Chapter 33: The Tyrant’s Proposal
Chen Ning was utterly stunned. That freakish zombie head had definitely bitten him, but his body had mutated anomalously—it devoured the thing outright, merging it completely with his own flesh and even healing the wound in the process.
If not for the traces of battle still scattered around him, he might have thought the whole thing had been a hallucination.
He didn’t know what side effects might come from merging with that eerie head—whether it would harm him, mutate him, or worse—but there was no time to think about it now. Gunfire had just erupted from Su Luo’s direction. His chest tightened with worry. Was she in danger?
Gripping his assault rifle, Chen Ning sprinted toward the sound.
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Just then, Su Luo was ambushed for the second time by the Charger zombie. Likely because this zombie had been an imperial soldier in life, possessing excellent physical conditioning, its infection and death directly resulted in it becoming a Level Three Charger. Moreover, its former training meant it instinctively knew to employ tactics like flanking and ambushing in its attacks.
It circled silently behind Su Luo’s right flank and burst out from the grass like a pouncing leopard.
By the time Su Luo heard the rustle and turned, the zombie was already upon her. There was no time to aim. She raised her rifle horizontally, blocking the incoming claws.
The impact sent her staggering back. The creature’s momentum bowled her over—its weight slamming her onto the ground.
Grappling at close quarters with a zombie was a recipe for disaster. In a grapple, any injury—be it a bite or a mere scratch—could lead to infection and a swift death.
During Jiang Qing’s combat lessons, her first and most critical rule was to avoid getting entangled in a wrestle with the undead. “Even if you kill the zombie,” she’d warn, “you’d be as good as dead yourself.”
So, when Su Luo was pinned to the ground by the creature and saw its jaws snapping rapidly toward her, a single thought flashed through her mind: This is the end.
But then, a figure dashed into view—it was Chen Ning, gripping the Tang sword ‘Dragon Fang’. With a lightning-fast slash, the incredibly sharp standard-issue officer’s blade cleanly severed the Level 3 zombie’s head from its shoulders. The head hit the ground with a dull thud and rolled away. This Charger lacked the tenacious vitality of a level eleven Zombie like Crimson Tyrant; it couldn’t survive without its body and died instantly.
Having narrowly escaped death, Su Luo quickly kicked the zombie corpse off of her and scrambled to her feet, looking utterly disheveled.
Chen Ning stepped closer. “You alright?”
She quickly patted herself down, then exhaled in relief. “Heavens have mercy. No injuries.”
Chen Ning crouched, pried open the zombie’s skull, and extracted its brain core—a small, glimmering crystal pulsing faintly with energy.
By now, Su Luo had steadied her breath. But as her eyes swept over him, she noticed the torn fabric on his chest—and remembered hearing gunfire from his direction earlier.
She immediately grew tense and asked, “Chen Ning, you just made contact with a zombie too. Are you hurt?”
He froze for a heartbeat. There was no way he could tell her the truth—that he’d been bitten and somehow absorbed the zombie’s head.
So he shook his head, voice calm. “I ran into one earlier. A strong one—probably a Level Four Predator. I fired several rounds but couldn’t finish it. It was… intelligent. Escaped.”
Su Luo frowned. “Level four zombies? Damn it. Bai Yuhao’s idea to split up was reckless after all.”
Chen Ning nodded slightly, though his mind was elsewhere. That strange fusion still pulsed inside his body, and he had no idea what it meant. The last thing he wanted was another fight.
“I agree,” he said. “We should regroup with the others. This place isn’t safe.”
Su Luo nodded. The two turned back the way they came.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out from over a hundred meters away. A bullet whistled through the air, piercing Chen Ning’s body in an instant and sending him sprawling to the ground.
“Chen Ning!”
Shocked and enraged, Su Luo raised her assault rifle with one hand and returned fire toward the distant source of the shot. While firing, she used her other hand to drag the wounded Chen Ning, moving them both toward cover behind a nearby large tree.
The one firing the shot hiding in the shadows was also using the trees for cover, trading shots with Su Luo. This confirmed that the attacker couldn’t be an Imperial soldier, as a firefight between soldiers would be unthinkable.
The most likely explanation was that they had encountered Wasteland Bandits—armed marauders who specialized in robbery. These bandits sometimes hunted zombies for bounties at the Hunter’s Guild, but they also preyed on civilians, merchant caravans, and even dared to attack Imperial soldiers.
Chen Ning slumped against the tree, blood seeping down his chest. He looked at the hole in his uniform, pale-faced but lucid.
