Chapter 5#

The Gymnasium#

Zhao Wanzhi’s expression was utterly complicated. Gu Cheng laughed. “Don’t worry. For now, Wanzhi should still be normal.”

Zhao Wanzhi: “…”

So, she wouldn’t be normal later?

“I don’t think we’re going to die, are we?” Zhao Yanzhi suddenly chimed in.

Gu Cheng nodded. “Exactly because of that, his first attempt to screw us over didn’t work. But later… we’re not completely immortal either. Under certain circumstances, we just might die. When the time comes, I’ll tell you.” He sighed. “I know going there is dangerous, but in this gradually desolate apocalypse, people are still willing to take that risk.”

Zhao Wanzhi couldn’t help glancing at Yang Junfei, who could easily score a 9 or above in looks, and thought to herself, This bastard ends up twisted later on—it’s definitely not her fault.

What woman hasn’t encountered one or two scumbags?

She was calm as still water, convinced that in this life, she could still be saved.

The “Mansha” that Feng Nanyun mentioned was a female soldier, full name Zhang Mansha. She had originally been a clerical worker in the military—soft, gentle, and delicately pretty. One look told you she had a good temper.

Facing a handsome guy made her even more patient, and her attitude remained perfectly courteous from start to finish.

“Do you have any specialties or abilities useful for the current situation, like being a doctor or skilled in planting?” Zhang Mansha explained. “That way, Commander Sang can assign you appropriately…”

Gu Cheng understood completely. In the apocalypse, people had to be “used to their fullest potential.” But before he could finish his thought, a commotion erupted beside them.

“Ah—!” A scream cut through the relative peace of the gymnasium, thick with noise. The heavy stench of blood spread. Zhao Yanzhi frowned subtly and took half a step back.

The smell here already made him deeply uncomfortable. After his fever, his already sharper-than-normal sense of smell had only intensified, making things even worse for someone with his cleanliness obsession.

Living in the apocalypse, Zhao Yanzhi knew too well that being overly particular would come off as pretentious, but he felt he still needed an adjustment period.

No matter how dim the light, it was still daytime—everyone could see clearly.

What stood before them was a person. But the look in his jaundiced eyes, the muddiness, and the blood and filth covering him made him seem less like a human being. He was holding an arm in his hands, gnawing at it, letting out satisfied grunts as he ate. The person he was gnawing on wasn’t dead yet. Bright red blood dripped drop by drop onto the wooden gymnasium floor, making a soft drip-drip sound.

Zhang Mansha had been sitting. She stood up, took two steps forward, and after taking in the scene, her face went pale. She froze in terror, paralyzed on the spot. At that exact moment, the “person” gnawing on the fresh arm lifted its head and met her eyes for a second.

Compared to the withered, elderly meal in its hands, the fresh, tender one before it was obviously better. Devourers had little awareness—they weren’t picky and valued their food—but when offered a better choice, they’d still go for it. So this young devourer, unwilling to let go of the arm, simply tore it off, clamped it between its teeth, and lunged toward the better meal.

Watching a blood-soaked “person” charge at her, Zhang Mansha wanted to scream, but her throat felt blocked, and not a sound came out.

She hadn’t developed a fever after that day—she was just an ordinary person.

“Move!”

It was Feng Nanyun who shouted. He sprinted over, but it was clearly too late.

The person standing closest to Zhang Mansha was Zhao Wanzhi.

Of course, Gu Cheng could have acted, but he didn’t. A single devourer—with Zhao Wanzhi’s abilities, it would be dealt with quickly.

Since the apocalypse began, the three of them had been partners. Gu Cheng deliberately let Zhao Yanzhi and Zhao Wanzhi get accustomed to this new world as quickly as possible. He never wanted to be their protector; he knew how strong his companions were. So he was just a guide.

A sharp gleam of blade light flashed. Everyone around instinctively squinted, as if the snowy white blade had stabbed their eyes.

But in truth, Zhao Wanzhi didn’t use any flashy skills. Just a basic Proud Frost Blade technique, followed by a whip-like kick that landed heavily on the attacking devourer.

Stepping on flames, raising the banner.

Feasting guests in a snow night, strolling as if riding a carriage.

Zhao Wanzhi stepped forward with an almost leisurely poise. This was a ranged skill from the Thunderous Leg set—anything within six feet in front of her that was recognized as an enemy target would instantly take significant damage and be knocked down for two seconds.

This was still the early apocalypse. The devourer’s strength was limited, and Zhao Wanzhi was an evolved new human. The power of a new human, stacked on top of skill damage, killed the devourer in an instant.

Gu Cheng knew well that devourers only truly died when their heads were cut off or their hearts shattered. Otherwise, their vitality and regenerative abilities—no less than a new human’s—would let them survive even with missing limbs.

