air barrier, and Wang Weifeng’s petrification skill, he was confident they could wipe out these locusts in one fell swoop.

As for Jiang Le, who had volunteered, Wang Weifeng thought to himself that if he wasn’t needed, so be it; if he was, he’d simply use him as disposable cannon fodder to absorb some of the damage.

Jiang Le lagged behind the group, pretending he couldn’t keep up, but in reality, he seized an opportunity to secretly release the little wolf from his spatial pocket, letting it roam freely outside during the day.

A strange energy fluctuation seemed to ripple through the air, carrying a sense of danger. Wang Weifeng turned his head suspiciously, but all he saw was the figure of that dim-witted kid struggling to keep up with them.

Probably just my imagination, Wang Weifeng thought. If there really were any danger, that fool would be the first to die. As long as he was still alive and well, it meant they were perfectly safe.

Abandoning Zhang Haiyang at the brink of death yesterday seemed to have unlocked a forbidden barrier in Wang Weifeng’s heart, making him no longer view abandoning others as a difficult choice.

Upon reaching the old factory complex, the air carried a distinct dampness, mingled with a faint, lingering stench of decay, as if rotting flesh and blood had been left to decompose there. Mottled concrete walls, rusted metal pipes, and unidentifiable greenery stretched into the depths of the interior, where sunlight could not penetrate. Wang Weifeng stopped in front of the factory gate and raised his hand to signal those behind him to halt as well.

“We can’t pinpoint the locusts’ location, so until we know where they are, everyone should try to move and breathe as quietly as possible—no sudden movements or loud noises.”

He looked pointedly at Jiang Le, who nodded earnestly. “Got it.”

Wang Weifeng had expected to see fear on Jiang Le’s face, but to his surprise, the kid looked genuinely naive and innocent. He looked away, speechless.

To test the mutated locusts, Wang Weifeng picked up a piece of loose concrete and hurled it forcefully into the empty factory building. The stone struck the floor with a clang, the sound echoing endlessly through the interior.

Yet this commotion elicited not a single response; clearly, the mutated creatures inside were fully capable of distinguishing whether the source of the sound was something edible.

Wang Weifeng decided to use the same old trick again and said to Jiang Le, “I have a feeling the mutated locusts might not be inside anymore. You go in first and take a look. Don’t worry—we’ll be right behind you, ready to protect you with an air barrier at any moment.”

He had expected Jiang Le to refuse, but to his surprise, Jiang Le simply gave a noncommittal “Oh” and strode right inside.

He strode around the factory grounds, glanced back at Wang Weifeng and the others watching him from outside the building, then looked around before saying, “Brother Wang, it looks like everything’s really fine.”

“Damn, I hope this wasn’t a wasted trip.” Seeing this, Wang Weifeng and the others hurried into the factory.

Of course, it wasn’t a wasted trip. In fact, even before they’d fully entered the factory, Jiang Le had already heard the sound of countless tiny insects scurrying through the interconnected pipes in every corner of the building. In the darkness, they were constantly sniffing out the scent of flesh and blood. Though they lacked sight, they possessed an extremely acute sense of smell; the moment they detected the scent of blood or sweat, they would lock onto the source and close in rapidly.

Even without mutation, land locusts are extremely troublesome creatures.

The only reason Jiang Le could move about so brazenly without being attacked was that every creature has its natural enemy. While land locusts pose a significant threat to flesh-and-blood creatures, they are powerless against plants—especially blood vine, which shares their origin and similar aggressive nature.

The blood vine was hidden inside the wristwatch-shaped cultivation vessel on Jiang Le’s wrist; as soon as he lifted the lid, its tendrils would burst forth. As creatures that both subsist on flesh and blood, the locusts could not feed on the blood vine, yet the blood vine could easily absorb them.

Consequently, no matter how desperate they were for Jiang Le’s flesh, their instinctive sense of danger kept them from making a move, leaving them to grow even more restless inside the pipes.

Until Wang Weifeng and his group walked in.

Flesh—flesh within easy reach, so much of it, with such a fresh scent!

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud. The sound echoed through the rusted metal pipes, growing louder with each layer, like the sound of rain. It started as a faint murmur, but eventually became an unignorable, frenzied drumbeat. It created an eerie echo within the mottled, dilapidated factory, stirring unease in everyone’s hearts.

Wang Weifeng swallowed hard and said, “I heard that as soon as they catch a whiff of blood, the dry locusts will swarm. Jiang—whatever your name is—you bleed a little to lure them out. Once they’re all out, we’ll round them all up at once. I’ll make sure you’re safe!”

It sounded good in theory, but if they waited until all the locusts had emerged before acting, Jiang Le would likely be nothing but a dried-up husk by then if he lacked the ability to defend himself.

As he spoke, he pulled out a dagger and handed it to Jiang Le, telling him to do it himself. He added, “Hurry up. If you delay the mission, don’t expect us to share any supplies with you.”