It turned out the bullet had immense penetrating power; even at a range of one hundred meters, it had passed clean through his body.
“Stinger assault rifle…” he gasped. “They use that kind of gun for armor-piercing. Strong penetration. Designed to punch through zombie skulls.”
Su Luo had just emptied her magazine and was in the process of reloading when she heard Chen Ning’s words. She paused, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Before he could answer, a shadow blurred behind her.
“Su Luo—behind you!” Chen Ning shouted.
Su Luo also noticed the ambusher. She hadn’t expected there to be more than one enemy, so she immediately discarded her gun and, with the fastest possible speed, drew the dagger from her waist. Without hesitation, she swung it backward in a reverse grip, slashing toward the ambusher behind her.
Su Luo was a Level Three War Soldier, which was already quite impressive.
However, this ambusher was clearly even more skilled. Facing Su Luo’s lightning-fast strike, he calmly tilted his head to evade it. At the same time, his left hand executed a standard military grappling move, swiftly locking onto Su Luo’s wrist, while his right hand transformed into a palm and struck her neck, landing a sharp blow on the neck.
Su Luo’s vision went black. She collapsed without a sound.
Chen Ning’s pupils contracted sharply. He recognized the attacker.
A man in a black Azurebird uniform stepped from the shadows, smirking coldly—Xiao Zihao.
Xiao Zihao knocked Su Luo unconscious. Meanwhile, up ahead, Da Yan and Niu Er emerged with assault rifles in hand. It turned out they were the ones who sniped them earlier—wounding Chen Ning and exchanging fire with Su Luo.
Seeing the three of them, Chen Ning instantly understood: Xiao Zihao’s group had crossed paths with him and Su Luo and had immediately, without hesitation, launched a sneak attack.
Chen Ning and Xiao Zihao had a history of bad blood, but Chen Ning never expected Xiao Zihao to cold-bloodedly open fire on his own comrades, and even target the innocent Su Luo.
Wounded, his back propped against a tree, Chen Ning gritted his teeth against the pain and reached for the pistol at his waist.
Da Yan and Niu Er swung their rifles up, aiming straight at him.
Xiao Zihao, holding the unconscious Su Luo, pressed her own knife to her neck. His grin widened.
“Disarm yourself,” he said lazily, “or she dies first.”
Chen Ning glared at Xiao Zihao. “You’ve got a grudge with me. If you target me, I have nothing to say. But she is innocent. There’s no need for you to harm her.”
Xiao Zihao lowered his head, sniffed Su Luo’s hair, and grinned coldly. “Don’t worry, I won’t harm her. She’s the beauty of our squad. My two men and I will take good care of her tonight. Hahaha!”
Chen Ning’s hand pressed on his gun grip, and he said furiously, “You beast.”
Chen Ning desperately wanted to draw his gun, fight them, and save Su Luo. But he calculated the time needed to draw, release the safety, and pull the trigger—let alone fire accurately enough to kill all three. In his severely wounded state, it was an impossible task. If he even reached for his weapon, Da Yan and Niu Er would surely gun him down first.
Xiao Zihao pressed the dagger against Su Luo’s throat. “I’ll count to three. Drop your gun, or I’ll slit her throat. We don’t mind having our fun after she’s dead…”
Chen Ning’s eyes burned. His voice was low, cold as steel.
“You’d better kill me tonight, Xiao Zihao. Because if you don’t… I will make you beg for death.”
He dropped the gun.
Da Yan and Niu Er immediately rushed forward, tying him to the tree trunk with coarse rope.
Xiao Zihao, holding Su Luo in his arms, looked smugly at Chen Ning, who was tied to a tree trunk and bleeding continuously from his wound.
He sneered and said, “Heh, you’re the one who’s going to die a gruesome death. Do you know why I’m not killing you? Because I’m leaving you tied up here. The scent of your blood is spreading through the air. Soon, zombies will catch the scent and follow it here. When they come, you, tied to this tree, will be their delicious meal. Hahaha!”
Da Yan and Niu Er exchanged glances, then leered at Su Luo.
“Young Master Xiao,” Niu Er said, grinning. “You promised us, remember? After you’re done, we get a turn. It’s been a long time since we had a woman.”
Chen Ning’s eyes went bloodshot with fury, veins standing out on his temples. He struggled against the rope—but it was useless.
And then— A voice echoed in his mind.
Old. Sinister. Amused.
“Hey, little Demigod kid, it seems your strength isn’t all that great. How about we cooperate? You agree to one thing for me, and I’ll lend you my power to deal with these pieces of scum?”
Chen Ning was stunned.
Who was speaking to him?
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