Chapter 83
Ah Jiu abruptly raised his head.
The solemn expression on the man’s face disappeared, replaced by a fleeting look of surprise and helplessness, as if he were a puppy suddenly realizing it was about to be abandoned.
It took him a long moment to press his lips together, set the document in his hands aside, and turn his full attention to the young man standing before him.
“Is there something in City Rose that hasn’t met your expectations?” Ah Jiu interlocked his fingers, his tone calm and steady. “Tell me, and I’ll handle it.”
Wen Xin immediately shook his head. “No, the City Lord’s arrangements have been meticulous. Everyone here has taken great care of me, and I’ve been doing well.”
“But I still have three family members I haven’t found. Until I can confirm their safety with my own eyes, I can’t rest easy.”
Ah Jiu hadn’t expected this reason.
But as Wen Xin explained, Ah Jiu realized it made perfect sense.
Lowering his gaze, Ah Jiu pressed his knuckles discreetly. He didn’t want Wen Xin to leave. The words to persuade him lingered on his lips, unspoken.
Yet, looking at the determination in the young man’s eyes, Ah Jiu ultimately swallowed them back and replied hoarsely, “Alright.”
Wen Xin had already prepared everything he’d need for the journey.
The car didn’t need extraordinary performance but had to have durable glass, capable of withstanding sudden zombie attacks. Alongside that were essentials like common medicines, high-calorie compressed food, insect repellent and mosquito coils for the spring pests, and lighting tools such as flashlights and glow sticks.
Xiao Qi, the fox, was returning to the Idealism Sect and couldn’t accompany them. Perched atop the car, it chattered away reluctantly, “Be careful on the road. If something seems wrong, stand behind and let Ah Lü protect you.”
Wen Xin chuckled. “Alright, I’ll hide behind Ah Lü when the time comes.”
“Always cook your food thoroughly. Don’t eat anything if you’re unsure whether it’s safe.”
“Got it, no eating strange things.”
“If you’re tired, stop and rest. Don’t push yourself. And if it rains, make sure to stay dry, or you’ll get sick.”
“Understood.” Wen Xin wasn’t annoyed by the nagging. Smiling, he ruffled the fox’s ears, bumped his forehead against its own, and said, “I’ll remember everything.”
With great reluctance, Xiao Qi nuzzled his cheek. “Make sure to come back and find me, Wen Xin.”
Ah Jiu, who had been quietly standing nearby, finally spoke after they finished. “Don’t worry. While you’re away looking for Ah Zi, I’ll have people work on locating Xiao Hei and Lan Tuan.”
He added, “But Lan Tuan likes water. If it chooses a habitat, it probably won’t stray far from the sea. You might find it near the South Sea.”
Wen Xin nodded. “I’ll search along the coast.”
But the world’s seas extended far beyond the South Sea; Lan Tuan could be elsewhere entirely.
Ah Jiu hummed softly in acknowledgment. Then, with a sudden motion, he gestured toward the sky. A white carrier pigeon descended, landing gracefully beside him.
“If you encounter danger, have it deliver a message to me,” Ah Jiu said.
Ah Lü, the green-scaled viper, yawned lazily. “Relax, Wen Xin has me.”
It gave San San, the red panda, a nudge. “Your nose is sharp, so remember to sniff around a lot.”
The red panda blinked its wide, watery eyes. “Okay!”
Ah Jiu shook his head resolutely. “Better to have a backup plan.”
Wen Xin tentatively extended his hand toward the pigeon.
The little creature was a C-class mutant, but its size and appearance hadn’t changed much. Its personality remained docile and simple.
Seeing the porcelain-like hand extended toward it, the pigeon obediently hopped onto Wen Xin’s finger.
Stroking its feathers, Wen Xin nodded. “Alright.”
Tang Qi was heading back to City B with Xiao Qi.
Having joined the sect late, he hadn’t been involved in its core operations. The only time he’d participated in an action was when he’d been under someone’s control. Returning now, he hoped for leniency.
The two friends shared a brief hug, patting each other’s backs as a gesture of farewell.
Tang Qi said with light-hearted relief, “I still have those dreams, but I’ve stopped obsessing over whether they’re real or not. Living well in the present is what matters most.”