But their skills worked differently from ordinary attacks. As long as the skill’s damage exceeded the devourer’s “health points,” no matter where they struck, the devourer’s heart would shatter the moment its health hit zero.

In other words, killing devourers was far simpler for them than for ordinary people.

In an instant, the entire gymnasium fell silent.

Zhao Wanzhi still stood there, her long legs wrapped in jeans. No one would have guessed such slender legs held such terrifying power.

The Proud Frost Blade in her hand glowed faintly, clearly no ordinary weapon. Only then did everyone realize that the bundle strapped to her back, wrapped in cloth, was a weapon this massive. It looked like a pair of large and small blades, but the thick-backed heavy blade also resembled a sheath for a slender saber—strange no matter how you looked at it.

And then, many eyes turned to the instrument case Zhao Yanzhi carried on his back.

Earlier, everyone had thought it was odd to be lugging an instrument case in the apocalypse. Now, seeing the weapon in Zhao Wanzhi’s hands, their imaginations ran wild.

Bright red blood slowly spread, the stench growing stronger. Zhao Yanzhi frowned, in a bad mood.

The person whose artery had been torn open by the devourer and whose arm had been ripped off had already stopped breathing. As an ordinary person, his vitality wasn’t strong, and he was older to boot. Surviving those few seconds without dying was already a miracle.

In that silence, something in the gymnasium seemed to stir restlessly. A chilling aura made people shiver involuntarily.

Gu Cheng frowned. “The devourers are being roused by appetite.”

His tone was calm, merely stating a fact, but it made everyone’s hair stand on end.

Before the restless devourers could make a move, a disheveled middle-aged woman screeched and rushed forward, throwing herself onto the dead devourer. “How dare you kill my son!” She glared viciously at Zhao Wanzhi, then collapsed on the ground, wailing. “I only have this one son! He was always well-behaved—he was just sick…”

Everyone looked at the bloody corpse on the floor. Few felt sympathy for her pitiful howling.

After all, there was no denying that this thing had been “eating people.”

“I don’t care! You killed my son—a life for a life…” She cried and threw a tantrum, reaching out to grab at Zhao Wanzhi.

Zhao Wanzhi stepped back. Gu Cheng, however, smiled. “Excuse me, ma’am. A life for a life? Do you really think this is still a peaceful, lawful society?”

Even if her son hadn’t turned into a devourer from the radiation, so what? In the apocalypse, who talks about an eye for an eye?

Gu Cheng was naturally handsome and gentle. When he smiled, his eyes shimmered like spring mist over distant mountains. No matter how sarcastic his smile, it still looked pleasing.

But the words that came out were sharp as knives.

The air grew heavy. Somewhere, the faint scent of blood drifted again.

Zhao Yanzhi looked up. A commotion had broken out in the corner.

Too many people here—if chaos erupted, it would be quite troublesome.

“Everyone, shut up!” The roar from the loudspeaker suppressed the brewing riot. Gu Cheng looked at the soldiers surrounding them, rifles raised in unison. That sound made most people flinch.

China had long banned guns, but no modern person was unaware of their power. People instinctively feared hot weapons.

One man stepped forward. He looked older, not wearing the same camo as Feng Nanyun. Though in plain clothes, his military bearing was unmistakable.

He swept his gaze across the scene and nodded to a young man beside him. “Play it for them.”

The young man nodded, took out a radio, and pressed it against the loudspeaker.

A crackling sound came for two seconds before a steady broadcast channel cut in—a woman’s voice, repeating a short message. It explained that after radiation exposure, some people’s brains had been damaged, losing their autonomy and becoming “devourers.” Gu Cheng already knew this, so he wasn’t surprised at all.

The broadcast made it very clear: devourers could no longer be considered human.

Bang! A gunshot rang out—Feng Nanyun, the first to fire, killing a devourer that had been provoked by its appetite and had started attacking people.

Then came a volley of gunfire. Amid screams and terror, the entire gymnasium turned into a slaughterhouse. Blood pooled everywhere. Many people crouched, shivering, afraid to move.

Zhao Yanzhi frowned, quietly grabbing Gu Cheng’s hand. Gu Cheng didn’t shake him off. He turned his head to look at Zhao Yanzhi’s pale face and realized, exasperated, that the guy’s cleanliness obsession was probably acting up again.

Such a thick smell of blood, mixed with the stench of urine from those scared enough to wet themselves—the combined odor was almost nauseating.

Zhao Yanzhi stood slightly behind him and to the side, gently laying his head on Gu Cheng’s shoulder. Gu Cheng knew he was uncomfortable and didn’t resist the contact. He felt that Zhao Yanzhi’s palm was a bit cold, so he tightened his grip on his hand.

“You okay?” Gu Cheng asked.

“Gu Cheng.”

“Yeah?”

“If you kissed me, I’d be fine.”

Gu Cheng: “…”

Please—look at the current situation. Is this the time for that?