Mobilization order.
Soon, a group of eligible survivors stood in a line. After so searching, so people had weapons in their hands, but most
had things like mop sticks, bricks, and stools, items with relatively weak damage.
When they learned what kind of opponents they would face this ti, so began to cower, crying and shouting to stay in the room. The previous disaster was still vivid in their minds—eleven people died horribly, and even their bodies weren’t recovered. For these people, the Ghoul had beco a taboo.
This led to three people having their legs broken.
The noisy crowd was suppressed.
Chen Feng’s previous words resurfaced in their minds, defying orders would lead to severe punishnt. In such a harsh environnt, having broken legs is very painful.
To recover, they must find a healer, but the chances are slim. Lacking combat abilities, without professional protection, wilderness-activated healers mostly beco monster fodder.
Broken legs.
Signifying the end of their lives.
The remaining people were trembling, even though their faces were white with fear, they didn’t shout as loudly as before.
Running away on the battlefield is a taboo; facing an enemy, turning around would an the end of the fight.
Intimidation.
Although violence couldn’t make this group brave, it taught them to obey orders.
"Creak."
The fallout shelter’s door opened. This ti, they were very obedient, even though they gritted their teeth, they stepped out.
Chen Feng did not reprimand them.
Adapting to the environnt takes ti.
Soon, the group embarked on their journey.
As they departed, Chen Feng made a gesture, a fissure opened, and a bloated figure appeared in the passageway of the shelter.
The loss of all males ant the shelter had no defense. As the owner, Chen Feng had the duty to protect his property.
An Inferior Demon was placed at the entrance of the shelter, because it was narrow and relatively dark inside. From the outside, it looked like a little girl lying on the ground, occasionally showing a "sweet" smile.
Silver Inferior Demon.
Apart from so powerful beings, ordinary monsters could hardly harm the Inferior Demon.
Defense MAX.
Muddy skin, almost immune to physical attacks, was a very strong characteristic.
...............
Factory.
A sturdy figure sat to the side, surrounded by food.
Wang Yong.
He was a famous underground emperor of J City, nicknad God of Wealth, with top-notch ans. Even though he had done many sordid things, under the escort of money, he still lived freely until now.
As the apocalypse approached, he gained the power to control insects. With a few fierce bugs, he occupied this factory. After so ti managing, he recruited three professionals. anwhile, he began expanding forces, searching for survivors nearby. In just over twenty days, the number grew from over three hundred to over six hundred.
Ambition sprouted.
Before the apocalypse, the country’s power pressed overhead. No matter Wang Yong’s strong background, he could only keep a low profile. Now, with laws collapsed and monsters rampant, his dark side completely erupted.
Over six hundred people.
This feeling of controlling others’ lives and deaths intoxicated Wang Yong, and as ti passed it intensified, no longer satisfying his ambition. He tried to continue expanding around.
Lost.
Which man doesn’t have a hero’s dream? Previously suppressed by reality, the world’s huge change now makes what seed impractical dreams possible.
This is not an isolated case.
After gaining strength, so ambitious people began forming factions, sects, and battle groups, common organizations. More absurdly, so professionals tried restoring imperial rule, naming their factions as nations.
It can only be said these people completely indulge in their utopias, dreaming unrealistic dreams.
However, Wang Yong indeed had so skills, ans, and sches. Although he did many atrocious things recently, under the bugs’ protection and with three professionals assisting, ordinary people dared not voice dissent, living completely in his shadow.
"Rat, is there still no news from the fallout shelter?" Sitting on the chair resting, Wang Yong spoke.
An unkempt middle-aged man stepped out, wearing torn clothes with ssy hair. His mouth was full of yellow stains.
Before the apocalypse, he was a loitering troublemaker, imprisoned for nineteen years for misconduct. With no wife or children, his family severed ties with him long ago, a complete social scum. But such a person, unexpectedly, beca a professional in the apocalypse, able to freely traverse underground, earning the nickna Rat.
In the shelter affair, he negotiated with Wei Xun and Yuan Wen.
"Boss, Wei Xun promised a reply in a week, but no news still. Could he be deceiving us?" Rat leaned, speaking nonchalantly, digging his nose indifferently, completely like a scoundrel.
Rat’s deanor was truly poor.
If not for him also being a professional, Wang Yong wouldn’t consider him worthy even of carrying his shoes. Wang Yong frowned, disinterested in idle talk: "Since Wei Xun agreed with us, he must be determined. Take people to the shelter, if he hasn’t acted yet, tear down pretense and take it with him!"
"Boss, why not just let Wolf Head go with and take the shelter by force? Why bother!" Rat exclaid, evidently wanting to resolve through violence.
"What do you know? I told you to negotiate, just do it properly. Didn’t you always want to be a team leader? Accomplish this and you’re one of the three squad captains!" Wang Yong waved, straightforwardly.
"Boss, you’re not deceiving ? Alright, I’m going right away!" Rat rubbed his hands, grinning. Afraid Wang Yong might change his mind, he hurriedly called his n, opened the door, and left.
Watching Rat’s back, Wang Yong showed a trace of disgust, knowing people like Rat were total trash, lazy and sloppy. In peaceti, he would never even glance at him.
But fate was blind, granting such a person the profession.
Wang Yong was cunning, smart—otherwise, he wouldn’t be one of J City’s top gangsters. After a period of observation, he knew the future belonged to professionals, not money, national power, or beauty. To thrive in this wasteland, the number of professionals mattered most.
In just half a month, he expanded recklessly in the apocalypse, relying on those few professionals and his controlled fierce bugs.
For Wang Yong, the hundred or so people in the shelter were just laborers. What truly mattered was Wei Xun.
Once Wei Xun was subdued, Wang Yong would have four professionals—like a rolling snowball, enabling him to conquer any city corner.
"Hope everything goes smoothly..."
Eyeing the closed door, Wang Yong leaned on the chair, muttering to himself.
Of course, he didn’t worry about Rat failing. Wei Xun intent on allegiance, with two professionals teaming up, the shelter was assuredly captured.
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