Wen Xin was genuinely happy for him. “That’s good to hear.”
“Oh, right, Wen Xin.”
Just as Wen Xin was turning to leave, Tang Qi called out to him, hesitating briefly before speaking. “Have you been in touch with your brother recently?”
His brother—Wen Jinfeng?
Wen Xin’s intuition told him there was more to the question. He replied, “I have. Why?”
In early spring, Wen Xin had received a letter from Wen Jinfeng. It had contained belated birthday wishes, New Year’s greetings, and a question:
When will you finally come back and visit your lonely, empty-nest brother?
The letter was steeped in loneliness and grievance, utterly unlike Wen Jinfeng’s usual tone. Most likely, it had been written by his secretary on his behalf.
Wen Xin’s lips twitched at the thought, yet he couldn’t help feeling amused.
Even so, he couldn’t return home just yet. Instead, he had sent a letter to reassure Wen Jinfeng, informing him of his upcoming journey. But with the distance involved, it would likely take a few days for the letter to reach City A.
Tang Qi’s eyes flickered with unease. “It’s nothing too serious, but I keep dreaming about people discussing your brother. They said he’s cooperating with the First Base.”
The moment he said this, the others—Ah Lü, San San, and the rest—exchanged discreet, wary glances.
“The First Base…” Wen Xin frowned.
To be honest, more than any resentment over being dragged into their bounty scheme, what Wen Xin felt toward the First Base was a deep sense of wariness.
It was a subtle instinct born from observation, the kind that might seem laughable to others. After all, the First Base’s contributions to humanity were widely acknowledged.
Not every base had the audacity to take in tens of thousands of refugees during the apocalypse.
Nor did every base possess the military arsenal or the powerful defenses the First Base wielded to fend off zombie tides and mutated threats.
For the average person, the mention of the First Base often brought admiration and respect.
Wen Xin mulled it over for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think my brother would. Not long ago, he and—”
He glanced meaningfully at Ah Jiu before continuing, “—and the City Lord of Rose worked together to take down three weapons factories belonging to someone else. I don’t know how they resolved things privately afterward, but I doubt they’d make peace so quickly.”
Ah Jiu, deep in thought, furrowed his brows as though recalling something.
Wen Xin asked Tang Qi, “Are you suggesting something bad happened after my brother started working with the First Base?”
Tang Qi scratched his head, hesitant. “I can’t say for sure… but after that cooperation, your brother mysteriously disappeared.”
Fearing Wen Xin might worry, Tang Qi quickly added, “You know how disjointed my dreams are—they’re never entirely consistent. Some are accurate, some aren’t. I might just be overthinking it. Don’t dwell on it, alright?”
But Wen Xin took the warning to heart.
Tang Qi had once dreamt of their meeting at the Beast Arena, accurately describing its name, the types of mutants inside, and even the appearance of the Maze Master. Such details couldn’t have been fabricated.
Moreover, from City A’s perspective, contact with the First Base—humanity’s largest surviving base—was inevitable as both factions expanded.
In business, there were no permanent friends or enemies. This principle held even more true between two major powers.
The possibility of cooperation wasn’t low.
Catching the worry in Tang Qi’s eyes, Wen Xin offered him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I know you’re concerned for me.”
Right there in front of Tang Qi, Wen Xin asked Ah Jiu to send another letter to City A on his behalf.
Of course, Wen Xin wouldn’t write something as absurd as, “A friend dreamed you worked with the First Base and might get screwed over, so don’t work with them.”
Even if Wen Jinfeng didn’t question his sanity, Wen Xin himself found the reasoning untenable.
Instead, he adjusted the message, pointing out the First Base’s past attempts to harm him.
As Wen Jinfeng’s younger brother, Wen Xin suggested, he could easily become a target should the First Base harbor ill intentions.
He emphasized his warning at the end: “Be wary of the First Base.”
After some thought, Wen Xin thickened the letters and made them bold.
Tang Qi, watching from the side, was deeply moved. He hadn’t expected Wen Xin to trust him so much.
“Being cautious is never a bad thing. I should be thanking you for bringing this to my attention,” Wen Xin said.
Though Tang Qi had intended to ignore his dreams and fully embrace reality, his concern for Wen Xin had made him reconsider.