“Alright then.” Jiang Le took the dagger, gave Wang Weifeng a piercing look, and chose to cut a small slit in his own arm. Bright red blood immediately began to flow, dripping onto Wang Weifeng’s boots—though he didn’t notice.

The scent of blood indeed made the land locusts even more frantic; unable to contain themselves any longer, they leaped out of the crack in the pipe, scuttled along the wall, and fell to the ground, surging forward like a swarm of insects.

As if that weren’t enough, Wang Weifeng shoved Jiang Le—who was clutching his arm—forward. Jiang Le stumbled a couple of steps, his footing slipping; the manhole cover above the drain shattered into dust. He let out a cry of alarm and fell in.

As he fell, he narrowly missed the surging wave of locusts. Even those few drawn by the scent of blood that tried to leap onto him were blocked by the blood vine’s tendrils, which snapped open like an umbrella. The remaining locusts dared not approach the blood vine, and the wave could only thunder onward toward Jiang Le, seeking a better target to pursue.

No one witnessed what happened in the sewer; the blood vine casually sent the blocked land locusts out through the cracks in the sewer.

Jiang Le’s fingertips brushed against the docile vine. He pulled several zombie nucleus crystals from his spatial pocket and fed them to the blood vine as if offering candy. The vine accepted them all without hesitation, and before retracting into its cultivation dish, it even licked the blood from Jiang Le’s wounds clean.

Meanwhile, Wang Weifeng and the others above hadn’t expected Jiang Le to fall. Though startled, they were surprised to find that the locusts didn’t pursue him but instead charged single-mindedly toward their intended target.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Wang Weifeng shouted. “Air Barrier, Petrify, Fire Breath—don’t lose your composure!”

An air barrier formed instantly, barely holding back the mutant wild boar but proving more than sufficient to stop the mutant locusts.

Seeing that the swarm of leaping locusts had indeed been stopped, Wang Weifeng felt a great sense of relief. He immediately activated his Petrification skill, and the mutated locusts, which had been jumping nonstop, instantly turned to stone and fell from the sky like raindrops.

Just one more burst of fire would take care of most of the mutated locusts!

A flicker of excitement flashed in Wang Weifeng’s eyes, but before the fire could erupt, he suddenly felt a void beneath his feet.

He hurriedly looked down and saw that, at some point, a swarm of mutated locusts had surged out of the sewer beneath his feet, targeting his left leg. They had already crawled all over the top of his shoe, and that sense of emptiness was actually coming from the sole of his foot!

The mutated land locusts no longer merely sucked blood. Utilizing their ability to paralyze wounds, they sucked in flesh and blood alike, swallowing all the tissue beneath the skin into their bellies. They burrowed beneath the skin to feast until only an empty shell remained, then crawled back out, leaving the body—deprived of flesh and blood—looking like a deflated balloon.

Wang Weifeng had no idea what was happening beneath his shoe, but to stop the damage, he frantically petrified these newly emerged locusts—along with his own foot. His petrified foot was temporarily numb, but he had to keep fighting.

After five or six consecutive charges, the number of land locusts finally began to dwindle, until they were all reduced to ashes by the flames, falling onto the damp ground.

Wang Weifeng was drenched in sweat and felt a vague sense of weakness within him. Only then did he plop down and take off his boots.

He had hoped it was just a superficial injury, but the moment he saw the wound, his heart sank. He hadn’t expected that in just over ten seconds, his entire foot—along with his calf—had been completely hollowed out! Beneath the translucent skin, the dark-colored locusts were temporarily trapped by the petrification, though some were still writhing at a snail’s pace, their shapes grotesque and terrifying.

Once the petrification wore off, they would spring into action again—this leg was already ruined.

Gritting his teeth, Wang Weifeng slashed open his skin with a dagger. The locusts inside fell out, exposing the white bone beneath.

Seeing this, the others sucked in a sharp breath, silently grateful that the locusts hadn’t landed on them.

“Fuck, goddamn, goddamn locusts!!” Wang Weifeng raged helplessly, his heart filled with endless resentment, wondering why he had to be so unlucky.

Just then, a sound suddenly echoed from the sewer again. The group’s nerves, which hadn’t fully relaxed yet, tensed up once more. Even Wang Weifeng swallowed his curse, staring nervously at the source of the sound, ready at any moment to face the mutated leech again.

However, what appeared first was a hand—it didn’t look like it belonged to a corpse. Given its location, it made them think of Jiang Le, who had fallen in earlier.

“Jiang…?” Wang Weifeng spoke in disbelief, yet felt it was completely impossible.

He’d only been splashed with a few drops of Jiang Le’s blood and had already suffered such misfortune. If ordinary people like Jiang Le fell into the sewer with wounds, shouldn’t he have been sucked dry by the surging locusts in an instant?

The next second, Jiang Le’s head emerged. He braced himself against the opening and crawled out, flashing Wang Weifeng a harmless smile.