Chapter 62: The Coming of the Apocalypse

Could it be that Qin Tian also possesses a spatial ring? I grabbed his hand and scrutinized it closely. A jet-black ring, identical to mine—no wonder this guy never runs out of cigarettes. Dragon pattern, spatial ring, demonic physique, everything I have, he has too, except for my looks. This kid is defying the heavens.

“Old Li, have you stared enough? I have no interest in men,” Qin Tian exhaled a cloud of smoke as he spoke.

“Get lost, I was looking at your ring. Where did you get this thing?” I let go of his hand and asked.

“Oh, an old man gave it to me. He said I’d meet someone who’d really get along with me in the future. Could it be you? I thought it’d be a beautiful woman,” Qin Tian replied, his face full of disappointment.

“What did the old man look like?” I lit a cigarette and asked.

“Hunched back, looked sickly,” Qin Tian said.

“What?” Hearing this, I thought of my master, and the smoke made me cough violently. My master was hunched, appearing aged and frail. But Mo Third said he had always impersonated my master—so who was lying?

“What was the old man's name?” I took a deep drag and asked.

“He didn’t say, only mentioned his surname was Zhang,” Qin Tian said, seizing the Desert Eagle from my hand.

Surname Zhang—could it really be my master?

“Are you two done yet? Hurry up, I’m starving,” Xiao Xiang Ke’er complained.

Yu Jing solemnly wrapped Xiao Xiang Ke’er in his arms, “Ke’er is right. Let’s walk and talk—we’d best find shelter before nightfall.”

The group pressed onward. I had thought the ordinary members of the Azure Dragon Gang would slow us down, but it seems I worried needlessly. Though unable to fly, their stamina far surpassed ordinary people; after two hours of continuous marching, none were even short of breath.

We had traveled over a hundred kilometers beyond the Misty Forest; at this pace, we’d reach Phoenix Blue City in less than ten days. I was eager to see Lan Yue. As we moved through a patch of wild grass, something stirred within. I quickly signaled everyone to halt, my revolver already in hand, while Qin Tian raised the Desert Eagle and aimed.

After a while, nothing seemed amiss. Qin Tian and I approached cautiously, guns at the ready. Pushing aside the grass, a ragged middle-aged man sprang out, arms extended to attack.

“Don’t be rash, we’re not bad people,” I retreated as I spoke. But the man seemed not to hear, reaching for me relentlessly. I kicked him to the ground, gun aimed at his head.

He tried to rise, but I holstered my revolver and pinned him down. At close range, I saw something was seriously wrong. His face was ashen, eyes grey, and his neck was ravaged with rot—so much so that a maggot crawled from the wound.

I sprang to my feet, nearly retching. Qin Tian had noticed too, the Desert Eagle trained on the man’s head. If he made a move, Qin Tian would blow his brains out in an instant.

“He’s infected by the virus. He’s already dead,” Murong Xue stepped forward.

“What?” I looked at her in disbelief, hoping for answers.

Murong Xue crouched to examine him. The man lunged for her, and as I prepared to shoot, his body suddenly ignited. Murong Xue stood up and said, “They’re no longer human. Next time you see one, kill it directly. Perhaps that’s the only way to set them free.”

Where had I heard those words before? Right! They sounded like lines from a movie, and the burning corpse before me was eerily reminiscent of cinematic zombies. Has the apocalypse arrived? Could the twenty-first century also be on the brink of disaster? But returning there is impossible; worrying is futile. I’d better solve the problem at hand.

After nearly a day of travel, everyone was hungry. The food in my spatial ring was long gone—if this continued, we’d die of exhaustion or starvation.

Suddenly, sounds of combat came from ahead. I signaled everyone to wait as I rode the wind forward. A few hundred meters away, I crept through the grass, drawing near. Ahead, five or six people were battling a zombie. This particular zombie was unusually tall, over two meters, muscles bulging with explosive strength. The group was desperately resisting.

“Captain, I’ll hold it off—you all go,” a young man wielding a spear said. The spear struck the zombie’s body as if hitting steel; no matter how hard they tried, it did no harm.

“Huzi, what are you saying! We’re a team. Before we formed up, we agreed: live and die together—never abandon a comrade. At worst, we’ll die as one,” the captain, a middle-aged man, said as he dodged the zombie’s claws.

“Ah!” A tragic cry rang out. The weakest man in the group fell in a pool of blood, his head severed, neck spraying blood as if it cost nothing, his eyes wide and staring.

“Chen Liang!” the captain shouted at the corpse, but only Chen Liang’s lifeless eyes responded.

“Damn it, I’ll fight you to the death!” The captain dropped his broadsword, clenched his fists, and charged.

The zombie grabbed the captain by the neck, who swung his fists at its head.

“Don’t worry about me—run!” he shouted after delivering his final punch. The zombie’s other hand reached out, and the captain was about to be decapitated. The remaining three stood frozen, forgetting to flee or rescue him. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to help, but they simply had no way—they were ordinary people with no martial skills.

Bang. The sound of a gunshot. Blood burst from the zombie’s eye as I stepped out of the grass.

The zombie loosened its grip, falling backward, and the captain collapsed to the ground, coughing uncontrollably.

“You saved the captain?” the young man called Huzi asked.

I holstered my revolver. “It was nothing, just a small favor.”

“Thank you, heroic one!” Huzi knelt, overflowing with gratitude. The other two knelt as well. The captain struggled to his feet, “Young master, your kindness is unforgettable. Please accept my bow!”

I quickly helped him up. “Everyone, stand.”

Only then did they rise. After some questioning, their answers left me stunned. So much had changed in just a few days! Could the apocalypse truly be here?

A few days ago, the stars shifted. In the dead of night, it suddenly became bright as day. Moments later, the white light vanished, and everything returned to normal. Wang Tao and Huzi were from the same village. That night, they were catching fish at the creek outside the village when the white light flashed across the sky. Sensing something was wrong, they dropped their baskets and hurried home.

Nearly every house was lit, and screams echoed through the village. They crept to a window, poked a hole in the paper, and peered inside by the weak candlelight.

Their neighbor Er Gou was on top of his wife. Looking closely, they were horrified—Er Gou was devouring his wife’s body, crimson flesh clinging to his mouth. Wang Tao couldn’t control his emotions and shouted, alerting Er Gou inside. Er Gou staggered toward them, not bothering to go around the table, instead smashing it aside. The candle fell onto the bedding, igniting a raging fire. The village was destroyed, and Wang Tao and Huzi’s families were caught in the disaster. They fled all the way to Qingmu Town, where they finally settled.

Qingmu Town, nestled against the mountains, covered less than a hundred meters. Calling it a town was generous—more accurately, it was a small village. A few residents there knew basic martial arts, so it had not been overrun by zombies.