Wen Xin understood how rare such loyalty was and hugged him tightly. “Take care, and be safe.”
Tang Qi, his eyes slightly wet, returned the sentiment. “You too. Be careful out there.”
At the border between the western and southern regions lay a market as vast as a prefecture-level city, commonly referred to as the Market of Desires.
Its manager had once boldly declared, “The five desires of mankind—wealth, lust, fame, food, and rest—are all here. Whatever you seek, you’ll find it in endless supply.”
Despite being established less than half a year into the apocalypse, the Market of Desires had not only survived but thrived. Its continued growth was a testament to the manager’s capabilities.
Beneath the market’s landmark sign sat a man in tattered clothes. His nails were caked with blood and grime, and a filthy sheet was spread before him as a makeshift stall.
The stall displayed nothing but a gaunt, expressionless child.
Whenever a passerby approached, the man’s eyes would gleam as he grabbed the child, rushing to ask if they wanted to buy a helper.
Nearby, a woman with a vacant stare sat in front of another stall. Using a bucket of water as a makeshift mirror, she ran her fingers through her hair, tidying it sloppily before flashing a saccharine smile. Hooking her fingers onto a passerby’s waistband, she cooed, “Just half a pack of instant noodles, and I’m yours~.”
Not far away, two people were arguing with a patrol team. Suddenly, one was shoved violently to the ground.
They hit the dirt with a heavy thud, glaring defiantly, but before they could rise, a cold blade flashed.
With a wet gush, blood sprayed from their slit throats, and two heads rolled to the ground.
The surrounding crowd stirred faintly but quickly returned to calm.
Vendors on either side of the road seemed unfazed by the earlier execution. Once the patrol team left, they resumed their hawking.
“Come take a look! Weapons crafted from mutated beasts! As tough as steel drills and razor-sharp, perfect for self-defense!”
Hearing this, someone stopped and approached, asking, “How much?”
“This one’s five compressed biscuits, and that one’s at least four bottles of water…”
The potential buyer frowned. “That’s a bit steep.”
The vendor smiled broadly, standing to deliver an energetic pitch. “We lost several brothers just to gather the materials for these. Try it out; you won’t be disappointed! In times like these, you need a good weapon for self-defense, don’t you?”
The passerby appeared tempted, but another vendor interjected. “He’s overcharging! Look at mine—just three compressed biscuits!”
“And did you see that blade earlier, the one that cut those heads clean off? It’s the same material as my knife here, made from the horn of a C-class mutant!”
Deeper into the market, the scene grew noticeably different. Patrols were doubled, the streets spotless, and actual storefronts lined the area.
At one such establishment, a man with two women draped over his arms swept an untouched meal off the table. The porcelain bowl shattered on the ground, soup splattering everywhere.
The restaurant owner hurriedly wiped his greasy hands on his apron and ran over, soon dropping to his knees, pleading repeatedly for forgiveness.
The surrounding shopkeepers heard the commotion but kept their heads down, feigning ignorance.
Occasionally, they cast cautious glances at the towering skyscraper ahead, its peak piercing the clouds.
On the top floor, a man stood before a glass wall, idly swirling a glass of crimson liquid, as red as blood.
An elderly man sat nearby on a sofa, leaning on a cane. His expression shifted unpredictably as he said, “The City Lord of Rose is now consolidating power and declaring himself king. It won’t be long before he comes for this place, and you’re just sitting here?”
The man smiled lazily, his posture relaxed and confident. “He hasn’t even finished dealing with his own territory. How could he have time to meddle in our little operation?”
“And even if he does come, there’s nothing to worry about. Don’t forget—we have the backing of the First Base. The real concern isn’t him coming, but him not coming.”
The elder snorted softly but then asked with a curious, ambiguous tone, “Can the First Base truly do it? Give humans the abilities of mutants?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “If those beasts can set themselves up as kings, thinking they’re above everyone else, why can’t humans?”
He turned, gazing out over the chaotic, blood-soaked city below. His voice took on a sinister edge. “If the First Base’s calculations are correct, that blue whale will soon enter its evolution phase, and the tsunamis will subside.”
“The First Base gave us a few ‘big ones.’ Why not use them to dissect the whale’s body? No—an S-class mutant like that is too valuable to simply kill.”
