Published: February 7, 2025
“Sorry, I'm late!”
Ying City seemed to have returned to its usual calmness, even the bloody smell in the air had faded significantly.
However, no one was naive enough to think that nothing would happen in this city; on the contrary, due to the battles of the past few days, there were many gaps left behind which created opportunities for both people and mutated beings to fill. The process of filling these gaps would actually be much bloodier than the previous battles at the Poppy Wheel.
Blood would continue to flow as long as the apocalypse existed.
Ye Zhongming carried a bag containing some daily necessities, while the important items were stored in two separate spaces. He walked alone on the streets of Ying City, feeling a sense of returning to his past life.
He remembered that during those times, he often left the camp alone, not straying far, but just practicing his shooting skills on the outskirts of the base, taking the opportunity to kill some low-level mutated beings to make up for the bullet loss.
But before mastering his shooting skills, he was still at a loss.
Those hard days still made Ye Zhongming feel a bit uneasy when he thought back on them, as he had been extremely poor. Yet, after being reborn, he oddly found himself reminiscing about those times.
In the aftermath of his rebirth, Ye Zhongming lived a life that was millions of times better than in his past. Yet, he still did not feel invincible, much like a saying that left a deep impression on him from the web novels he read during peacetime:
Not everyone who is reborn can become Jobs or Bill Gates.
Ye Zhongming never thought that just because he was reborn, he could look down on the world. He still maintained the utmost clarity and humility in his actions.
He would not underestimate any life nor neglect any enemy.
Just like today, with dangers lurking ahead, he continued to move forward.
Looking up, Ye Zhongming sniffed the air; the aura of killing was already spreading.
…………………………………………………………………………
“The visibility is great; today is a good day for takeoff.”
In the cockpit, Sun Wanhu, wearing a flight helmet, had a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
There were no damned takeoff regulations now, nor was there a proud and aloof flight inspector lying in the manager's office like a dog.
Her corpse was probably already rotting in the soil.
“Big Tiger, remember, the drug's effect only lasts three minutes, which means you must drop this thing within three minutes of takeoff, with an error of no more than thirty meters. Otherwise, it may not find this target this time. Is that clear?”
A guy wearing a white lab coat and thick glasses approached the cockpit and said to the seemingly indifferent Sun Wanhu.
“Got it, got it. I’m telling you, glasses, didn’t your eyesight improve after your evolution? Why are you still wearing those? They look terrible! Do you know what the girls in the underground art clubs say about you? They say you must be some kind of pervert!”
Sun Wanhu spat out the remaining half of his cigarette butt, accurately hitting the abandoned control tower, sparking scattered embers.
The young man adjusted his thick black-frame glasses, nodded, and continued, “Also, the whole battle must be recorded. Drones won’t do; it has to be you. Understand, this is extremely valuable data. This time, the fees will be based on this, and it will also be a favorable bargaining chip for our future cooperation with various factions. Don’t mess it up. If we encounter flying mutated beings, you must complete the task!”
Sun Wanhu shook his head, responding off-topic, “When I get back tonight, I’ll treat you to ‘Pink’. What do you think, glasses? I’ll splurge, a Grade 2 Magic Crystal is enough to make the prettiest girls serve you like you’re on cloud nine. Let me tell you, a woman’s body is much softer and more delicate than those monsters!”
“If you don’t do what I assigned to you properly, I can guarantee that your overblown self-praise of ‘28’ will never be used again, and by tomorrow morning, certain spherical things below ‘28’ will turn into two scorching, medium-rare fried eggs on the plate of that 18th-century English queen used by the director.”