Chapter 32: Pitiful Little Thing
“Come here, quickly—let me take a good look at you.”
The voice was soft, almost melodic, dripping with a kind of warmth that could melt through reason itself. Yet beneath that gentleness lurked something else—an invisible charm, a pull that could drag a man into the abyss.
Chen Ning’s steps moved on their own, his boots crunching through the leaves. His pupils began to lose focus, the surrounding forest dissolving into a haze of shadows. Only the figure behind the tree remained—“Jian Qing”—her smile alluring, like the most dangerous rose blooming in moonlight.
“Good boy,” that voice cooed, low and husky, every word curling like smoke. “Just a little closer, and big sis will show you something nice.”
If anyone else had been there, they would have screamed.
Because behind that tree—there was no beautiful woman.
Only a severed, floating head, the face of an old man rotting with purple-black flesh, his lips peeling back to reveal an obscene grin.
Step by step, Chen Ning drew near. Only one meter remained.
The head hung in the air, its bloodshot eyes locked greedily onto the artery pulsing in Chen Ning’s neck. It could smell the warmth of living blood. Hunger twisted across its expression.
“Yes… that’s it… perfect…”
Its grin split wider, reaching the ears. Two jagged fangs glinted coldly as it lunged forward—
“Bang!”
A sudden, brutal strike from a rifle butt smashed across its face! The head flew sideways, slamming into a tree with a sickening thud, showering the ground in bark and gore.
“OWWW—You little bastard! That hurts!”
The disembodied head screamed.
Chen Ning’s face was cold. He swung the rifle up again, finger tightening on the trigger—
“Tatatatat!”
The bullets all struck the zombie’s head, yet failed to blow it apart. The head was merely sent reeling, yelping in pained protest, “You Little bastard! Stop shooting, damn it! Wait, I mean, Mercy, Young Hero! Mercy!”
Chen Ning was surprised that his assault rifle had failed to blow the terrifying zombie head apart. He closed the distance in a few quick strides, stomped his left foot down to pin the head firmly to the ground, and drew the Thunder pistol from his hip.
The Thunder pistol was the standard-issue, high-power sidearm of the Empire, widely considered—along with Western models like the Desert Eagle—to be one of the most powerful handguns in the world.
And now, Chen Ning intended to use it to take a point-blank shot at the zombie head beneath his boot.
He bent down, pressing the pistol barrel against the zombie head, and said coldly,
“You disgusting thing. You actually dared to impersonate our Instructor Jian Qing to deceive me. Hah, what kind of person is our Instructor Jian Qing? How could she ever act in such a flirtatious manner? I knew you were a fake from the very first glance. Now, pay the price for defiling the goddess of my heart!”
With that, Chen Ning prepared to fire the pistol at the grotesque zombie head, intending to obliterate it with the weapon’s immense power.
The severed head launched into a theatrical sob, pleading desperately. “Spare me! I have an aged mother of eighty years at home, and below, a mere three-year-old child who cries for milk…”
A look of profound bemusement crossed Chen Ning’s face. This severed head was strange enough, but now its antics have set a new low for the zombie kind. This creature acts just like a common human ruffian. If there is such a thing as a disgrace among the undead, this one certainly fits the bill!
“Cut the crap! Do you really think you’re human? Look at yourself! ‘A three-year-old child waiting to be fed’? Are you begging for mercy or insulting my intelligence?”
Even as he said this, Chen Ning’s finger, which had been about to pull the trigger, paused.
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Su Luo crouched behind a log, idly chewing on a blade of grass.
Tatatatat!
Suddenly—gunfire erupted through the night! The sharp, rapid rhythm made her jolt upright.
The sudden gunshot made Su Luo snap to attention. Chen Ning had managed all his encounters tonight—whether with Level 1 Walkers or Level 2 Stiffs—without firing a single shot.
If he was using his gun now, it meant he had likely encountered a formidable enemy.