He laughed, running his fingers slowly along the glass, his eyes bulging and bloodshot as he stared at the ant-like figures below.
“I hear the City Lord of Rose built a viewing platform to force everyone to look up at him. What do you think—should I build one too?”
The Market of Desires was as bustling and decadent as ever.
Nearby, a highway winding through the mountains saw the arrival of a small sedan.
A young man sat in the driver’s seat, wearing a mask and focusing intently on the road ahead.
The highway was smooth and unobstructed, a rare sight. Wen Xin sighed in relief. “Good thing someone cleared this road. No need to switch cars again.”
They had already changed vehicles five times, thanks to zombie hordes, car accidents, and collapsed buildings along the way.
Fortunately, Wen Xin had traveled light, avoiding unnecessary baggage. This made switching cars relatively easy.
Ah Lü lounged lazily in the passenger seat, eyes half-closed.
In the back, San San hugged a pillow, snoring blissfully. Drool pooled at the corner of its mouth as it murmured sweet dream-words: “Tasty… so good…”
Ah Lü shot a glance at the red panda, visibly unimpressed. “What on earth did you see in this little glutton to keep it around?”
Wen Xin chuckled. “It’s fine. A good appetite’s a blessing.”
“Yeah, just don’t let it eat you into bankruptcy,” Ah Lü retorted with a roll of its eyes.
At that moment, the rumble of a heavy transport truck echoed from up ahead.
Wen Xin slowed the car, avoiding any rash actions.
After pulling over, he climbed to a higher vantage point and pulled out a pair of binoculars to scout the source of the sound.
Ah Lü joined him. “What do you see?”
Through the binoculars, Wen Xin spotted a convoy of large transport trucks kicking up clouds of dust as they rumbled down the highway toward the city.
After observing for a moment, he noted that most of the trucks were loaded with sealed shipping containers. “Doesn’t look like much—just regular cargo trucks. Wait…”
One of the containers, covered with weatherproof tarpaulin, had a corner flipped up from the inside. A small hand clutched the railing, followed by a girl, around six or seven, clambering out.
But the truck was moving. She had nowhere to stand and tumbled heavily to the ground with a thud.
Next, a boy, roughly nine years old, climbed out after her. He managed to steady himself better but hesitated before leaping, landing farther away.
Screeech!
The truck screeched to a halt as those onboard realized something was wrong.
The boy stumbled to his feet, ran to the fallen girl, and dragged her away as fast as he could.
Several burly men descended from the truck, each wielding a gun. The two children, panicked and desperate, scrambled down the slope, tumbling as they went.
Wen Xin didn’t watch further. He swiftly grabbed Ah Lü, jumped back into the car, and sped into a narrow side path, racing toward the bottom of the hill.
The world spun violently for the boy, his vision filled with flying dirt and wild grasses whipping past.
He heard a heavy thud, followed by a searing pain that radiated from his back to his brain. The shock hit him so hard that his vision blacked out, and he couldn’t even scream.
Through blurry eyes, he saw the girl, sobbing and barely conscious, being lifted by one of the men. Swallowing the metallic taste of blood in his throat, he hoarsely cried out, “L-let… go… my… sis… Hai…”
Let her go! Let my sister go! I know where the Sea God is! Don’t hurt her!
The man holding the girl frowned with disgust as he wiped his hand over her tear-streaked, dirt-smeared face. He grabbed her by the neck, his voice cold. “These two scrawny monkeys aren’t worth much. They’ve been nothing but trouble the whole way—might as well kill them now and be done with it.”
Another man quickly grabbed his arm. “What the hell are you doing?! I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter if others die on the way, but not these two!”
The first man scowled. “Why are these two so special?”
“They’re fishermen from Mermaid Bay, in the South Sea. When that S-class ultra-danger mutant blue whale caused the tsunami, it didn’t harm the villagers in that fishing village. Do you know how rare it is to catch two who escaped?”
As the men whispered in heated discussion—
Bang!
A gunshot rang out. A bullet struck the man holding the girl in the shoulder. He immediately released her, letting out an agonized, guttural scream.
His companion turned in panic, shouting, “Who’s there?!”