Su Luo turned immediately, ready to head toward the source of the gunshot and rush to his aid.
But the moment she turned, she saw a shadow lunging toward her.
A Charger!
The thought flashed through Su Luo’s mind, and the benefits of the brutal training at the Camp immediately showed.
Facing the charging Level 3 Charger zombie, she raised her assault rifle in both hands to block its grasping claws. Then, she delivered a vicious kick with her left foot to the zombie’s chest.
As a soldier of the elite group, Su Luo could kick through a tree trunk ten centimeters in diameter. Her powerful blow sent the zombie flying backward.
The instant the zombie was thrown off, Su Luo dropped to one knee, leveled her rifle, and fired a crisp three-round burst at the airborne foe.
“Tat!Tat!Tat!”
All three bullets struck the zombie’s body, sending it tumbling across the ground twice. Unfortunately, without hitting the head or heart, the damage wasn’t fatal.
The Charger, though wounded, instantly scrambled behind a nearby tree after the shots. Then, it began darting swiftly from tree to tree. The key difference between a Charger and a Level 2 Stiff was its remarkable speed.
It soon vanished from sight, but Su Luo knew it hadn’t left. Zombies never pass up a chance to feed on humans. It was hiding somewhere, waiting to launch a fatal ambush.
Rifle held ready, Su Luo stood perfectly still, eyes scanning intently in every direction, her entire being focused on defense.
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Back on the other side of the forest, Chen Ning still had his boot pressed on the zombie head. He was just about to finish it off when—
“Tat!Tat!Tat!”
Gunfire — in Su Luo’s direction!
Chen Ning’s heart lurched. Not good. If she was firing that much, she was in danger.
He turned his head instinctively to look—
And in that instant, the thing under his boot smiled.
A bloodthirsty, triumphant grin split its face as it exploded upward!
“BOOM!”
The head shot into the air like a cannonball and clamped its jaws around Chen Ning’s chest.
“AHHH—!”
The zombie head wore a triumphant, malevolent grin as it swallowed its first mouthful of flesh, ready to drain Chen Ning dry.
However, the moment it bit Chen Ning, the once-dormant zombie virus within his body surged to life.
Chen Ning’s eyes suddenly erupted with a savage, bloodthirsty crimson light. The red glow radiating from them was so intense it seemed to drown the entire forest before him.
The old man’s head wore a look of horror. “God in Heaven, he’s actually a Demigod… Ah! Spare me, let me go! Aah—!“
It tried to pull away. But it was too late.
At that moment, an unnatural transformation began between the zombie head clamped onto Chen Ning’s chest and Chen Ning’s own body.
The zombie virus from the bite had violently activated the dormant virus within Chen Ning. Countless viral particles acted like countless tiny sprites. The “sprites” inside Chen Ning’s body, upon detecting the new host of “sprites” from the zombie head, rejoiced and extended a welcoming invitation…
Birds of a feather flock together. Heeding the call, the zombie head’s virus surged uncontrollably into Chen Ning’s body…
Amidst Chen Ning’s pained grunts and the Bloody Tyrant’s despairing screams, Chen Ning’s body acted like quicksand, grotesquely swallowing the entire zombie head until they were completely fused into one.
And then—silence.
The moment the fusion ended, the pain vanished completely. The zombie head had seamlessly merged into his body. Alarmed and anxious, Chen Ning tore open his shirt to examine his chest. The bite wound was gone without a trace, showing no outward signs of injury.
Had his body really absorbed the zombie head?
Chen Ning couldn’t detect any immediate physical changes. What he failed to notice, however, was the scene within his mental spiritual lake: on the left, the black martial vein still swirled with dark energy; on the right, the white martial meridian still shimmered with silver light. But now, hovering above the lake, was a severed head—that of the Crimson Tyrant.
The Crimson Tyrant’s head hung in the air above Chen Ning’s spiritual lake, its mouth set in a distinctly pitiful pout.
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